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.
We had a repair tech at the house today to check out our garage fridge. It’s a piece of shit LG so of course the compressor is bad already. While the tech was in the garage, Vince came out to move the extra minivan seat out of the tech’s way and put it back into the van.
Ohhhhh mylanta.
A few months ago, I decided to replace our wifi password frame with something more substantial. The frame sits right on our entryway table. I’d walk pass it daily, glance at the password, and think “why do I have this here? We rarely have guests. And if we do, it’s like 1-2 people max. They can just ask us this information. This is such a waste.”
This frame is in a prime location of our home. I should put something more important in it. Something I want my family to look at every day.
Until 9:14pm last night, I thought I was pretty cool under pressure. At 9:15pm, I realized I was wrong. Because at 9:15pm, I thought my 13-year-old daughter had been abducted from soccer practice.
Up until that point, I assumed I would do all the right things in this situation. I’d take the right actions. Make the right choices. But, as I watched her little circle on Life360 leave the soccer field, knowing that she was not in our car, but in someone else’s, I panicked.
In the days leading up to the first day of school, Scarlett had made plans to go tanning to get the perfect back to school glow. She monitored the UV levels each day and planned out when it was “worth it” to lay out. Because….according to her, tanning is hard work.
Yes. You heard that right. She thinks tanning is hard work. [in my best grandma voice] “Kids today know nothing about hard work. In my day….blah blah blah.”
Vince and I had a date last night to go see Deadpool & Wolverine. It started off as a normal evening out until about 45 minutes into the movie I get a call from Gianna‘s boyfriend. They were both at the house watching the baby and Evie for us.
Looking down at the phone, I thought it was weird that he was calling me. They were making themselves dinner though, so I thought maybe it was a cooking question. I got up from my seat and made my way to the exit so I could take the call.
Walked into Scarlett’s room the other night to say goodnight. She has her covers wrapped over her head and is on the phone video chatting with two friends as they all watch the Dalmer Tapes on Netflix.
My jaw drops.
Me: What the hell are you watching??
Scarlett: The Dalmer Tapes. It’s ok, I’m watching it with my friends. See? Say hi to [she names her friends as she shows me her phone screen].
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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