We’ll see each other again soon

My husband and I went for our last ride around the town where I grew up and we first met today… and my first friend came to visit.

Old friends are special ’cause they make you feel at home. We share old stories, we know we’ve laughed and cried together. We know everything basically, we’ve always been there.

We lose touch from time to time, that’s for sure… but you know you have a special place in their hearts when you see them stop breathing for a couple seconds after they ask you “How long are you going to be away for?” and you answer  “Forever”.

I’m glad she came here today to say goodbye. It was so special. I do not wish I could take all my friends with me, ’cause we all have our lives, and even if they were all close, things would never be the same as they where back in 1987 playing under my grandmother’s bed. I just wish I could freeze time in some special moments and go back then every once in a while… just for a couple hours…

That’s what photo albums are for I guess… and we’ve certainly made one for the album today…


Stop it, mom! I’m 33!

Do you ever feel like disappearing? Not vanishing from the world, no. Disappearing from your parent’s cell phone range, I mean. Even though you’re an adult. Am I the only one?

I know I’m pretty close to my parents and part of that is due to the fact that we still live with them (6 days to go). But even back during architecture school when I actually had my own apartment (but almost never spent the night there) I still felt like I owned my parents a overwhelming amount of satisfaction.

I remember this one saturday when I was so tired I wanted to sleep for 40 hours. But I couldn’t! My mom called 27 times (for real) until I got up, got in the bus and went back home. She does that a lot. “Are you gonna sleep all day?” Well, yes. We all deserve to sleep for an entire day every once in a decade. It’s a reward.

She needs to know everything. EVERYTHING. I left a little red paper over the table one day and said to my husband “the first thing my mom is gonna say when she walks into the house is going to be “WHAT’S THAT? THAT’S NEW!”. And I was right. There’s no keeping secrets from her. There’s no keeping nothing from her. She actually found out that I was pregnant before I did. She called me and gave me my own news. That’s messed up.

So, yeah, I am going to miss my dad a lot. But am I a horrible, terrible, mean person for saying I’m glad I’m gonna take a long breath and feel a little lighter for not having to report everything back to my mom after 33 years?

I have tried to run away before, believe me. But it never seemed to work. I wanna open my window to a snow scenery, play with my kids and kiss my husband. I can’t wait until it’s just the 4 of us.

She’s already synchronized our iphones and learned to facetime, of course. – She’s not the technology love, so, this IS a big thing in her world-.

I know she’s going to miss the girls, but I need the quiet.

So, yes. Sometimes I’m happy about leaving and sometimes I’m crying. Maybe I’ve gone bipolar after all… or maybe there just really are pros and cons to it!

We’re tired

Well, I am.

Moving away is exhausting. It feels a little bit like dying, to be honest. I’m not sure I’ve actually written this here before, because I remember thinking that exact thought. You say goodbye to a lot of people, like you do every day… like the woman at the bakery. She has no idea this is the last time she’ll be asking you how the kids are doing… but you know it is.

I went by my high school and I took a picture of the street. I must have walked down that street at least 1000 times before. I went up and down those stairs 1000 times as well… but this time, I knew it was the last time.

It’s weird the things that end up in that one beg you’re able to carry with you and supposedly sum up all your 33 years. Your most comfortable old blue pajamas and the pillow cases that smell like home. I look at my stuffed animals, the ones I’ve had since I was a baby, and I’m thinking “I’m not ready to leave them here”… I’m just… not.

But I am ready to leave. I’ve always been. Ever since I was a teenager translating Hanson or Alanis Morissette songs and trying my best to learn English, so I could leave one day. I’ve been planning this moment, dreaming about this moment for over 20 years. I do not have any doubts. I just wish it was easier on everyone else. And I wish I didn’t feel like leaving this world instead of just leaving this country…

I hope one one hates us -too much- out there. And I hope we can finally find a place to stay… it’s been quite hard. But I owe this to my kids and to myself. I can’t afford to quit my biggest dream…

My very-organized daily routine

I was reading this blog and the first thing that crossed my mind was ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I’m laughing really hard right now slash cryinga little, I guess.

This person actually talks about how her daughter reads or has QUIET TIME in her room while mom folds the clothes or does the dishes or whatever and then… the kid goes to bed at 7:30 and everyone has a little time for themselves!!!

Let me tell you about my quiet and organized rotine:

It’s 2:10am right now and I decided to write a bit and look for pretty stuff on etsy to keep me from losing my mind after running after 2 kids all day who, by the way, went to bed after mid-night and will start crying desperately if I leave the room or make any noise. That’s why I normally don’t pee during the night.

We share a bed. Not because we are overly attached parents, but because we only have the one room. And also because they used to wake up about 14 times a night, so, even if we had another room I’d probably keep them with me. I’m the type of human being who enjoys her sleep.

Our flight was cancelled and I couldn’t confirm that we’ll be on the next plane, because it’s Sunday, so that’s eating me inside because I don’t know if our tickets were cancelled or automatically changed.

We still don’t have a place to stay in Canada.

I have 2 weeks to leave the country and resume 33 years to one beg. I’m leaving everything behind. There’s a ton of dishes on the sink but I don’t have the strength to get up and finish them.

I don’t have a dish washer.

My eyes are burning, I wanna go to bed, but I also wanna do something fun and live a little for myself before the babies are up again and I have to be with them all-the-time, never EVER looking away to keep them from biting each other, climbing the toys, climbing the furniture, jumping out the window, pushing each other down the stairs, putting something dangerous in their mouth, licking something electrified, licking batteries and so on.

Then it’s time to change their diapers & back to chasing babies around the house.

Around noon, I open up some super nutritive pre-made baby food and mix it up with noodles and start chasing them around with a spoon. By the time they finish eating there’s food all over their faces, their clothes, the carpet, the walls… everything. So, we put Frozen on the DVD to keep them staring at something instead of running around the house while eating (that’s some serious bad parenting).

I chase them around for 2 more hours and then it’s nap time. For Agatha. Aurora will stay up for another hour, for sure.

So, I actually check facebook and e-mails and stuff because I only have one baby to watch at this point.

Aurora falls asleep and I have 30 minutes or so to actually clean something super fast pr take a shower.

Agatha wakes up and we start preparing her bath.

Agatha is in her bath with my mom, who god back from work and Aurora wakes up.

Agatha is getting dressed, Aurora is getting undressed. Aurora is taking her bath. Agatha is crazy hungry. Agatha is eating, Aurora is getting dressed. Aurora is eating, Agatha is playing or dancing in front of the TV.

My dad gets home and takes them for a ride while I prepare dinner.

My husband is cleaning the house like a crazy person. They girls have managed to open every drawer and throw everything we own in the middle of the living room.

They’ve probably broken a few things by now, too.

The babies are back. We feed them and play with them until they finally fall asleep between midnight and 1 am.

My husband grabs his video games and I grab my computer.

Things are super calm around here, now that we are both not working… so we actually have time to do all this.

You should’ve seen my sleeping routine back when we were working!

Good night, to all of us, normal moms! My eyes are burning.

Letter to my dad

When I was 13, the school therapist said I couldn’t love my dad as much as I did, because he was going to die one day and I wouldn’t be able to go on without him. She also said I’d never get married or leave my parent’s house because I was oh-so-attached to my dad.

Truth is, my dad has been through a lot. And he’s annoying. He’s getting old and I scream at him all the time, but I’ll miss him.

I won’t so much miss him, as I’ll feel bad imagining him passing by my empty room and remembering me. Perhaps even memories from when I was a baby. I was a little girl in his arms, and I was always there. I was born in this house and I know how much he hates changes. I know about how he found his dad dead in their house. I know about the note his dad left him. I know this sh%# must have messed up with his head.

Most of the stuff he says make absolutely no sense. It’s so crazy I’ve actually thought about writing a book about how he says stuff like “the cancer virus likes to eat tomatoes because they’re softer than human muscles”. And MEANS it.

Sometimes I think he’s crazy, or maybe just plain stupid… but he’s really just naive. The most naive, honest person in the world. I’ve kind of adopted my dad. It has always been my mission to take care of him.

I’ve done everything I could. I’ve given him time. A lot of time to understand that I’d leave one day. And I’m leaving… In 2 weeks. I don’t feel bad about leaving anything here. I won’t miss the house I grew up in, I won’t miss the streets, I won’t miss the memories, I’m not even sure I’ll miss my dad most of the time ’cause I’ll be busy taking care of my girls and thinking about finding a job and worried about something else… but sometimes at night I’ll remember him, and think about him passing by my empty room… and I’ll cry.

I wish there was some other way, dad. But our babies need a better chance at life.

Thank you for saying you’ll be with us for Christmas, even though you’ve never been in an airplane before and I KNOW you’re terrified of the idea.

I hope this doesn’t kill you. I cannot go on without you, depending on my faith on a God I’m not sure I believe to be sure you still exist somewhere. I just can’t. And I hope you can come and join us for good when you retire. If I make enough money, the lawyer says I can come and get you.

I’ll do my best, dad, I promise.

But you have to promise me you won’t cry. I never meant to make you cry.

Your daughter.

We’ve made it.

I was going through some old pictures today. Pictures from when I was pregnant and from when they were really small. Every time I look at those pictures I’m thinking “I wouldn’t wanna go back there”.

It is a magical moment, so they say, but I remember not having enough time even to cry. I was not allowed to break down and I certainly couldn’t rest. I wanted to cry from lack of sleep. Seriously.

I remember sleeping for a whole 20 minutes on the day my girls were born and thinking “Oh, God! I fell asleep! I CAN’T fall asleep”.

I watch movies where you see a sister, a mom or a friend holding a newborn so that the mom can rest from the labour. Well, that never happened to me. Main reason being because only my husband were allowed to enter the hospital and we had two babies and a mom with no milk. Do your math.

I also remember being trapped inside the house. I couldn’t go anywhere. I had to breastfeed a baby every hour. They’d spend 25 minutes in my breast to stimulate the milk, then I’d switch to the bottle, then I’d change the diaper, rest for 10 minutes and pick up the other baby. That was the routine, including in the middle of the night.

Seven days after the girls were born, I actually left the house for a couple minutes. I felt so free! I could walk again and I didn’t look like THIS anymore:


I know.

I remember one day, they were 2 months old precisely and my husband and I had to take the IELTS exam… so, we left the babies with our parents and went out alone for the first time. We felt SO guilty, we finished the test and even though we wanted to take a walk and grab something to eat, we couldn’t do it! We HAD to hurry back to them, even though they consumed every last sign of strength in our bodies.



We couldn’t go anywhere with them really, because any small excitement would cause endless cramps and suffering, so we avoided leaving the house with them because we desperately wanted to sleep for more then one hour straight in the night. I’m not sure if it solved the problem, but the few times we ignored our own rule I WAS HELL. So, we pretty much stuck by our rule and waited for the 100-ish crampy days to go by. Slowly, very slowly.

So, for five months they cried and cried and cried and the only moment they’d stop crying was when they were sleeping. ‘Til one day… they started crying for 3 hours straight instead of 5. Next thing I knew, they were crying for 10 minutes. It was magical!

They actually woke up crying every day until they were about 16 months BUT it was nothing compared to the first 5 months. We wanted to go out, like normal un-encacerated people but we could never take them (harly ever, I mean) and it sucked. It really sucked leaving the house without our babies… our minds were never really there.

I kept imagining what it would be like when they were a bit bigger, when the cramping days would be over, when we could take them to the mall with us and have a good time…

So, one day…


See my point here? Having a newborn beats being pregnant with twins at anytime. Having a 6 months old baby beats having a newborn and having a one year old is a lot less complicated than having a 6 months old baby. I can barely wait to have a baby I can actually talk to and who’ll tell me WHY they’re crying!

Things are always changing. For better!

moving update: 2 and a half weeks to go, people!

I’m such a loner

I was taking a personality test the other day, just ’cause I do get curious sometimes to find out what those algorithms have to say about me and one of the questions was:

“Would you rather be alone or with your friends?”

I immediately thought of answering “with my friends”, but my husband actually screamed from the other side of the room “ALONE!”. I stopped. I clicked over “alone”, after all.

As I sit here, in this empty house, with nothing but the sound of distant cars out there and I know my husband and kids won’t be back for another 2 hours I realize it’s true.

I’ve been alone most of my life and it was awful. But now that my house and my life are filled with people, these quiet moment are rare… and precious.

I did what Macaulay Culkin taught me and unfroze a cheese lasagna. I also ordered a pizza just for me. I ate half of the lasagna with a tiny spoon, which took me about 45 minutes. I was not in a hurry and my meal was hot. That doesn’t happen very often, so I HAD to enjoy it.

I called my best friend and answered the phone to my mom about seven times.

They’ll be home in one hour and forty minutes. Which means, my alone time was great, but I’ve started looking at the clock already.

I cannot wait until it’s just the 4 of us. It’s been way too crowded lately…

Just 3 more weeks and we’ll finally be home. That is… if we can actually find a house. But that’s a whole different topic and I’ll get back on that!

Take care, people from the world.