We are officially closing out the second full week of summer since school let out and my house has become over-ridden with the disease known as slime. I had the grand idea to do a summer checklist for the girls that required them to take care of their personal hygiene (the nerve of me!) along with spending time on other activities before they used their electronics. One of the activities for them to choose from was to “make something.” Idiotic me wasn’t specific, so literally every day since school let out, Scarlett has made slime.
Welcome to my own source of personal therapy.
This blog is an outlet for the inner workings of my mind, but is also a story of how you can make anything out of your life regardless of your upbringing or circumstances. You have to persevere and want more.
I made this life I have today, with a loving and ridiculous family who makes every trip around the sun an interesting one. With each step taking me closer to the type of success I dream about. I shouldn’t have what I have, but I do because I wasn’t willing to take less.
My blog is to share some of how I got here and how I keep going places. It’s a place to share struggles and realness. A place to share the absurdity that is being a mom.
Sometimes I overshare in my posts. I curse and give gory details about vaginas and grossness that comes with men and raising kids. But I also talk about spirituality, dealing with your babies not being babies anymore.
In here, I talk about what real life really is.
I’m not writing this blog, Raising the Curtins, to be popular or make boatloads of cash. That would be wonderful, but this blog has other purposes. To give me therapy so I stay somewhat sane, to leave a digital legacy for my children, and to share what’s real in life so others feel a connection through real life, not filters.
Kristina
Mom
Vince
#girldad
Gianna
The Best Accident
Scarlett
Tester of Limits
Evangeline
Boss Baby
Marina
Last Nugget
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I dread Scarlett’s outfit selection process more than I dread going to the gyno for my annual pap smear. Sure, the room is always freezing, I’m naked save only for a paper dress, and some stranger is shoving a cotton swab up my vagina. But at least the stress level is low, and I have an excuse to lay down during the day.
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Chaperoning sucks. Especially for me. I never wanted kids and don’t really like them. It’s just who I am. So with that in mind, why on earth would I volunteer to willingly be around other people’s kids?
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Growing up, I didn’t want to be a mom and I definitely didn’t want kids…ever. I think deep down it’s a combination of a few things.
First, because I didn’t have a solid mom figure. I didn’t have a good grasp of what a mom really was. It’s not totally my mom’s fault. She had a mental disorder that prevented her from really being a decent parent to me. Bipolar disorder is no joke. Especially if its not controlled and if you are a daughter to a mother with bipolar disorder.
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The infamous they. Who are they? How did they become so all-knowing? Why am I listening to them and giving them all the credit for things said? I picture a panel of people in white coats…like The View or The Doctors. And Oprah. Oprah definitely would be a “they-sayer.”
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This was the first time we ever actually went to get professional family photos – unless you count our wedding…because the kids were there. If any of you reading this are disturbed that we had kids before marriage, I urge you not to read further or read any other posts on my blog. I will likely offend you.
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If you love sarcasm, unfiltered motherhood stories, and the occasional chaos of my life (think: a mind that never stops over-analyzing everything. single. thing., parenting 4 daughters whose age ranges are ridiculous, and being married to an asshole)…you’re in luck.
Whether you're in the carline, folding laundry, or taking an extra long time on the toilet, throw on my audio files and pretend we're having a large glass of wine together and getting real. Because sometimes, you just need a voice in your ear telling you all the crazy shit about a middle aged woman and her family.
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