Anger (is for fools)

Yesterday I was angry. Still, indecisive like I am, I just couldn’t decide whether or not it was worth it to put people in their places with my words or not.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot to say! But something inside me kept me from saying it. I needed to think about it first.

Yes, I am surprisingly mature.

Would they reflect on what I had to say? Most likely not.

Would they change? Definitely not.

So, what was the point, really? To proof that I was superior? To make me feel good? Well, I figured there were other ways of doing that, which didn’t require that much energy.

Fighting (arguing) can be pretty time-consuming and low-level. I personally don’t like it and I don’t do it unless I absolutely have to AND there’s actually a purpose to it. Like, it will solve the conflict or lead to some sort of conclusion.

 

First, I chose to just allow myself be angry.

Then, I talked to my husband (my mom, my boss & my best friend- haha) about it. I let it all out and discussed with them if my anger was unfunded or not.

It was not.

Then, we watched a nice little movie I love… ’cause… well, it was finally on netflix and you can’t say “no” to 16 candles (if you can, you are a very weird person)

16 candles

The movie helped, but a while later, I was still upset.

At one point, I realized that I was upset for letting people get to me. It made me feel immature at some level. It made me feel quite stupid, actually.

Apparently, even the Bible agrees that only the stupid get angry, so I was on the right track:

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At least I think that’s from the Bible. Right?

Then I googled “What would Jesus do”. – for real – I really, really did that –  it wasn’t helpful AT ALL and I decided to actually create that website myself… ’cause that was just freaking genius!

Since googling “Jesus” didn’t help, as a last resort, I called my dad – who I have really been missing right now – and he laughed! He reminded me that we are the people that matter and that outsiders should not have the power to interfere with our lives.

My dad just calmed me down. And he did something important: He reminded me that the focus of my life now was my children. So, I should really not give a fuck about how this makes me feel and I should focus on “how is this affecting them?”.

As a mother, it is my responsibility to make sure I set the example for my children and I keep the bad examples away from them. I do not want to bring them up in an environment where people have completely different values than mine and whose attitudes towards life I consider immature, disrespectful and unhealthy.

I also believe that the people who genuinely care about my children will always put them first, like I will; like I see my husband and my parents doing. I mean, my husband sacrificed his career; people mock him for being a stay-home-dad but he chose that because he can see how important the time he is spending with our children is! He is a GREAT parent!

So, because of that, I tried work things out with these people, for they were also a part of their lives.

I called. 3 times.

No one picked up the phone.

I texted.

All I got were rude immature answers back.

Wait… what?

My children are only 3 years old and I am happy this happened now, when they are young enough not to understand what was going on. They are very loving and caring. They never fight. We will never hit them. We hug and kiss them so much they hug and kiss each other all the time. If you can’t behave nicely in front of my children, I will most likely cut you off, pal.

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So, there you had it! This was not the kind of attitude I would tolerate around my children. I do not want them to grow up in a nasty environment and I most certainly do not want to see them acting like that when they grow up. 

Unfortunately, to keep your immediate family values alive, sometimes I’ll need to cut some people off, for they will never change.

 

I’ll give them time and space to grow up and mature so they can be allowed around my family again for it is my job to make sure my girls will have all the reasons in the world to keep that big smile on their faces. I know life is cruel  and they’ll figure that out by themselves soon enough. NOT at the age of 3 and NOT coming from the people who were supposed to protect them.

Not all souls have light. Some of them are still learning but it’s just something they’ll have to learn by themselves and NOT at the cost of my well-being.

Sorry, I can’t fix you. Not my job.

Late-late movie night, tonight!

Long weekend

Long weekends are wonderful! Now that the girls are sleeping through the night and not on diapers anymore I actually found the time to put on make up – which I swear I hadn’t in YEARS – and smell the rain… I’m telling you, it’s amazing.

We were supposed to visit Quebec city this weekend and boy, was I excited. Except, we ended up not going ’cause my husband’s dad had a change of heart – to make a long story short.

Yeah, I was disappointed. VERY disappointed.

Fine! I was sobbing at one point!

I feel like Quebec city is gonna be our final destination here in Canada. I feel like it’s gonna be home! I can’t wait to go home. I am desperate to go home…

At one point my husband looked at me and said “we should get you your camera”. Which made very little sense through all the sobbing but I knew I had to say “yes”. I mean, I had been waiting to get the stupid camera for at least 17 years.

So, we did and quickly I was “kinda-ok” with postponing our trip indefinitely.

For the rest of the weekend, the 4 of us were trapped in the house, but I didn’t mind.

I studied French as much as I could (I still suck at it) and later I played with my camera as my girls played with their little trains….

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Outside there were beautiful thunders and the bluest skies.

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And then, just like that, Tuesday came and I found myself longing for the next long weekend.

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700

We have 700 dollars.

That’s it.

No savings, no possessions. Just 700 dollars until the next paycheck comes in.

This is not exactly where you plan on being when  you are 35 with 2 kids, though. And, any normal person could agree that the number generates a little bit of stress.

I feel like Carrie here. Yes, THAT Carrie. The one from sex and the city.

carrie

 

Except, since I only own about 3 pairs of shoes, I can’t really blame it on them.

There’s also another good point that differs me from Carrie. I am not about to become a successful writer or marry a millionaire, so, figuring this out is basically up to me.

So, I am trying to.

For the moment, no take-outs should do the trick. It is amazing the amount of money we spend when we are too lazy to cool/clean.

I should probably learn how to use the dish washer too. We don’t have those in Brazil! Therefore… it’s basically a box in our kitchen. We never dared touching it.  Not that learning what that’s about is gonna save us any money (quite the opposite) but it should save us time and if we have more TIME we won’t feel so tired and won’t need that many take-outs.

Now, here’s the really crazy idea: Maybe my husband should get a job as well.

So, technically, if my money can cover all of our expenses, his money should go to the bank. Just like we did back in Brazil.

In 2 years, we should have enough for the down payment for the house.

In 5 years, the 40-year-old me goals will be a reality.

There you go, people. No need to stress over a tiny 3-digit number! I even feel like I shouldn’t have stress-eaten all that pizza for lunch 10 minutes ago.

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Temporarily Poor Shell

2 years in Canada

Today is Augst 4th. That means that 2 years ago exactly we landed in our new country. It’s been 2 years since I last smelled those familiar scents that my brain associates to the word “home”.

For the longest time I repeated the same thing to my friends back there:

“We are living in Canada, but we still don’t have a life here”. ‘Cause we really didn’t.

I mean, there’s the people at work and the people on the street, but they are not “our people”. And, since the girls don’t go to school yet, our routine is kinda weird. It feels like a crazy long vacation. It just doesn’t feel real enough.

When we were in Toronto, I made 2 good friends. But we couldn’t stay there and we started it all over.

We moved to a place where no one would talk to us. It was a terrible neighborhood because we felt like we were being judged all the time. The neighbors wouldn’t even say good morning.

But a couple weeks ago, things changed. Thanks to the bed bug infestation in our neighbor’s house, we were forced (and  allowed) to move.

We moved to a condo with a few more brazilian families. Instantly,  we moved close to friends.

Sometimes we have dinner together on a Monday just for the heck of it. Our kids play together all the time. We laugh. We talk.

And yes, we all need support and we all need a friend right now. But these people have made me feel like we have a life here. They are our people. They make our phone rings and we make plans for the weekends. I am so, so happy they are here.

They almost make me wanna stay in this city…

life

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Many years from now

Sometimes I wanna fast forward life.

It’s not that I don’t wanna enjoy those precious moments yet to come. Their first day of school, putting up the Christmas tree every year, riding our bikes together as a family, while we are still young enough to do it, or the fact that we still have a long way to go before my babies move out  of our house.

The reason why, sometimes, I wanna be in my 70’s is because, by then, I’ll have a different kind of peace.

When I’m 70, my girls will be 40. I know they’ll no longer depend on me. I will not worry about my girls growing up without a mother every-fucking-time there’s a disease outbreak of some sort.

When I’m 70, I’ll know that we’ve made it. I’ll know that we’ve had the most amazing, incredible life and that every single time I felt threatened that someone or something could’ve teared us apart, it was just a false alarm.

I might be able to sleep when I’m 70.

And, yes, I’ll worry about my 40 year old babies just as much as I do now and I’ll be sad at the thought of leaving them… but hopefully I’ll be mostly grateful and I won’t be afraid.

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35

So, it happened. I turned 35 last Saturday.

Five years ago, when I turned 30, I freaked. Well, I am a firm believer that everyone has the poetic license to freak out whenever they reach a milestone.

Back then, my husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, asked me “where do you see yourself in 5 years?” .

The childless, single, living-in-Brazil, 30-year-old me replied specifically:

When I am 35 I wanna have 3 children and I wanna be living in a place that’s not New York but would allow me to go there WITHOUT getting on an airplane on a long weekend or whenever I feel like it.

He took a deep breath and said “well, that’s quite hard”.

I just kinda…

Dude… you asked me what I would wish for, if I could wish for anything in the world. I was not being realistic.

Except, it turns out I was.

So, here I am, the 35 year old me. I am short one kid (by choice) and I must say, despite all the fake-confidence I had when I said those words to my husband, I too am very surprised that in 5 years I got myself where I wanted to be.

But apparently, I do have the secret power to attract the things I say and I feel like that’s a power I should use.

So, I’m gonna make a wish for when I’m 40.

When I’m 40… I wanna be really happy. Just like I am now, except, without the panic disorder, which will allow me to actually ENJOY it. I  also want my girls to still be my best friends and still hug me. I want us all to be healthy. I wanna be in love with my city and if it’s not too much to ask… I kinda wanna be working with something fun and maybe be living in my own house?

Here I go again, people… shooting for the stars. And once again, I know I’ll surprise myself.

Letting the memories out

I just realized I had a record. I had a record of shit that’s been going through my head from the moment we knew we were moving to Canada.

So, I imported all my old blog posts to here ‘ cause I wanted to read them again and maybe figure stuff out.

At this point I realize there’s never been anything bad going on with me, yet, I always sound scared. I think it’s about time I control that. I mean, I should be an adult by now, according to my birth certificate.

The last couple of years have been turbulent, though. We’ve moved from Brazil to Canada and we are about to move for the 4th time in Canada already, which is a LOT, considering we have only been here for 1 year and 10 months.

Apparently, I am not that good with changes and I am desperate to go home. Not the home I came from. The new one. The new place that feels like home.

Two weeks ago when we were in Montreal I was sure I had found that place.

Next year, when you read this, I will not sound scared and lost anymore.

That’s a promise.