01/10 Chapter 452 If Time Could Slow Down
October is here, and I have a feeling it’s going to be an emotional month.
The month I’ll finally stop wearing my surgical binder full-time — just a few hours a day now.
The month I’ll get those stubborn stitches removed.
The month I’ll try regression therapy, to see if there’s really something beyond this world.
The month your paternal grandparents will arrive.
The month of my sister’s birthday.
The month I’ll finally get to buy new clothes and wear them — with my new body.
And, last but most important of all, the month of your third birthday.
I can hardly believe you’re about to turn three. I’ve always said that time moves slowly between zero and ten — at least for those living through childhood. It drags a little from ten to twenty too. But once you hit your twenties, something shifts. The years seem to shrink in half, flying by so quickly it’s hard to believe they hold the same number of days as before. And yet, nothing compares to how fast time moves once you become a parent. These three years feel like just one.
I remember it all so vividly, my pregnancy, the constant fear of losing you, the day you were born, the moment I first saw your tiny face. And now here you are, this little girl who goes to the bathroom by herself, picks out her own clothes and shoes, tells me about her day at school, and makes me laugh with the funniest stories.
Every morning you wake up asking if today is the day of your party, and I tell you it’s almost here. But between you and me, I think I’m just as excited as you are. This celebration will be unforgettable. There was a time I wasn’t sure I’d be here for it, not after the scare I had with the surgery, but here I am, ready and so, so grateful.
I hope October treat us nice.
02/10 Chapter 453 Learning to lose
Yesterday we spent a little time at Noah and Sophia’s house. While you played with Sophia’s Barbies, I joined her, Noah, and Cheila for a card game — Uno.
Sophia won the first round fair and square, but Noah didn’t take it well. He got angry, started chasing her around, even tried to bite her. Then he sulked and said he’d only play again if she didn’t. And his mom agreed. Sophia didn’t seem to mind sitting out, but that's just plain wrong.
Children need to learn early that when you play a game, you have to accept both outcomes: sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. No one likes losing, but being a sore loser is far worse. I know he’s just a child, but if that kind of behavior isn’t corrected or explained, it only gets worse with time.
You’ve always been different. Your frustration usually comes from not being able to do something, rather than losing. Like when you can’t fit a puzzle piece just right, or when your block tower collapses, or when you try to put on your shoes and they won’t go on. Those are the things that upset you.
But we’ve played games together before and sometimes I won, sometimes your dad, and sometimes you. And every time, you were genuinely happy for whoever won.
Today I tried playing a Disney memory game with you. I took out several cards and left only a few — just the princesses — otherwise it would’ve been too many pieces, and memory games are already tricky enough on their own.
But every time you flipped the second card and it didn’t match, you got really upset and started to cry. I kept trying to explain that it was okay, that missing a pair was part of the game, that losing was normal.
I told you that in life, when we lose, we have two choices: we can keep trying, or we can give up and walk away. But crying doesn’t help. You were so frustrated that I decided to end the game and put it away.
Then you looked at me and said, with all the seriousness in the world, “This game is ugly. I don’t want to play anymore. It’s too hard.”
Oh, my sweet girl, every day you get a little smarter, and somehow even more adorable.
But losing is complicated. Still, I’ll try to guide you through it early on. In life, we’ll lose over and over again — in games and competitions, in challenges, in ideas, in debates, in friendships, in people. Losing is inevitable. What matters is learning how to handle it.
You can always choose to keep trying, which doesn’t mean you’ll necessarily succeed, but it teaches you persistence and resilience, or you can choose to walk away. And if you do, then let it go. Don’t dwell on it, don’t replay it in your head, don’t look back.
These days, I feel like people — especially the generations after mine — struggle so much with losing. It’s as if no one can accept not being the best anymore. Many games and competitions don’t even keep score now, just to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings. But that’s not how life works. Life doesn’t hand out participation trophies.
Losing teaches you to be humble. It builds character, teaches patience, and makes victory — when it comes — so much sweeter. It’s through losing that we grow, that we learn to clap for others, to recognize that our value isn’t tied to winning.
And if I can help you understand that from a young age — that it’s okay to fall, okay to fail, okay to lose — then I’ll feel I’ve done something right as your mother. Because the strength to rise again is worth far more than the satisfaction of always winning.
03-05/10 Chapter 454 I thought I knew better
This week, you were clearly coming down with something — coughing, sneezing, looking tired. I called the physical therapist to do your ozone therapy, and on Thursday we went for your weekly injection.
Even though the needle is thin and the shot takes barely a second, taking you there always feels like torture. You suffer long before it even happens, and when it finally does, it’s chaos and not just for you, but for me, watching you in that state, and for the nurses trying to get it done.
Your dad complained that the last two times you ended up with two big bruises on your little bottom. I tried explaining it’s because you move around like the girl from The Exorcist, and it takes three of us to hold you still. Since you fight so hard, the nurse ends up giving the shot however she can, and that’s why it hurts so much. But in his mind, that explanation doesn’t make sense because he’s never there to see the whole nightmare unfold.
The truth is, I sympathize with you. I was exactly the same. I only started to get better after I turned twenty. When I was 15, I had to get a blood test, and my boyfriend at the time, Marcelo, went with me. I cried and screamed so much he didn’t know what to do with himself or where to hide from embarrassment. To this day, I cringe thinking about it. 15 years old and putting on a show like that, in front of my boyfriend.
And that wasn’t the only time. When I got my tetanus shot, also at 15, it hurt so much I called him crying, sobbing uncontrollably. At first, he picked up the phone sounding terrified, like he’d been caught cheating or something, and when I finally managed to say it was because of the shot, he burst out laughing. And honestly, he was right to laugh.
It’s one thing to cry like that as a baby or a little kid, maybe up to ten years old. But after that, unless you have an actual phobia — which I don’t — it’s just embarrassing. What I have is fear, discomfort, and a dash of panic.
I’ve always hated needles, ever since I was your age. The worst part isn’t even the needle itself, but the moments leading up to it, the anxiety, the dread, the feeling of helplessness that builds up before it happens. That’s what gets me. I used to get weekly injections for bronchitis every Tuesday, and I hated Tuesdays with all my heart. I cried every single time. So believe me, my love, I get it.
And yet, even though I understand, I still find myself trying to reason with you every time — explaining what will happen, promising it won’t hurt, and when you still panic, I lose my patience. Then the guilt hits me hard, because I know better. I was just like you. I end up feeling like a hypocrite, an impatient fool when what you really need is compassion. I need to do better. I want to do better.
Every week, whether it’s me or Grandma taking you, we bring a treat — a candy, a toy — something to reward you afterward. But your fear is so big that not even the promise of a new toy or chocolate helps calm you down. You only enjoy them afterward, once the storm has passed.
This time it was especially hard. I lost my temper and told you I was sad and disappointed, that you weren’t acting like a big girl. You cried even more. I’m sorry, my love. I’ll do better next time. I promise I’ll try harder to step into your little shoes, especially knowing I once stood in them myself. My mother, I remember, was always patient and kind. I want to be like her.
If I could, even tho I hate needles I swear I would change places with you, so you wouldn't go through that. Sigh... Maybe next week will be better.
Oh, and I decided to keep you home these last couple of days and skip school for the rest of the week. Next week will be Children’s Week, full of games and fun activities to celebrate October 12th. I want you healthy and happy for that, to enjoy every moment with your friends.
I can’t wait for your immune system to finally grow stronger so we can leave these awful injections behind. For now, you’re still catching colds often, but at least it’s not getting worse, and that’s already something to celebrate.
06-10/10 Chapter 455 We're on this earth to have some fun!
The school’s Children’s Week was absolutely magical.
On Monday, they had “Funny Family Day,” when the kids had to dress up as either mom or dad. Most of the girls went as their moms and most of the boys went as their dads. I honestly had no idea how to dress you up, especially after I saw Rafinha’s photo. He showed up in a full Hurley outfit, cap, and chain, looking more like his dad than his dad himself.
I thought and thought, and then decided to sacrifice one of my cheap pairs of glasses. I snapped one of the lenses out and put them on you. Then I added a cropped top and a skirt, the kind of outfit I wear sometimes and ta-da! You were a hit. Everyone said you looked exactly like me. Some of the teachers even said you were the kid who looked the MOST like their mom.
I had to laugh because, honestly, I don’t really see you resembling me or your dad. Maybe no mother or father truly does. I should probably ask other parents. To me, you just feel different. Yours. Unique. But here’s the result, judge for yourself:
Tuesday was Camping Day.
The teachers set up little tents and made a cozy circle spot for story time. They even made fruit skewers with marshmallows and created a fake campfire to make everything feel like a real campsite.
The teachers became actresses for a day, using puppets and creativity to perform. Afterwards, you all made crowns and magic wands.
Thursday was Arts Day!
Playdough made at school, squishy gel beads to feel with your hands, and clay modeling to get messy and creative.
And Friday ended the week with a golden bow: Old-School Games and Picnic Day.
Games from my childhood: sack races, hot potato, “barra manteiga,” charades, jump rope, and “Escravos de Jó.”
I'll explain briefly those games in case you never heard of (too young to remember this day)
• Sack Race (Corrida de Saco):
Children step into large sacks and hold them up around their waists. They have to hop to the finish line without falling. The first one to get there wins.
• Hot Potato (Batata Quente):
Kids sit in a circle and quickly pass an object (the “potato”) while music plays. When the music stops, whoever is holding the potato is out.
• “Barra Manteiga”:
Two teams stand in a line, facing each other from a good distance away, each player with one arm stretched out.
One player from Team A runs toward Team B and taps the hand of any player they choose.
As soon as they tap someone’s hand, they must run back to their original team’s line before the chosen player catches them.
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If the runner is caught before reaching their team’s line, they are “captured” and must switch teams.
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If they make it back safely, it becomes the turn of the player who was tapped to choose someone from the other team to tap next.
The game continues back and forth, with players switching teams depending on who gets caught.
• Charades (Mímica):
A player silently acts out a word, movie, animal, or character using only gestures, while the others try to guess what it is.
• Jump Rope (Pular Corda):
One or more children jump over a swinging rope (held at each end or jumped individually), often to the rhythm of a song.
• “Escravos de Jó”:
Kids sit in a circle with small objects in hand (like toys or stones) and pass them to the next person in rhythm with a traditional song. The challenge is to stay in sync with the music without messing up the timing.
Now we just wait for Sunday—Children’s Day—when gifts arrive and fun with your cousin begins.
Being a child is wonderful. I miss it. ✨
12/10 Chapter 456 There's magic in the air
And then, the long-awaited Children’s Day finally arrived.
Technically, we only managed to give you the presents later in the evening, because Tayna spent the whole day at the hospital with Aquiles. My German Shepherd is getting so old… and I know his time with us is running out. :(
He had to go through another surgery to remove fabric he had eaten—again. But this time, being older, the surgery left him very weak. He can’t walk anymore. When he pees or poops, it ends up all over him, and my sister has to bathe him every time.
There’s something important you need to know about my sister: she truly loves animals. She even tried being vegetarian once. At one point, she seriously considered studying veterinary medicine, and honestly, it would’ve been perfect for her. She’s naturally gifted at caring for others, she’s patient, nurturing… it’s who she is. But her ambition pushed her toward another path. In a way, it feels like a wasted calling.
Since she and Rafael could only make it later at night, we waited for them so we could all open the gifts together.
Rafinha got the talking Bluey doll, a musical and activity book—also from Bluey—and a plush shark.
You, on the other hand, received a unicorn you can “walk” with a leash, and it even came with a matching unicorn costume for you to wear. You were instantly in love.
You also got makeup and nail polish from Great-grandma Sônia, and a Frozen microphone—which, of course, you adored.
Of course, there were a few little squabbles here and there—mostly because Rafinha has been wanting absolutely everything that belongs to you lately. Yes, even your Frozen dress… and your makeup. (Which, honestly, was hilarious.)
But this time, you didn’t even care about his things. You were completely in love with your own gifts. And next week, you’ll be getting even more, when your long-awaited birthday finally arrives. <3
Watching how happy you both were made me miss being a child all over again.
14/10 Chapter 458 Reality runs up your spine
Today, you gave mommy quite a scare. What was supposed to be just another ordinary day ended up taking both me and grandma by surprise.
Since you didn’t go to school because we were afraid you might catch something right before our trip to the beach and especially before your birthday, you stayed home with me all day, playing and laughing. In the evening, just before I went to pick Rafinha up from school, grandma stopped by to give you a kiss and chat with me for a bit.
Just as grandma was about to leave, you were in a playful mood, all giggles and silly faces, and ran into my bedroom, then locked the door behind you. At first, I didn’t worry; you do that often. But usually, you lock yourself in the bathroom, and the bathroom lock is different. That one is built-in and you already know how to open it. My bedroom, though, has a regular key—the kind you insert and remove. So when you turned it, the key slipped out of your little hands, and after that, you couldn’t figure out how to put it back in the right position.
At first, I used my “serious mom voice”:
“Melanie, unlock the door.”
You tried—as you always do—but that’s exactly when the key fell. After that, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t get it back in.
Grandma, who was already halfway out the door, rushed back.
I was already getting anxious, and I repeated more firmly without fully realizing that this lock wasn’t like the one you were used to:
“Melanie, open the door!”
And that’s when reality was running up our spine, realizing that you were really locked in there. Panic washed over the whole house. Me, your grandmother… and then you. You understood you were stuck, and fear quickly took over.
You started to cry, and there wasn’t much we could do except call a locksmith or the fire department. Breaking the door down wasn’t an option, since you were right behind it.
We tried to calm you and teach you how to put the key back in. You tried over and over, poor thing, your hands shaking. Every time I gave you instructions, you’d cry and say, in between sobs,
“Okay,” and then try again. You were such a little lady about it. If it were Rafinha in your place, he’d probably be screaming and throwing himself on the floor. But you were honestly trying to solve the problem, to get yourself out. And even though I was terrified, a part of me—irrational and panicked—wanted to scold you for locking the door in the first place.
Then grandma had the idea to call the building manager, who happens to be our next-door neighbor. He came over with a set of keys. The first one didn’t work, but the second did because our doors are the same model as his. And just like that, you were free.
In that moment, I didn’t know whether to give you a light scolding or to pull you into my arms. I ended up doing both, I spoke to you firmly, then hugged you and soothed you. Grandma hugged you too, but had to rush out immediately afterward because all of this had delayed her from picking up your cousin from school.
Once again, the building manager saved us.
Now I’m certain you’ll never lock a door again.
Sometimes we really do have to learn from our mistakes. Sometimes we need to experience a scary situation to understand why we shouldn’t repeat it.
But after everything, I showed you how to insert the key properly, how to lock and unlock the door. I’ll keep teaching you every day, even though I’m now keeping the key safely hidden in my wardrobe. I still want you to know what to do if this ever happens again in someone else’s house or anywhere else.
What hurts the most is knowing we had already removed the keys from almost every room in the house, except from my bedroom, because you had never locked that one before. But there’s a first time for everything. Lesson learned… for both of us.
15/10 Chapter 459 So here I am all alone
The day finally arrived—you were going to the beach with your dad and your paternal grandparents. They showed up at our apartment around 10:45 in the morning, just as my mom was on her way to pick me up for my doctor’s appointment to finally get the stitches from my surgery removed.
And then something unexpected happened. I asked you to give them a hug when they walked in—half expecting you to hide behind me like you usually do. But you didn’t. You walked right up to them, offered a hug, and even kissed them. After so many months without seeing them, you welcomed them so sweetly. It caught me by surprise in the best possible way.
I hugged them too, and they brought gifts for everyone in the family. For you, they chose the most adorable dresses—just right for your current “I only wear dresses” phase.
You played and interacted with them a little, until my mom arrived. Your grandparents went down to the garage to greet her before leaving.
We talked for a moment in the garage, and I handed your father the car keys. Otherwise, you’d have gone by bus—and besides the fact that buses don’t have proper car seats for children, the trip would’ve taken much longer. It meant I’d be without the car for a few days and would have to figure things out on my own, but your safety comes first. Always.
I hugged you so, so tight, kissed you over and over, and almost cried. It would be the longest stretch of days without you by my side, and my mind instantly began doing what every parent’s mind does—running through every worst-case scenario in the name of keeping you safe. But I knew I had to breathe deeply, step back from the fear, and choose to think good thoughts instead.
After you left, we headed to the doctor’s office to finally get the stitches from my belly removed. The whole thing was surprisingly quick, and the scar already looked better than I expected. The doctor even complimented my body—along with a few of the women there. Now it’s just a matter of time to see how the scar will settle.
I’ll try to make the most of this time—get some work done, maybe watch a few movies and series. But I already know I’ll glance to my side and feel the emptiness. It’s going to be so strange without you here.
The house will feel… quiet. Too quiet.
17/10 Chapter 460 Though we're far apart, you're always in my heart
On the 15th and 16th, you were perfectly fine. Your dad only called me once, briefly, and I understood why. First, so you wouldn’t see me and start asking for me. And second, because they want to enjoy the trip with you, and I need to be strong and not keep interrupting.
Later that afternoon, he called again and showed you wearing just the bikini bottom, running around the beach, jumping from side to side, having the time of your life. He and your grandparents buried your legs in the sand and shaped them into a mermaid tail, beautiful and glittering in your little world. I don’t even need to say how much you loved it, right? Lately, all you talk about are princesses and mermaids.
Today marks two days without you, and I miss you so much it almost hurts. Your dad only called tonight. We didn’t talk for long, but the moment you heard my voice, your eyes filled with tears, your lips puckered, and you whispered that you wanted Mommy. I had to hold myself back from crying with you… You miss me, and I’m here missing you just the same, maybe even more.
Tonight, more than ever, I know that even when we’re apart, we still carry each other in our hearts and in every thought.
Your dad ended the call quickly, but I still heard him gently explaining that in just a day and a half, you’d be back with Mommy again.
Soon, we’ll be together. And the day after you return, it’ll finally be the big day, your long-awaited, dream-come-true party. I can’t wait.
Come back soon, my little girl. Mommy is counting the seconds.
18/10 Chapter 461 Back where you belong
Today was the day you finally came back to me. I’d been anxious all day, counting the hours.
In the morning, I went to the hairdresser — the only one who actually knows how to curl my hair so it lasts the entire day. She’s expensive, but worth it. Luckily, today was quick since she didn’t have to dye it, just curl. Still, I left with my hair full of pins, which meant I’d have to sleep with them, which is super uncomfortable, and take them out right before the party.
Before getting there, I realized I didn’t have my car. I’d forgotten I’d lent it to your dad. So I had to take an Uber, which I hate. I mean, if you think about it, an Uber is just a paid ride from a stranger and ever since I was a kid, I’ve been told how dangerous that is. Everyone still says so. The only difference is that now you’re paying for it instead of someone doing you a favor. But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re getting into a stranger’s car, having no idea who they really are or what kind of person they might be. So yeah, I took my pepper spray and my little knife, sharp enough to make me feel safer. Being a woman, you can never be too careful.
In the end, the driver turned out to be nice. We chatted a bit, somehow we got to talking about my first boyfriend and the kind of music he liked, which happened to match the driver’s taste. It started when he asked what I wanted to listen to and I said I didn’t mind, that I was pretty eclectic.
Then the conversation shifted to how different the world feels now. I mentioned that my first boyfriend is gay now — or maybe bi, I’m not sure — and he said that finding good women these days is hard too, that the good ones are already married, or crazy, or single moms. I laughed. Little did he know, I’m a single mom myself.
Anyway, once my hair was done, I went back home. The hours dragged. My mom came over in the late afternoon — she wanted to be here when you arrived, to give you a kiss too. But you didn’t get here until around 7:30 p.m.
When your dad called to say he was pulling into the garage, it felt like forever before he actually came up. My mom couldn’t stand waiting any longer — she missed you too much — so she went downstairs to meet you. But I stayed upstairs. My hair was all pinned up and awful because of the hairstyle for tomorrow’s party, and there was no way I was getting in the elevator looking like that. So I waited a little longer.
And when those endless minutes finally passed and you stepped out of the elevator, I was already waiting by the door, unable to contain myself. The moment I saw you, I screamed, kissed you, threw my arms around you. We hugged and kissed over and over again, until our hearts felt like one—beating in perfect sync.
Our happiness was written all over our faces when we finally saw each other again.
After that, we played for a while. Your dad and grandma left, and to my surprise, you soon fell asleep. I thought it would take longer, I assumed you had napped in the car on the way back from the trip, though I didn’t even ask your dad about it.
Later, he texted me saying how happy he was to see us reunited. I was glad too — glad he could see how beautiful that moment was. And to think, it had only been two days apart.
Now, my little angel, tomorrow is your big day. I let you fall asleep before midnight because you’re still too young to understand that your birthday technically begins only after the clock strikes twelve, and besides, you needed the rest. Still, in my family, it’s always been a tradition to celebrate as soon as the clock turns, to start the birthday with laughter and joy right at midnight. You’ll have plenty of time to celebrate that way someday. For now, sleep well and gather your energy for your beautiful party tomorrow.
19/10 Chapter 462 B
I’ll break your birthday into three parts.
Part One:
Yesterday, your dad said he felt sad that he wouldn’t be here at midnight to wish you happy birthday. I told him not to worry, that I wasn’t planning to wait until midnight this time anyway. Your party would be during the day, and you needed to rest. So we agreed that after his morning run, he’d come straight here, try to pick up some balloons, and make pancakes for you.
Around 9:30, he woke me up and said everything was ready. I hadn’t even heard him arrive. He had done it all quietly slipped in, cooked, set everything up. When I came out of the bedroom, there were stuffed animals with balloons beside them, and on the table, pancakes, cheese bread, and a little cupcake with a candle. It was so sweet. Then we went to wake you up.
