Long live indoors!

Give me a computer and some blackout curtains and you’ll see a happy woman! It’s really my element. Something tells me that my girls, at this point of their lives haven’t quite gotten this quite figured out yet. I feel like they can’t tell right from wrong just yet so, I’m very disappointed to say that, yes, they love the playground! They love playing in the sand with all the bugs and ants and … well, did I mention sand?

Wanna spot me at the playground? That’s easy! I’m the mom who is actually IN the slide with her kid while the other moms are God-knows-where and their big kids are stealing the toys from my 1 year old daughters!

There was this one little girl in particular, I’m not sure if she’s from our building or where the heck she came from, but she playing “monster” and going “help me, baby, help me!” but it wasn’t a normal/happy screaming, that was DESPERATE screaming! My babies were seriously afraid of her as she pushed them around and took all their toys. And I’m like “honey, where’s your mommy?”… turned out, her big sister (who was probably 12 or so) was the one watching after her. Her mom was probably taking a long, long, long, long bath and recovering from watching a seriously hyper kid all day! God, I hope my girls are not that hyper!

I know, the playground makes me completely paranoid. There were so many bees around  ! I didn’t know bees could be so big!

Indoors are fun! We have computers and TV and Jared Leto on netflix! They’ll come around eventually, I’m sure!

So, humans of the world, do not be fooled by the pictures! This wasn’t fun at all… well, not for mommy!

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Take care!

Unemployment

There is a good side to being unemployed. Actually, there’s a shiny golden, filled with stars and unicorns side to it if you have a baby – or two – . If the kids go to sleep at 1am you are not desperate! You can actually use your “what-the-heck-I’ll-just-sleep-in-tomorrow card”.

Part of me is really scared of going back to work and leave the girls, though…but the remaining parts all really want to order stuff from Pottery Barn. That’s pretty much how shallow people can actually be in this world… or I could just make up a speech about paying for their colleges and being able to buy a house for us… it would be noble, but I assure you deep down inside I would still be pretty moved by Pottery Barn.

I try very hard not to be addicted to shopping or food like my mom is, but I still feel like I am. Specially because my husband can go weeks without shopping and hours without eating… which just makes me a bigger shopper (??? is that a thing??? ) and, well, pretty fat.

So, I’m sending out resumes, in case you’re hiring (ha-ha) and hoping the girls start talking soon ’cause this whole guessing why they are crying thing is making me quite a bit insane. They are pretty good at communicating and understand everything we say, but, since they have their own language and have deep, long, conversations with one another, they don’t really feel the need to speak OUR language and that’s just hard for me! But, oh well… it’s not as hard as it used to be, for as little as I remember it.

Thing is – I’m so off-topic right now- I hear that women produce (produce?) some sort of hormone when they go through labour that makes her forget about the pain, so she’ll want to do it again. And that’s a real thing.

On my case, I have forgotten about the first months with the girls, in which I couldn’t really take a shower or go to the bathroom, not to mention leave the house, because they were always crying. Always! For 5 months, they were either sleeping or crying. But those memories are really just a blur.

I actually do remember the first 5 days with the girls and then it’s blur, blur, blur, 11 months! Which makes me believe that it’s when I started relaxing.

The weird, crazy, send-me-to-a-mental-hospital-right-now part of the story is that I’d do it again. I hated being pregnant, I hated going through labour (even though I had a c-section) but I’d do it again. And if I ever do get a job in this country (look at me, rescuing the original topic) and actually get pregnant again some day I just hope I don’t have quadruplets. I can totally handle 3 babies. – she said, as she watched her twins sleep and look completely possible to handle.

This Canadian air is making me lose it a bit, eh?

Good night, moms (and Gab) I’m off to watch something with Jared Leto on it (who by the way should multiply hanson-style as a favor to humanity, in my humble opinion).

Bye, now!

I’m not a nice person, really.

There’s a considerable amount of people who hate me.

I don’t really care about the ones I hate right back, like the woman who used to live in the apartment bellow mine back in Brazil and my crazy aunt… but to find out that some really good friends I love deeply or people I admire hate me just breaks my heart.

Most people who hate me -and I care- hate me because of something I said… or the way I said it. For instance, there’s this beloved friend of mine, who I secretly spy on facebook from time to time, just to make sure he’s ok . Well, his dad killed himself and one day I managed to tell him “Please, don’t kill yourself.” Yeah, I said that. I actually SAID THAT. And that was it. Goodbye 15 years of friendship… goodbye all late night conversations and telling each other everything. The memories hurt and there’s no way back.

He’s not the only one, don’t be fooled. Too many people hate me. Which probably means I’m not a really good person.

A couple years ago, people would actually describe me as “sweet”. Either they didn’t know me very well or I ran out of sweetness.

I could always blame a guy or 5 for making me a much bitter person than I used to be when I was 14 and sweet, and bitter people take it our on the universe, as we all know.

But I’m not bitter anymore, my family is a freaking butter commercial I’m just not that girl dressing in black and crying herself to sleep anymore… I’m pretty sure I’ve invented emo. Is that still going on, by the way?

So, why do I keep getting people to hate me? I’m just a weirdo I guess. I have always been, really. Even back in high school… there were like 500 kids in my school who fit an specific pattern of normal and then there was me… the weird kid. I did manage to be friends with everyone but I was just plain weird.

When I got in Architecture school it was kinda nice -my formal roommate hates me by the way- because we were all a group of weird people. And after that, during engineering school I was trying my best to fake-normal but it was just an act.

Lucky for me, my husband was there. The weirdest weird kid ever. Reading psychology books during advanced algebra classes. He liked me for the weird and I was finally able to stop pretending.

People still hate me, though. I still talk to much. I still sound creepy and try too hard to please “the cool kids” even though Ashton Kutcher will absolutely never tweet me back and neither will Taylor Hanson’s wife, who probably hates me, even though she has no idea who I am, ’cause my comments on her blog are stupid and off topic. See? People just hate me.

I just wish I could change, but I can’t. I’ll always be me and more and more people will hate me. I might have to delete my facebook account at some point because having like 5 friends will be absolutely embarrassing.

I might be a really disappointing , cold, absent friend , worst secret keeper ever (for the love of GOD do not tell me a secret. I’m not curious and I just don’t wanna know for I WILL tell it to my mother. I just will.) and I sound creepy from time to time.

Damn… I hope my babies never hate me

  I’m sorry guys… I really am.

The life I’ve always wanted

I have this picture in my head.. it’s me, making breakfast and watching the news -inEnglish-, as the kids get ready to school. It’s not a crazy dream, it’s just my dull dream. -not dull at all to me, may I say-

The hard part it pretty much done, I mean, at one point I thought I’d never had kids at all -pretty much around the time I was 27 and had never had a boyfriend, I’d say- but I still need to organize my life a little bit more so I can just sit down and enjoy being home.

Will that ever happen, though? Is it human nature to be always unsatisfied and looking for more? Would I need a butler if I had a made? See what I mean?

I’m very nervous right now, at a new country with no house of my own and no job (or  perspective) and no one but my husband around. I’m exhausted and also so amazed to be here… don’t get me wrong.

My parents and my best friend are coming for Christmas… and I’m a big fan of Christmas (i’m a BIG FAN of Christmas) and I hope I’ve got a few more things figured out by then.

Fine, I’ll say it: I miss having my mom and my dad and my grandmother AND the nanny helping with the girls! I miss going to the bathroom without hearing a baby screaming on the other side of the door! I’m tired. I’m so tired all the time. My feet at huge from never sitting doWn anymore and my hungry and moody. 

I’m a terrible, terrible, terrible mother who doesnt have any energy, and I cant drive or cook! I admire so much you guys who can do it on your own and the women with a bunch of kids who still manage to brush their hair every day! I’ve stopped brushing my hair, wearing make up and match my clothes the minute I got to Canada! Seriously. Unfortunately.

It’s just a phase, I know, but, meanwhile… could someone PLEASE come visit us?

Thank you.

Welcome to Canada

Everything is so tangible right now. I feel, for the first time, that instead of admiring a place through movies and TV and wondering about stuff that was so far away I can just live them.

It’s shallow. Absolutely. The fact that I can actually order something online from, say, Ikea. But I have been dreaming about this for a while.

It’s not just a safety issue, it’s not about my kids having a better education and a better chance in life. It’s the small things… I’m in love with the small things here.

My father-in-law just sent me a message saying “you’re now in the middle of the north american civilization”. That is HUGE. That’s just plain huge and I feel like a lot of people around here (the young people, probably) take it for granted. I hope my kids realize what a beautiful country this is and how hard it was for us to get here. I hope they appreciate the fact that they can walk on the street without being mugged. There are trees and squirrels around. I’m never getting over how beautiful this place is… EVER!

We are just at McDonald’s and the cashier asked us “You’ve chosen to live HERE? Of all places? Argh…” I felt like giving her a small lecture about the world she lives in, but I was just too hungry to waste my time.

Yes, here!

We ended up not going to Toronto after all and choosing a much smaller town. I like being close to the city but not actually in it ’cause we can just walk from one place to another and rent prices or a lot lower.

So, we chose Brockville. And it’s just starting to feel like home. We bought a few pieces of furniture, got the internet on and got the toys laying around.

We did have to run to the emergency room twice with the girls on our first couple of days here, but that’s just a memory I wouldn’t like to register…

Everything’s good now. I can’t wait for Christmas…