I can take next to nothing.

Even though I am and always have been panicking for all sorts of reasons, I am still conscious enough to realize my reasons are small.

There’s a saying in Portuguese that says God will only give you as much as you can take. If there is in fact a God up there, I’m happy He realizes I can handle next to nothing and that’s fine by me.

At the end of the day, we are finally living in Canada, I finally got a decent job, and my girls are perfect. On top of that, we all love each other.

Today, I came home with chest pains.

I called my cousin during lunch and she told me that not only her 14 days old baby probably had a syndrome , it’s possible that he’ll need brain surgery. As in, his soft spot is not soft, leaving his brain no room to grow, as the skull is not flexible as it should be at that age. Hopefully, the x-ray will show that the skull is just overlapped. I mean, that’s what I am hoping for after trying to google some good news.

She was desperate. She hasn’t slept ever since he was born. She is afraid of looking away. There’s absolutely nothing she can do to help her child and that killed me.

I pray to this God I believe from time to time that things always work out for me. I am not strong at all. I’m afraid of birds. Tiny birds. That’s how much I can’t handle problems. I am just not prepared for this world.

Our kids are a handful. I sleep with one eye open. I haven’t felt rested in about 3 years. I am exhausted and I miss tons of things. that can only mean one thing: We are the lucky ones.




In case I ever forget

You need to calm down.

They’re not going to cry themselves to sleep today. That moment is gone. It’s in the past.

You don’t have to go through that again ever, unless you feel strong enough to do so. You don’t have to.

When you go home tonight, you won’t find them sick. They are ok. They are playing all day and communicating just fine.

They won’t have a weird crisis and scream for minutes that feel like hours without you knowing where it hurts or itches. Not again.

You won’t fall asleep while breasfeeding, afraid you’ll roll over them. You are not breastfeeding anymore.

They won’t need surgery to push their belly buttons back, since it came out because they cried so much. It’s back to normal already.

You will be able to take a shower without anyone screaming at your door. Without hearing them cry. You might even brush your hair today, if you skip dinner.

They won’t be impossible to settle or take 15 minutes naps. They’ll sleep through the night and sit on the couch to watch cartoons not looking like they are in pain.

You won’t wake up every 2 hours even when they are sleeping.

They’ll eat normal food, with little to no help and they will not throw up or choke.

It is fine.

You need to calm down and not be aprehensive.

Those days were hard, and they are gone.

Join the kids in the play room you love so much.

Find out that “enjoying” means. It does exist.

Remember that and, if you forget, read it again. It is the truth.


I’m not a fan of this physical plane we’re in. At all.

I guess some people wanna be rich and famous, so this plane works fine for them. We basically just wanna be healthy and together, which is only partially up to us in this stupid plane.

You can always take your vitamins, eat healthy, exercise or whatever. I mean, you can always try not to give yourself a heart attack on purpose. But that won’t stop the car from hitting you at the corner or the genetic tumor to kill you slowly and ruinning your plans.

We have no control over ourselves on this plane. We barely control our lives.

We come to work, count the days to the weekend so that our kids can get an education that’ll allow them to come to work and count the days to the weekends.

If we don’t do that, we’ll starve.

And that’s just ’cause we’re the lucky ones! If we were in the other side of the planet we wouldn’t even have the option not to starve.

And sometimes we’re happy because our favorite band is playing in town and we’re sad because we’re not going.

And it’s all too small.

We are all so small that if there is actually a God looking after us, what makes us think we’d matter to Him?

Us, the tiny little dots in the corner of the universe going to work every day and counting the days for the long weekends.

Unless a car hits us on our way there.