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    segunda-feira, 4 de setembro de 2023

    To my daughter Melanie (September 2023)

     01/09 - Chapter 110: Roseola

    Today was a peaceful day; thankfully, you didn't have a fever anymore, so you went to school. In the evening, we were planning to go to Kedy's house, Karina, the one I once told you about in the story about Luquinhas (the august latest chapter) and mentioned that I've reconnected with her nowadays, but, of course, always with caution.

    Your grandmother and your godmother were supposed to pick you up from school, and when they dropped you off here, we were going to visit Karina who got married and is leaving in a new apartment.

    However, when your mom and your godmother arrived, I received a text from her like this: "Nati, you haven't left yet, have you? Felipe is in a terrible mood here." So I told her that I hadn't left yet and that it was okay, I understood, and we could reschedule. But she didn't respond anymore...

    People... The fact that someone cancels plans with you because their husband is in a bad mood is already a bit disrespectful in my opinion. But then not even making new plans or apologizing for the situation... Look, that's why I often prefer not to have many friends and live a more "alone" life. That way, you don't have to go through these kinds of things and live with disappointment all the time.

    Well... At night, when I was putting you to sleep, I noticed that you had several red spots on your body. Guess what? You caught roseola from two babies at school, which was later communicated to us. But since it had been almost two weeks, we thought you wouldn't catch it. But now, your fever was explained. It was due to roseola, which precisely causes two days of fever, and after the fever subsides, the rashes appear.

    August was not an easy month. Since the 16th, all of us have been sick, with severe colds, and then you caught roseola. We entered September with you being sick as well.


     02/09 - Chapter 111: Isabella Nardoni

    Today was a day of celebration. My twin cousins Marina and Mariana turned 30. They're only a few months younger than me, much like you and your cousin Rafinha. In the party, there was going to be feijoada (I myself don't like feijoada, despite it being a very Brazilian dish, maybe because I don't like beans?) and pagode (also a Brazilian music style, but I like that one. I used to loved in the past).

    Your dad didn't really want to go, and we ended up having a bit of an argument. He never wants to attend events/parties. He doesn't like these social gatherings. I understand but it's not nice to go to parties, see everyone with their partners and you're the only one alone. That's not what a marriage is about. Doing things with your partner, even things you don't particularly enjoy, should be part of being in a relationship. But your dad has a very tricky personality. He wants me to speak the right way and convince him the right way. It's hard to always know the right way, and it's even harder to constantly have to ask, especially when it should be common sense. When a couple receives an invitation, either both go or just don't. I shouldn't have to say, 'Hey, please, let's go?'

    But anyway, we went, stayed until around 8 PM, and then headed to the mountains. When we got to my parents' house, I finished watching the documentary about Isabela Nardoni. Isabela was a 5-year-old child who suffered a tragedy at the hands of her parents and stepmother. It was a famous crime in Brazil and received a lot of media attention.

    Believe it or not, this child was from my school, SIR ISAAC NEWTON, and on the day after her death, there were many reporters outside the school.

    Isabella was thrown from the 6th floor of her dad's apartment (in our area, in 2008). She was just 5 years old at the time. The initial version presented by the father and stepmother was that Isabella had accidentally fallen from the building. However, the police investigation revealed evidence that the fall could not have been accidental. Injuries to Isabella's head and neck suggested that she had been assaulted before falling.
    They claimed they had left Isabella alone in her room while they were in the living room of the apartment. According to their version, they heard a noise and found Isabella's bedroom window open. They said the safety screen had been cut, and Isabella had fallen. But the police investigation found several pieces of evidence contradicting the parents' version, indicating that one of them (apparently accidentally) had hurt the girl to the point of rendering her unconscious. They thought she was dead and, to avoid blame, came up with the "brilliant" idea of cutting the net and claiming she had done it or someone else had thrown her. This, of course, was later proven to be impossible.
    These monsters are practically free now, after 15 years. Here in Brazil, there is no justice. The only thing that exists is injustice.
    Imagine how Isabella's mother feels seeing her daughter's killers released and resuming their lives. They wanted to cover up what appeared to be an accident. But assuming they did hurt her to the point of thinking she was dead, what would a real parent do? They would panic, call an ambulance, rush to the hospital, and CRY (something he didn't do). Unfortunately, he didn't have love for his little girl, the love of a father, simply because a real father would react differently. And on top of all this, both of them, even after almost two decades, haven't confessed the crime. Some kind of "accomplice's secret." And to make matters worse, they are foolish because knowing the case's notoriety, they should have anticipated that they would be convicted.

    At the time, they had a 3-year-old son and another child who was 11 months old (your age). If both are going to prison, forget this oath and one of them should admit guilt so the other can take care of their children instead of leaving them orphaned by both parents. They own this to Isabella's mom, that will always wonder WHY and WHAT happened. You don't have to tell the media or the people, but tell HER MOM. Give her some peace.
    Anyway, these idiots are still together to this day, which makes me feel sick.

    The mother of this girl is seemingly a kind-hearted soul, and does not wish harm upon these two. I, for sure, wouldn't have that grace. There are children who don't deserve their parents but there are also parents who don't deserve their children. Rest in peace, Isabella.

     03/09 - Chapter 112: The pain of losing your pet

    Yesterday chapter I started with "Today was a day of celebration." And today chapter I will start with "Today was a day of desolation.

    Not at the beginning, but as the day went on, my sister called my mom to tell her that her little dog, Tequila, was being taken to the hospital because she was not feeling well. We didn't take it too seriously at first, but later she called us in tears, saying that Tequila had suffered a cardiac arrest. At that moment, we became very worried, and my mom rushed to the hospital to be with her. To understand a bit about Tequila, it was your dad and me who found her. When your dad and I went on a trip at the end of 2021 to a farm in the countryside, there was a female dog and her four puppies locked up in a small cage. We asked the owner why they were locked up, and he said he had rescued the pregnant dog in the middle of the road, and she gave birth right there on the farm. But they couldn't let them roam freely because the guests might not like it, not to mention that they were very mischievous. Your dad and I couldn't just turn our backs on them. They said that if they couldn't find anyone to take care of them, they would have to release them on the streets eventually. What did your dad and I do? We took them all... And your aunt offered a temporary home until we could find someone to take care of them. It was a very distressing trip with all those puppies in the car, rolling around with every brake. But the mother was the most challenging part, as she was bigger. My sister managed to find a home for Pandora (the biggest one, the mom) with the condition that she and I would donate a bag of dog food every month (we're still doing it). One of the other puppies, Paçoca, was also adopted, but the other three took a bit longer, and during that time, she got extremely attached to them, not wanting to give them away anymore. She always found some kind of flaw in everyone who showed interest in them. And then, she officially adopted them all. We all thought it was crazy, but my sister has always been like that with animals. Your dad and I even felt guilty, but today we realized that we did a beautiful thing for the dogs and my sister.

    Returning to the story, my mom went to the hospital and called me some time later, sadly telling me that Tequila had passed away. The princess was only two years old, and we were devastated. My sister was inconsolable, suffering greatly, and I don't blame her. Only those who have had and loved their pets know the pain of losing them, often hurting even more than losing a known but less close human being.

    The worst part of it all is that it happened so suddenly, out of nowhere, catching her by surprise. There was no time to prepare. And these "sudden" deaths are the worst and the most painful. She didn't want to perform an autopsy, saying it wouldn't change anything, but then she couldn't stop wondering what had happened. I think it's always good to do an autopsy to understand and have closure, even to prevent it from happening again in the future, but we have to respect it, and the mother always has the final say, and SHE was the mother. But either you do it and have closure, or you decide not to and you DON'T keep wondering what happened, because that is torture. My sister was very fragile, and we went there to say goodbye to Tequila before burying her. It was very sad, and her siblings were sad too, they could tell she wasn't there anymore. It was an immense pain for my sister. Tequila was the most mischievous, the most active, the leader, and the happiest. She left us so young.... Now we understand that what we did was a good thing. We were a bridge between Tequila and my sister. A bridge of love. Without my sister, who knows what life she would have had in those two years. And thank God, my sister also knew the love of Tequila. So, I'm very proud of what your dad and I did.





    We had several pets along the way. Rambo, for instance, was the dog my parents had when we still lived in a house. But I was too young to remember him, yet I already loved him without even recalling.

    Pepe, our first kitten, was given to my aunt Márcia after scratching me near the eye (and I still have the scar). Against our wishes, my parents decided to give him to my aunt. We were too young to have the strength to go against our parents and explain the triviality and foolishness of what they were doing (little did they know that 20-something years later, our dog would bite their aunt Tayna in the head, and she would need over 30 stitches. And, by the way, no one ever considered giving him away. Thank God, today, my parents know it's not right and have become better people in that regard).

    Pepe was a Siamese cat and had a tragic ending. My aunt loved him unconditionally, but she lost her life to cancer, and on her deathbed, she asked my scoundrel and pedophile uncle to take care of the cat. My aunt barely passed away, and he didn't even call the cat, and his fate? He died tragically. I don't remember now if he fell from the roof or got run over at the person's house where my uncle gave him away.

    Anyway, it turns my stomach just thinking about it, and I can't help but think that I was the biggest culprit. He would have had a long and happy life in our family if it weren't for that stupid accident.

    It's worth noting that he scratched me because he traveled for 2 and a half hours by car from São Paulo to Caraguatatuba with 3 children (my cousins) grabbing him in the back of the car. The cat got stressed. And when I picked him up, he tried to wriggle out of my lap and ended up scratching the side of my face.

    Poor Pepe... rest in peace.

    Then we had Toddy. We spent so many years with Toddy. 12 years... And the pain was immense when he passed away. I'll never forget, at night, me, my parents, and my sister crying in bed. Yes, even my father, your grandfather, cried for a while (a short and brief while, but he cried), and it was, up to that moment, the first and only death of one of our pets that he cried about.

    We suffered, it took a while to heal. I only felt better and lighter in my soul after getting his name tattooed on my back.

    After a while, my sister got Snowbell. Oh, Snowbell, I'll never forget when I saw that smushed black and white face. I thought he was ugly

    and I didn't like the fact that my sister got him because right after he arrived, he got into a fight with Oliver (the second cat we had, and we still have him to this day). Oliver was the first one after many years since Toddy passed away. The only cat. But when Snowbell arrived, it was a brawl. They were trying to kill each other. After the first fight, Oliver went to the balcony and was even short of breath, breathing erratically. My dad was petting him and calming him down. But it was only once that they almost killed each other. After that, they never fought again. Snowbell won everyone's heart in the house, but especially mine.

    I can't explain the love I had for that cat. It was surreal. Perhaps because of his background? Snowbell was used for 5 years to reproduce, have kittens with another cat, and those kittens were used for sale. While he and the other cats lived in situations of extreme abuse and filth. He often stayed in small closed rooms, sleeping in his own urine. They hit him, and he was very afraid of men. When you tried to pet him over his head, he would lower it and shrink in fear. And I wanted to show that little angel that in this life, there was so much more than mean people. There was good, there was light, and there were good people.

    Don't get me wrong, I loved Toddy immensely, but Toddy lived with us since he was a tiny kitty. He never suffered, had a king's life. Now, Snowbell, my heart ached for him. I just wanted to give love and love to that little kitten, teach him what love was. And you know what? He allowed it. He let me in too quick. He slept in my bed, on the pillow above my head, on my leg. He would lie down on me wherever I went. When I worked on the computer, he would climb onto the table and lie on my keyboard just so I would keep petting him.

    Oh, daughter, Snowbell was the love of my life pet. There will never be one like him. We got him in 2017. In 2018, when Caique and I broke up, I went to San Diego, and I stayed there until mid-2019. Snow passed away at the end of 2019... So, I didn't even spend a full year and a half with him. And I lost a year when I lived abroad.

    I'll never forget the day he died; it was one of the worst in my life so far. That day, I was already feeling sad, depressed, and down. But I had made plans to go to the pizzeria with my friends (Aunt Girleide and Aunt Nádia), and I cried the entire way to the pizzeria, feeling terrible, thinking about my ex-boyfriend, and crying a lot, as if there was something bothering me beyond what I could understand (little did I know that at that very moment when I was crying and suffering so much without really understanding why, it was the moment when Snowbell was leaving this world). I spent the entire time crying, and at the pizzeria, I was in a bad mood... it was a very atypical day.

    When I returned from the pizzeria and entered the gate, my dad sat me down on the bench and said, "Daughter, we need to talk." When he said that, I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF SNOWBELL. Snowbell was my first thought. My first fear. Out of the 5 cats we had at the time, my first thought was: something happened to Snowbell?

    "Little Snow, passed away."

    I remember throwing my car keys on the ground and yelling, "NO!" And I ran into the house, up the stairs, crying, and shouting, "No, NO, N-O. SNOWBELL, NO!" I cried, slammed the gate, and shouted, "Mom, WHERE IS SNOWBELL?" At that moment, my mother was also crying. And I heard my dad going up the stairs.

    I continued to scream, and I freaked out, started kicking everything, breaking things, and shouting. I didn't even notice that my sister was in her room with Rafael (her boyfriend at the time) and with Snowbell dead in her lap. And I couldn't accept it! I STILL CAN'T ACCEPT IT TO THIS DAY, and it hurts me to think about it, to relive it... but these are things and parts of my life that were part of my history, and I wanted you to know.

    My father tried to stop me from continuing to kick things. I screamed and screamed until I lost my voice. It couldn't be happening. WHAT HAPPENED? Snow had gone to take a bath, just like many other times. I was in bed, and he was lying on my computer table. My sister picked him up from there and said, "I'm going to give him a bath." Why? I asked. "Oh, he's dirty." And he wasn't. This time, he didn't need a bath, and I already didn't like the idea.

    After the bath, he came out panting, with a racing heart and an open mouth (a sign that cats give when they're stressed). My sister calmed him down, picked him up, and after he was fine, she put him back in the carrier in the back of the car. But on that DAMN day, my sister was with my cousin Pietra, and they were in the car playing that lousy FUNK music at full volume. This not only prevented her from hearing my cat dying but must have stressed him out even more. I don't talk about it much. I've already talked about it. But I don't want to hurt her either. But she was a part of his death. I always wonder if maybe if she hadn't been listening to music in the car, he wouldn't have been stressed and had a heart attack.

    I was very sad, my dear. Snowbell was mistreated for 5 years, never knew love, never experienced affection. And at just 7 years old, he left us. Living well and happy for only 2 years, just like Tequila. But Tequila, she didn't even know cruelty, unlike Snow. And he lived happily with me, which I believe was a great love for him too, for only 1 year. Oh, if I had known, I would have taken him with me, found a way. 5 unhappy years and 2 happy years, with only 1 year as his owner, don't seem very good to me. All I know is that I called your dad, screaming and crying that fateful night, but there was nothing he could do.

    From so much pain, my body gave in, I passed out, and I went to the hospital. Even in the hospital, I had other episodes of crisis and fainting; they had to give me strong black label medication. But nothing, nothing could contain my physical body and stop my pain.

    I felt like I was submerged in a black river of needles poking every part of my body. I wanted to die. I wanted to see my Snow one more time. My sister even wanted to bury him the next day, and I couldn't imagine him staying in the fridge until the next day. That he would be under the ground, and his beautiful body would turn into a skeleton. I didn't want that. I didn't. My Snowbell deserved much more than that. Many people didn't understand the magnitude of my pain, and that's okay. It was mine, not theirs. We always want to take for granted the pain of others.

    There were weeks when I couldn't eat properly, and I just wanted to sleep. I could already feel my depression returning once again. Inexplicably, my princess Pérola was acting strangely. Pérola was Snowbell's best friend, and she had always been an independent cat. She was the only cat who didn't like sleeping on the bed, didn't like being held, and preferred to keep her distance. Not that she wasn't affectionate, she was, but when she wanted to be!

    And after Snow died, she started following me EVERYWHERE. I opened that gate, and she followed me like a tail follows a dog. If I went to the bathroom, she went along; if I went to BED, she went along. When I woke up, she woke up with me. She not only started sleeping on the bed those weeks but also on the pillow above my head, just like Snowbell used to. Her behavior was inexplicable, something she had never done before.

    Until one day, at night, I heard a loud meow and felt something at my feet. It was as if a cat were at my feet. I woke up startled and thought: Snowbell. I didn't see him, and I don't know if it was him because I don't believe in life after death. But if it exists, I'm sure it was him. I looked at Pérola; she was still at the head of the bed, not at my feet, and she was sleeping.

    ALTHOUGH, Pérola, sometimes when she's asleep, MEOWS. It's not always, it's very rare, but I've seen it happen a few times, as if it were a nightmare. So, it could have been her meowing. It's something I'll never know. But after that day, I got a tattoo of him, and with these two occurrences, my heart felt a little better. I miss him. It's been 4 years, but there's nothing in the world I would want more than for him to be alive. For him to have met you. You to have met him. You would have been best friends. I hope that one day you have your own Snowbell too, whether it's a cat, a dog, a rabbit...





    Take good care of your love, whoever it may be! We never know what tomorrow holds.

    Rest in peace Rambo, Pepe, Toddy, Snowbell, and Tequila.


    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lLXia-nFa2A


     04-05/09 - Chapter 113: 2 doctors in a row

    Yesterday we went to Dr. Sérgio's, and you only had a runny nose, but already showing signs that you would get sick, AGAIN. The pediatrician prescribed a medicine to boost your immunity, a decongestant, and recommended doing inhalation. So far, so good. The problem is that in the middle of the night of Tuesday, you had a terrible coughing episode, almost as if you were short of breath. Your dad and I were almost ran to the hospital at 2 in the morning. But before that, I called my mom, and she calmed me down. She mentioned that on that same day, I went to the pediatrician, and he listened to your lungs, which were clear. Probably, the wheezing sound you were making was coming from your throat, and the cough was a result of the flu. You've been sick since August 16, but at no point did you have this cough.

    Well, we slept with you in bed, watching over you all night. In the morning, I tried to reschedule the pediatrician, especially because you got worse, and we went to him YESTERDAY; the least he could do was accept a follow-up appointment. But no... for the second time, I tried to schedule a follow-up with him, and the receptionists said to "call, and he would provide information." Wtf? I don't want to call; I want the doctor to examine you.

    I managed to schedule an appointment with another pediatrician who saw you when you were a newborn. We liked him a lot, but we didn't stick with him because when we scheduled the appointment, we had to wait for half an hour in the parking garage (you were a newborn and it was windy...), and then we had to wait for another hour when we got upstairs (the office is tiny, and they see patients on a first-come, first-served basis, despite scheduling appointments, and they overbook). But since this was an emergency, I was willing to go through it again.

    Your dad and I went at 10 in the morning. Your dad thought he could make it back by 1 to attend his course. Poor thing... We arrived and were hopeful because, this time, even though there were people waiting in the parking garage, we didn't have to wait, and we thought it was empty. But it wasn't. There were 2 people ahead of us, and one in consultation. The one in consultation took forever, and when it ended, three children came out... Anyway, daughter, it was 12:30 when your dad took an Uber back to not miss his course. We waited for almost 3 hours to be seen in the office. But since I managed to get an appointment last minute, and you were sick, I needed to continue. But it's so difficult to wait all that time with a baby, especially in such a small room with no distractions or toys.

    Anyway... the doctor was attentive and very good once again. He said we needed to keep an eye on you to prevent it from progressing to bronchiolitis, so he prescribed a 5-day course of steroids. Then we went back, and I took care of you all day. You slept a lot. Poor thing, you're not feeling well... And your great-grandma arrived in the late afternoon to help me.

    Your dad started a tattoo course and is loving it. I encouraged him to do it because I knew about his talent and believed in his abilities. Besides, it could be what he has always been looking for. And so far, everything is going well!!!!

    Oh, curiosity: I started watching Lord of the Rings with your dad. I never thought I would watch this movie. It's not my cup of tea. But I thought it would be MUCH worse, for now, it's okay.


     07-16/09 - Chapter 114: Childlike souls

    This was a chill week. You did a lot of inhalation, but I believe you're getting better. You're going to sleep earlier now. At 9:30 PM, you're already asleep. But you're also waking up earlier.

    On Tuesday, it was your dad's 31st birthday. We went out to celebrate at a small pizzeria in the evening while your grandma and great-grandma took care of you. I chose a pizzeria I had never been to before, and it was wonderful. They served small individual pizzas, very thin and crispy crust, just the way I LOVE it. I ordered the one with brie cheese and passion fruit sauce, and the choice couldn't have been better (Massa na Caveira).

    On Friday, we attended Joaquim's birthday party, the son of my cousin Lucas. He turned 2 years old. When I checked the buffet's Instagram, I saw that it was considered the best buffet in São Paulo. But I didn't like it much because it had very few attractions. Even for the kids, there were only about 5, while other buffets have more than 20. For adults, there wasn't any attraction at all. I understand that most adults like to go to parties to sit, chat, and eat. But there are many, like your father and me, with childlike souls (your dad has a tattoo about keep a child soul alive, you should ask him), who love games and playing, and they have fun at these children's buffets. So, for people with souls like ours, it was a bit disappointing. Not to mention, we were constantly taking you here and there to see some toys, and we missed out on food because the waiters only served those who were sitting down. I saw there was crèpe on a stick (I love crèpe on a stick), and when I tried to order it, they said it was sold out. I got upset. But let's stop complaining, right? The parents and the family worked hard to rent a buffet to make it an unforgettable day for Joaquim and the parents. Sometimes, we have to stop judging so much. At the end of the day, we went out a bit, met people we like, and you had fun. That's what matters.



    And here comes another week filled with light and brightness. This week, my princess, you will turn 11 months old! Your first birthday is coming soon!


    Milestones: This week, you started clapping your hands! Finally! I had been trying to teach you for a while.


    Moreover, you also started drinking juice. And you loved it!

    You had a lot of laughter with mommy, over such silly things. But we had fun! I love you!


    18/09 - Chapter 115: Ingratitude should be considered one of the deadly sins

    We woke up at 10, and I went to leave you with your grandma to try to get some more sleep, as she was already awake taking care of Rafinha (your cousin also stayed at your grandparents' house). I tried to sleep a bit more, but then I heard you crying a lot. I hurried to see what was happening, and my mom told me that you had hit your head on the floor, but it wasn't anything serious. Since you had stopped crying, I felt more relieved.

    I tried to go back to sleep, but it was in vain; I couldn't. I woke up, we packed things quickly because your dad had a tattoo course, and we were heading to São Paulo. However, on the way, you projectile vomited. It scared both your dad and me. Right after that, I called my mom, thinking it could still be from the flu we caught. But my mom got really worried and thought it could be a reaction to the fall you had in the morning. I didn't even remember that anymore. But after researching on the internet, it clearly states that if a child hits their head and vomits within 24 hours, you need to rush to the hospital because it could be internal bleeding, hemorrhage, head trauma, only SCARY things.

    I started to panic... and I begged my mom to take you with me to the hospital. She hesitated, but she wanted to go because she was worried too, but she was taking care of my sister due to her liposuction surgery.... In the end, she took Rafinha to Tayna's mother-in-law and met me to take you.

    My desperation only increased when you vomited for the second time (a smaller amount this time, but still...) and your grandmother and I went to the hospital very concerned. We spent the whole day there, back and forth, and had an MRI done. It was your first time in the hospital in 11 months, and I hope it takes a long time for us to go back.

    Hospitals are so draining, they exhaust us... In the end, thank God everything was fine, and you didn't suffer anything, fortunately. The vomiting was purely coincidental.

    We came back, and my mom was sad because my sister was mad at her (as usual) for going to meet me. I know I depend on my mom, and I could go alone, but this time I was AFRAID that something might be happening to you, and I wanted my mom by my side.

    Now, to stop running to the hospital with her granddaughter after an accident to take care of an ungrateful daughter who decided to have unnecessary cosmetic surgery? Oh, please. And the worst part is that my sister is ungrateful, she doesn't see everything my mom does for her. She doesn't say thank you. She's not humble. She's always in a bad mood... But my mom never sets limits. My mom never learns. And that's it, daughter, we deserve what we tolerate.

    If you tolerate something and don't set limits, you deserve it. And I've talked about this so many times with her. Ingratitude is one of the worst things in the world, and I don't know why it's not considered one of the deadly sins. Always be grateful. Always have consideration for those who help you and lend a hand. Keep it in your heart and know how to repay what's done for you.

    At the end of the day, I'm just grateful that you're fine and healthy. Now, we'll be more careful!


    19/09 - Chapter 116: The last month anniversary

    Today we celebrate your last monthly milestone. It's bittersweet. Bitter because we won't celebrate your progress month by month anymore, we won't dress up alike, and we won't celebrate with the people we love.

    Sweet because mommy will save a lot of money each month, and now a new chapter of life begins. We will celebrate together year by year, and because these celebrations are now more spaced out, we will also enjoy them more because we will miss them.

    Today, Minnie's last monthly milestone was celebrated, everything was so beautiful, and once again, we were together!

    I couldn't take your last photo lying down because now you keep rolling over, and you want to touch and destroy the cake.



    But don't worry, your smash the cake session is coming up. It will be on September 28th, next week!

    I can't wait to see your reaction.

    May the new cycle begin, and may your 1st birthday come soon!

    Happy month anniversary, Minnie!



    Milestones: Besides waving goodbye, clapping your hands, and giving cheek kisses, you're now learning to blow kisses with your hand.


    21-22/09 - Chapter 117: Endless circle

    It's not very common for you to wake up early, before 9:30 is quite rare. But today, you woke up at 8:30 and didn't want to go back to sleep. Your dad and I tried everything, but in vain. The worst part was that you were crying, crying... if you got out of bed, you cried, if we tried to put you back to sleep, you cried. Clearly, it's not something usual, and it seemed like something was wrong.

    Later, around 10:30, you slept a bit with me until 12:30, and then you went to daycare.

    But when I went to pick you up at the usual time, 6:30 PM, your teacher said you had a slight fever, 37.5 degrees Celsius, and that you had been very quiet all afternoon. I was already worried.

    When we got home, I checked your temperature, and it was 38 degrees Celsius. In fact, that projectile vomit you had was not from hitting your head; it was a sign of a virus showing up. Since Monday night, you hadn't been eating much. All these signs, and I didn't realize...

    At night, of course, you slept with me. I gave you medicine, but your fever didn't go down. I waited 5 hours to give it to you again, and then you felt cold, thankfully. But when it was 8 AM, you had a fever again, so your dad and I took you to the hospital.

    Since August 16th, we've been in this back-and-forth, in this endless cycle of sickness. First, you caught my cold, then you got roseola at daycare, then another cold, and now the fourth and strongest cold. Since the 16th, we haven't had a break, a breath of fresh air. How exhausting...

    At the hospital, you arrived with a fever of 38 degrees Celsius and already spat out the medicine the nurse gave you. You won't accept anything in your mouth except bread; you spit everything out.

    When the doctor examined you, she listened to your lungs, and apparently, they were clear (like the other pediatricians had said), but just to be sure, she ordered a chest X-ray. Thank goodness she did because the X-ray showed, even if slightly, mucus in your lungs.

    If the doctor hadn't ordered it, she would have released you, and you would have had a severe relapse in the coming days. Not only that, but she prescribed antibiotics, which I'm sure will be crucial in your case.

    Today, I started giving you the antibiotic with milk since you're spitting everything out. I tried making banana pancakes that you love so much, but you refused. You only ate a little Madeleine.

    You've never been so sick, so quiet, so hot, with such a high fever. You even reached 39 degrees Celsius. And your body is weak; it seems like you're about to faint... you had liquid diarrhea.

    I'm suffering, seeing you like this, please get better. Now we're at your grandparents' house, so they can help with you. Great-grandma Sônia came to help too.

    Please, my daughter, get better. Your dad and I are sad.


    24/09 - Chapter 118: A broken Mickey

    On Saturday, with the antibiotic, you were already feeling a bit better. You were playing, but still not very interested in eating much. However, on Sunday, you woke up much better and even ate a lot of roast chicken and baked potatoes. In the evening, we went for a walk – me, you, your dad, your great-grandma Sonia, and your grandma.

    When we returned, your great-grandma Celeste said to me, 'Nah, let's talk. How much did you pay for the Mickey?' I was a bit puzzled for a few seconds and asked, 'Mickey?' Then it suddenly dawned on me that she was talking about the giant porcelain Mickey cookie jar that I had brought for a customer from the U.S.

    At first, when I posted the cookie jar in the sales group, I never thought it would be so huge and delicate. Luciana, my sales partner, had a tremendous effort bringing it on the plane. She carried it by hand. We took all the care in the world, and what happened? My grandma decided to touch it, thinking it was a single piece, and Mickey's head rolled on the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces.

    Babe, I got so nervous, I went to my car and cried and cried. It's silly, isn't it? I think it's a buildup of things. But I was also so disappointed with the work and care we put into that merchandise. And also because the customer who bought this product is such a lovely person, so sweet, she buys all things related to Mickey, and I felt upset for her, for her loss, because obviously, we wouldn't bring another one of these; it's not worth the value for the effort.

    But I cried in secret because, despite my grandma not being supposed to touch such delicate things, I felt sorry for her. She asked the price, and when I said 'R$500,' her eyes widened, and she became very sad.

    Sometimes, due to our mistakes, we end up paying a high price for it. So, besides the disappointment of losing that amount of money (and my grandma is not a wealthy person), the shame must be immense.

    I believe that breaking something is always more embarrassing for the person who broke it than for the owner of the product. Imagine going to your friend's house, seeing a beautiful crystal decoration, and accidentally breaking the expensive ornament belonging to your friend's mother. It's fine; you'll pay for it, but can you imagine the embarrassment you would feel? Of course, your friend's mother would be upset, but would she be as upset as you?

    Well, I think my grandma learned her lesson and won't touch delicate things for a long time.

    But the lesson I want to pass on is this: always try to think about others and what they're feeling, regardless of how you're feeling. It's another case of the phrase 'treat others how you would like to be treated.'

    For example, later she paid me, everything was fine, and I realized how silly it was to have cried. Now, if I had argued with my grandma, telling her she shouldn't have touched it, cried in front of her, can you imagine how she would have felt? She was already feeling bad; it would only make it worse.

    So, in life, we need to be polite, especially with our parents/grandparents/great-grandparents, with everyone in general, and try to understand that accidents happen, and we need to help instead of making things worse.

    I'm glad I had that attitude. And I hope that one day you can deal with frustration and anger by putting someone you love ahead of these negative feelings.

    Although I know it's very hard to think clearly when something upsets us... But that feeling of being able to overcome negative emotions and do the right thing is amazing.

    RIP MICKEY


    28/09 - Chapter 119: First steps & Sound of Freedom

    This whole week has been difficult. You can't go to school because you're not 100% recovered. But it's getting better. But we still need to take careful care of you. But I need to tell you that today you took your first 2 steps. I believe that by your 1st birthday party in a few weeks you will be walking. You were always super developed, and did things at the right time! I got emotional when I saw you taking those little steps and I cried a little, I hugged you really tight. What a beautiful scene. We're staying this whole week at my parents' house, because they're helping us look after you, administer your medicine, etc.

    Your grandmother arrived to stay with you at night while your father and I went to the cinema together after so many years... We went to watch "Sound of freedom". Everyone is talking about this movie. They said that it is based on real events, that it is very sad and that every mother should see it to be even more cautious. And so we went. Right at the beginning I cried a lot. The movie addresses child trafficking. Children kidnapped to be used for child sex with disgusting men in several countries. The reality is so absurd, so sad, that it is impossible not to cry. And to think that right now, as I write this message to you, there are young children being sexually exploited, forced to have sex with pedophiles and no one can save them. Whoever said that slavery ended a long time ago is mistaken, and has no idea of the scale of what is happening. Slavery still exists, and half of it is made up of children. The child sex industry has increased by 5000% in past 5 years. My God, I can't accept it... children are pure, innocent beings, they are true angels on earth who should never be exploited in this way, MUCH less sexually. Imagine the life, suffering and horror that these children goes through. This makes me believe in God even less.

    This police officer Tim Ballard who saved dozens and dozens of children reveals this distressing reality in the movie. The movie took five years to be released, precisely by powerful rich people who did not want the film to be released. It was a small, unknown studio that made the movie and the studio now are encouraging everyone to watch it, even giving away free tickets. But my thoughts: even the children who by a miracle are rescued, life will never, ever be the same. When a person already suffers a type of sexual abuse in childhood, they are marked by this event throughout their adult life. Imagine being a child, suffering rape and sexual abuse daily, repeatedly for so long... It's something that no one can save. It is something that has been lost forever and something that the child will never recover from 100%. The death penalty is not enough for anyone who commits this type of crime. In fact, any punishment is little. My care for you will redouble, and I promise to do everything I can to preserve your childhood and for you to NEVER face any type of sexual abuse. Inside or outside your family. I will not take my eyes off you, I will protect you. I can never imagine anyone hurting you or you going through any similar experience. My mother's heart can't bear the thought.





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