01/10 Chapter 317: Letting it go
our dad finally came back from Barcelona, though I wasn’t home to see your reunion. I’d gone to a hair salon a bit far from home adding some blonde highlights for your upcoming birthday party. Last year, I waited until the day of the party to get my hair done, which was a mistake—I ended up stressed and rushing. This time, I planned it with more time, and it felt so much easier. Grandma took you to the apartment, and she said that while you were a bit shy at first, you gave him a hug after a moment. Unfortunately, she filmed the moment but accidentally recorded the floor, so I missed seeing it. It’s always nice to have him around, isn’t it? But now comes the hard part—facing the reality that we’re no longer together and navigating what comes next.
Deep down, you know, women are sentimental creatures, and I had a slight hope that after three weeks apart, he might have missed me too, not just you. But it was clear when he returned that his mind was fully made up about our separation. I’m not sure who he spoke to or what advice he received, but I felt a distinct difference in him.
Now it’s time to face this new reality. But watching a family unravel is a painful thing.
08/10 Chapter 318: Just when I'm almost letting it go
Last week, I received an invitation from your school for a parents' party at Adelina Buffet. Adelina is close to your grandparents' house, and I’d only been there once before, years ago, for a 15th birthday party with my ex-boyfriend Caique. The space is really cool, and what’s interesting is that this buffet was once a mansion, a real home where someone actually lived. Now it’s been turned into an event space.
I asked your dad if he wanted to go with me, and he was a bit hesitant, but eventually, he agreed. He reserved the tickets, which were free through the school’s website and only allowed two people, so we arranged for Pietra to watch you for the evening so we could go. Tayna and Rafinha arrived as well, so the four of you stayed together while we got ready for the party.
I chose an outfit that was somewhere between dressy and casual—a nice pink jumpsuit—because I wasn’t sure how people would be dressed, so I went with something in the middle. But when we got there, the air conditioning was so cold I was freezing little by little. Your dad was in pants and was already shivering, and I, with my bare legs, was feeling it even more.
At first, I didn’t feel the cold much, since I’m not usually sensitive to it—unless I’m trying to sleep. But that air conditioning just kept getting worse. The highlight of the night was making friends with Camila’s parents; Camila is your little friend from daycare. I know this because I’ve seen pictures of you two together, even one of you giving her a little kiss.
I recognized her dad from seeing him drop her off at school. They asked if they could sit at our table—maybe because they didn’t know anyone else, and there weren’t many seats left. We happily invited them to join us, and we all started chatting. It’s always great to chat with other parents of kids your age, sharing tips, stories, and advice. Camila is just two months younger than you.
Soon after, they started serving appetizers. I had a few little bites with cream cheese on top, but skipped the rest since they were raw meat and tuna, and I don’t eat those. Then the school’s presentation began, covering their bilingual program, the graduating elementary class trip to Miami, and other topics. It dragged on and started to feel monotonous, and I thought there might not be any more food. Just as I thought that, I noticed a server bringing out more trays, which lifted my spirits. But when they reached our table, they left just one tray for each couple, with six small snacks on each—so, three per person. Not a lot, especially considering how expensive this school is! And the snacks were good, really flavorful.
The event continued with more speeches and presentations until 9:30. Your dad was ready to leave, convinced there’d be no more food. I finally agreed since I was freezing, but I was really curious to see if they’d serve more. Later, when we chatted with Camila’s parents, they confirmed there was a dinner, and it must’ve been delicious since the buffet is so well-regarded. I didn’t even ask what was served to avoid feeling too disappointed about what we missed. If I find out there was dessert too, I’ll just have to laugh it off.
The funny thing is, they told us the dinner wasn’t served until 10:40. They couldn’t stay for it themselves since it was so late, and their babysitter was with Camila. So even if we had tried to hold out, your dad wouldn’t have waited that extra hour, maybe another half-hour at most. And with how cold it was, I don’t think I could’ve handled another hour anyway; by then, my legs were practically freezing.
In the end, we headed home, and you were still awake, which was a relief since I’d been worried about Pietra putting you to sleep. Even with your dad, you only sleep easily if it’s me, your grandma, or grandpa with you. So we ended up having something to eat at home, and honestly, it was refreshing just to get out for a bit. Your dad even mentioned that he enjoyed going out together, and I think that’s something we’ve really been missing. We’ve focused so much on being co-parents that we’ve lost touch with each other as a couple. Every time we do go out, which is rare, we actually enjoy each other’s company, have fun, and connect. But making time for ourselves as a couple has always been a struggle, not just after you were born. Even before, we often skipped outings because of tight finances. I really think that if we’d found a way to prioritize those moments, it would have eased some of the strain on our relationship.
Your dad liked Camila’s parents and suggested we invite them over for dinner sometime. It caught me off guard since he recently seemed so sure about wanting to separate. So why invite another couple over if he doesn’t plan on staying? Sometimes he seems like he doesn’t want to give up completely, after all he’s still at home. I also invited Camila’s family to your birthday party; it’ll be nice for you to have a friend you see every day at school to celebrate with you and join in the fun.
12/10 Chapter 319: Get me out of this loop
The days went by, and your father and I had a surprisingly good week together. We even watched some things together at night once you were asleep. But when the weekend came, and we went to your grandparents’ house, things quickly went off course.
I can’t even recall exactly what triggered the argument, but he suddenly stated he was completely certain about wanting a separation. So, in the heat of the moment, I told him to pack his things and leave as soon as we got back home. But I regretted saying that almost immediately, especially with your birthday coming up. I had put so much effort into making sure this would be a special day for you, and I wanted us both to be there to start the morning together and make you breakfast in bed. It’s your day, after all, and I can’t bear the thought of it being anything but special. This is the anniversary of when our world was blessed by your light, and it’s absolutely worth celebrating.
Afterward, when I asked him to stay just one more week, he accused me of messing with his feelings and said he didn’t even have enough money to leave. But how could he claim I was toying with him, knowing full well he was still in the house, making everything even more confusing? I mean, why would he be making plans with other couples—like when we met Camila’s parents at the school event? He even mentioned inviting them over for dinner sometime. How can he be thinking about hosting things together if he’s really decided to separate? This just makes it feel like he’s still unsure, like there’s a part of him that still wants us to be a family. And, honestly, that’s the part that really messes with someone’s emotions.
To really let it all out, I told him we should head down the ramp outside my parents' house. When we finally reached the bottom, I just erupted. I started shouting everything that had been choking me up inside. Tears poured down as I screamed, throwing my flip flop one way, the other flip flop another way, my glasses somewhere. I threw anything I could grab, needing to release all that rage and frustration somehow. And I’m not an aggressive person—I’d never hurt anyone. But on those rare occasions when my frustration peaks, I either throw things to the ground or even take it out on myself. But it’s rare… I think the only two people who’ve ever pushed me to that point are my sister and, now, your father.
When I broke down in tears, he came over and wrapped his arms around me. We stayed like that for a few minutes—me sobbing, and him just holding me. Everything had been building up, pressure mounting, until it all came spilling out. I told him it felt like he’d been toying with my emotions—still hesitating to move in, talking about inviting Camila’s parents over for dinner, while never quite taking that step. He admitted he wasn’t entirely sure he was ready to leave his own place yet; he was just seeing how things were going. He said the weekend had been tough for us, even though the week had gone well.
After crying and finding some comfort in his arms, we went back upstairs to my parents' place for a bit before heading home. It was my scheduled night to go live online, and he’d offered to help, even though I felt mentally exhausted and far from in the mood. Still, I had to keep my commitments. You were going to stay at your parents' house tonight while your dad helped me with the live stream.
As strange as it sounds, after all the tears and venting, things felt a bit calmer between us. Let’s see what this week has in store.
14/10 Chapter 320: Come light me up
Now, enough about stories just about me and your dad—let's talk about you! Let’s dive into some fun things about you.
This week, you’re totally obsessed with Stitch. One day, I put on a Stitch video on YouTube. At first, you weren’t interested and kept turning away, but once you gave it a chance—just like you do with food, where once you actually try something, you often end up liking it—you fell in love with Stitch. Lucky for you, I’d already bought some Stitch things: pajamas, onesies, shirts, even little shoes. Now, you only want to wear Stitch!
You've recently started wanting to pick out your own clothes and shoes, which was already giving me a bit of a headache. But now it’s all Stitch, all the time! And what surprised me most is that Stitch became the very first Disney movie you watched all the way through. We’d tried with other cartoons before, but you usually weren’t interested in sitting through them; you preferred YouTube musicals like Cocomelon, Bebe Finn, etc. But with Stitch, you sat down and watched the whole thing. I loved every moment—watching it snuggled up with you, laughing together. You kept grabbing my ears, which made us both giggle. I’ve always loved Lilo & Stitch, but unlike you, I’m more of a Lilo fan! Fun fact: Lilo & Stitch is the only movie I prefer in Brazilian Portuguese because Lilo’s voice is absolutely adorable in that version. In English, it just doesn’t have the same charm. It almost feels like she’s a different character entirely.
So right now, you’re all about Stitch and monkeys. When Marcela asked what she should get you for your birthday, I told her about your Stitch craze, and she said she’d get you a plush Stitch. I can’t wait to see your reaction!
And there’s another new favorite—believe it or not, it’s the color blue! But this one, I’m not sure is quite as healthy since you’ll insist on only sleeping with a blue pillowcase, a blue blanket, and wearing only blue clothes. And here’s the funny thing: the love for blue actually came before the love for Stitch, so maybe that’s why you’re drawn to him—because he’s blue (maybe?) Blue is also your dad and mine's favorite color, though mine is baby blue, the color of my 15th birthday dress and Cinderella’s dress, too. That’s my special blue.
You’re even reaching for random blue things, like a blue dough cutter from the kitchen, to take to bed with you.
You’ve become quite talkative lately, wanting to share everything, even though sometimes it’s hard for us to fully understand you. But you’re finding your voice and learning new words all the time. Soon, you’ll be stringing together more complete sentences. Watching you grow is such a joy—you’re the light of so many people’s lives, our daily happiness.
And I have to say, seeing you enjoy going to school again is such a relief, a joy that fills my heart. Watching you ask to go, getting pictures of you playing happily with your friends, just makes my heart swell with pride. I hope that when you move to a new school next year, you adapt just as quickly and love it just as much as this one.
16/10 Chapter 321: Stand your ground
After a chaotic weekend, we started the new week a bit unsettled, too. It's been a few days since I brought the cats here—Simba, Balu, and Dodó. You might notice all three are named after characters, not to mention Lilo and Oliver, who aren’t here with us either. You actually remind me a lot of my little sister with how much you love animals and wear your heart on your sleeve. My sister was always the animal lover, even back when I was more into Disney princess movies. She only cared about Disney movies with animals—Bambi, Dumbo, Dalmatians, The Jungle Book, and so on. But back then, she didn't quite know how to show her love for animals gently.
For instance, we once had a kitten named Pepe—our first cat, a Siamese that my dad brought home. My sister was so drawn to him that she’d often hold him too tightly, grab his tail, or even squeeze him a little too hard. It wasn't that she meant to hurt him; he was just so cute to her that she didn't know how to express her affection properly.Pepe stayed with us for quite a while. Then, one January, when we were spending the month in Caraguatatuba—something we did every year—my mom decided to bring him along to my grandma’s house. The drive was over 2:30hr to the coast, and it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing for him. On top of the long trip, he was crammed in the back seat with three kids, all about ten years old. So you can imagine: loud talking, bursts of laughter, even some yelling, and probably a bit too much petting from eager little hands trying to keep him “company.”
I know what that kind of stress does to a cat. Even on short trips, like the half-hour ride from my parents’ house to my apartment, Dodó would start meowing, panting with his mouth open—a classic sign of feline stress. So, picture Pepe enduring two and a half hours of noise, movement, and chaos. By the time we finally arrived, and I, as a little ten-year-old, went to scoop him up, missing him and ready to shower him with love, Pepe had reached his limit. He wriggled to get free, and in the process, accidentally scratched the side of my forehead, right by my left eye. It started bleeding heavily, and I had to be taken to the local hospital for stitches. I can’t remember if it was two or three stitches, but I do remember that one of them really hurt. That’s stuck with me.
I don’t know how the conversation went, but I know that after that incident, my parents decided to give Pepe away. Looking back, it seems so inhumane. It wasn’t fair to Pepe—he was only acting out of stress from a long and overwhelming journey. But my parents justified the decision by saying that my younger sister, Tayna, was always rough with him and that it was only a matter of time before something similar happened with her. She was only about seven, after all.
So, they talked to my great-aunt, who was still alive then—your great-grandma Sonia’s sister. She was more than happy to take him in. We were all somewhat relieved, knowing that Pepe would still be with family, and he’d have someone who genuinely loved animals and would give him the care and peace he deserved.
People often don’t realize it, but animals feel the impact of being abandoned or suddenly moved from place to place, just like we do. I honestly don’t remember exactly how I felt at the time, but knowing myself, I probably struggled with letting Pepe go. Looking back, I don’t think my parents made the best choice. To this day, I believe that welcoming a baby into the family doesn’t mean you need to give up your pets. Yet many people do just that, citing reasons like convenience or claiming the baby has allergies, and it’s sad. When you adopt an animal, you’re bringing them into your family. They become part of it, and as with any family member, you have to face whatever life throws at you together. Adopting a pet is taking on a responsibility to care for them, come what may. My parents agree now too that it wasn’t the right decision. You don’t just get rid of an animal like that. He never intended to hurt me.
But unfortunately, things only got worse for Pepe. Not only had he been abandoned by one family, but just when he had grown attached to my aunt, who genuinely loved him, she passed away from breast cancer. From her deathbed, she asked her husband, one of her final wishes, to look after Pepe. But my uncle, being the heartless person he is, completely ignored her. He was, and still is, a despicable man—likely even a true psychopath, someone who lacks empathy for anyone. If you can break a dying wish from the person you’ve spent your life with, there’s nothing good in you. And that’s without even touching on the darker sides of his character.
In the end, he not only ignored my aunt’s request but I heard a rumor that Pepe had died falling off the roof. Later, I learned that wasn’t true. Someone eventually told me that he’d been thrown out and died after being hit by a car. I don’t know if my aunt also asked her sons to care for him, but if she did, and they too didn’t honor that wish, it’s deeply sad. Even if you’re not an animal person, you could at least find someone to care for the pet of someone who meant so much to you.
So, Pepe was abandoned twice, and died such a tragic death. It breaks my heart to think that if my parents had acted differently from the start, he might have had a much longer and happier life. If you decide to take in a cat, a dog, or any creature that depends on you, think very carefully. This is a responsibility, and as an adult, it’s one you need to honor.
Coming back to your story—it's fascinating. Out of the three cats, you always went straight for Dodó, squeezing and cuddling him. Maybe it was because he was the one always nearby, lazy and sleepy as he was, rarely moving from his spot. But Dodó had been through a lot. When your dad, Zeus, and I found him in a gutter, his paw was infected with worms and had to be amputated the next day. He was already missing an eye, had part of his ear chewed off, and the tip of his tail was broken. It was clear he’d been mistreated, and he was terrified of people. It took over a year for him to trust us enough to accept petting, and more than two years for us to see him play even a little. Today, he’s the sweetest cat we have, but even now, he startles sometimes when we try to pet him, like Snowbell, who was also mistreated.
So, when you hug him, squeeze him, he interprets it as aggression, simply because you don’t know your own strength yet. You’re just a baby and don’t understand, and he doesn’t understand that you’re a baby, so he sees it as a threat. His only way to defend himself is by biting or swatting, and he’d often bat at you repeatedly. That would make you cry, and then your dad would tell me that sooner or later something more serious would happen, and that I’d have to return him to my sister because it was too risky. But I didn’t want to. Instead, I trimmed his nails, so if he scratched you, it wouldn’t be serious, just a light swat. Yet, because he kept swatting you, your dad kept pressuring me to send him back.
I’ve told you before—I don’t believe in getting rid of an animal just because there’s a problem. It’s our responsibility to work through it and, little by little, teach you how to treat him gently. Of course, there’s a risk. It could happen that he seriously scratches you, even near your eye, like what happened to me. But I wanted to make it work, and your dad didn’t. Now, I feel like since he saw me break down and tell him that I felt our family wouldn’t be complete without Dodó, he thinks he can use that to manipulate me. So if he tells me to give Dodó back, he expects me to go along or face him leaving. All this pressure made me break down in tears, to the point of stammering, telling him that if he wanted to leave, he could, but he wasn’t going to keep manipulating me into giving up my cat. And, well, that’s when we fought again.
I could give Dodó back to my sister and just keep Simba and Balu for now; they’re smaller and won’t hurt you. But I could also try being more patient, teaching you slowly. Yet, with your dad constantly pressuring me, it’s hard to hold that line. I do have the option to bring Dodó to my sister or parents’ place—something I used to do, rotating the cats between houses since we currently have seven. I missed them all, so one week I’d have a few with me, and the next, others. But what if Dodó weren’t part of this shared arrangement between me, my sister, and my parents? What would we do then—put him out on the street? Give him away? Is that fair? Would your dad be the type of person to easily give up an animal at the first sign of trouble? I honestly don’t think I could stay with someone who thinks that way, who would take such drastic action if we didn’t have the option of family help.
It’s a big “what if,” but I think we need to consider it. If we didn’t have Tayna or my mom to lean on, I’m pretty sure he’d be complaining. For him, rehoming Dodó, even just giving him to a friend, would be an option. But for me, that’s simply not something I’d consider—nor would my sister, or even my mom these days, who’s grown to love animals more after spending more time with them.
Your dad is wonderful in so many ways, but his parents don’t like animals, and they never had any pets when he was growing up. His first real experience with a pet was when he was in college. And what makes me sad is how he says that the cats aren’t “his,” as if they only belong to someone if they were raised together from kittenhood or picked out together. But that’s not true. By that logic, what about adopted children or teenagers? They come with their own histories, too, but we learn to love them. And love—whether for people or animals—can take time to grow. So why can’t it be the same with him and the cats?
I’ve been clear that my animals were part of my life before he came along, and that anyone new should add to my life, not take anything away.
17/10 Chapter 322: Meet me halfway
Today was a bit complicated, but I'll just share the important part since the rest of the day was pretty normal. Right before bedtime, you had already changed into your pajamas, and as usual, you wanted the cats to join you on the bed to sleep—not necessarily by your side, but just having them around, near your feet or anywhere on the bed. You asked me to bring Dodó to the bed. I did, but while I was folding your clothes and putting them in the closet, you went over to give him a hug and a kiss. However, as I mentioned before, Dodó still sees you as a bit of a threat for now. So, when you went to hug and kiss him, he gave you five quick slaps. When I looked at your face, I saw two scratches, really close to your eye—so close that it scared me. A little to the right, and it could’ve been your eye for real. I knew I'd have another problem with your dad, but this time, I was also a bit scared. So, to avoid more issues and scares, at least until you understand not to grab Dodó too tightly, I showed your dad and told him that the next day I’d ask my mom to come get him, even though it broke my heart.
What made me really sad was that you cried so much. In your little mind, you had just tried to show him love, and he slapped you. You couldn’t understand why you were hurt when all you wanted to do was love him. Sometimes you’re a little mischievous, and I know you squeeze too hard when you know it hurts, but this time it was pure love, and I felt sorry for you. But I also know Dodó isn’t to blame—he’s just reacting based on his experiences and instincts as an animal.
When I told your dad and said I would have to let Dodó go, he got really angry. He said that the argument we had yesterday was pointless, that I should’ve agreed with him from the start and avoided this situation today. He said it was obvious it would happen again. But he can’t see things from my perspective. He doesn’t understand that I was trying to make things work between you two. The next day, when it happened again, I thought, “Let’s give them some space until you're a little older." But instead of thinking, "Okay, problem solved, Dodó goes," your dad started saying that I was waiting for you to lose an eye before taking action. He said I should’ve returned Dodó the first or second time this happened and that he was right. He made me admit he was right, and that was that. Everything we had started trying to change and adjust for the sake of our relationship seemed to have fallen apart because of Dodó. He said this week was a test for me, and with Dodó, he questioned whether I was passing as a mother or failing by not listening to him. I don’t know how he’s measuring me, but I know in my heart that I was trying to make it work between you and my pet before taking the easy way out. It really saddens me that he can’t see it that way and that, instead of understanding what I was trying to do, he focused on this one issue with Dodó as the last straw.
It’s complicated when you have good intentions, but others can’t see that. Because deep down, you know you’re doing what feels right for you, even if the world might not understand. It wasn’t about wanting to argue or prove who was right or wrong. I love animals—I love my cats, I love my dogs—and I was honestly trying, with all my heart, to make it work because I enjoy Dodó’s company. Dodó is a needy cat; he craves attention, he needs affection. He’s learned to need these things, things he never had for many years. So, I wanted to show him love, to let him know that no one is going to abandon him or hurt him. And I know, little by little, you both would have become friends.
Of course, Dodó still swats at us when he gets scared, when we surprise him, or when something startles him. But it's not out of malice; it's just his way of defending himself. He only knew cruelty before he became our cat. So I know my heart was in the right place. I know I wasn’t being neglectful; I was truly trying to make things work.
But now, after so many attempts, this was becoming a recurring issue. I didn’t want to keep pushing for it because I knew it would only make your dad angrier, and that’s what I was trying to avoid. At the same time, though, I can’t give up on what I believe is right, on the things I love, and the things that were mine long before he came into my life. It’s a very complicated situation, and I just wish he had been a little more understanding.
18/10 Chapter 323: Let's get this party started
Your birthday party arrived on a beautiful day. But this time, I felt a bit strange. It’s hard to explain exactly, but I felt off the whole time.
The day started with me dropping you off at preschool, then heading to the hairdresser – the only one who knows how to keep my hair curly! After that, I got my nails done while your grandma picked you up from school so I could get ready. The day before, after everything with your dad and the little accident, I’d gone to the mall to find an outfit for the party. It took until the very last store, but I finally found a silver set that looked great. I spent nearly R$200 on it, but it was worth it.
Once I got back to the apartment, I changed, and your grandma did my makeup because, truthfully, I know nothing about it. All I’ve ever done in my life is line my lower lash line. But your grandma does a fantastic job – she knows I don’t like anything too heavy or dark, so she keeps it light, just the way I like it.
Even though we tried to stay ahead of things and get ready early, it always seems like something sets us back. Grandma was especially frustrated that I asked her to pick you up because she thought she’d be late – and she was, arriving about 20 minutes after the party started. She’d hoped to get there with us by 7:30 p.m.
We arrived around 7:40, and the venue had a great feel – spacious and well-lit. But I don’t know; I just couldn’t get myself excited. I’d noticed this feeling creeping in over the last few months. During your first birthday, I was so excited and full of anticipation. I’d gotten so worked up that I felt a little let down when things didn’t go perfectly, like when the decorations were delayed and we had to start photos and videos later than planned. I was worried about guests and whether they were being served well, tried to make sure I spoke with everyone, and even played a few games with your dad. I was really into it, even if it was a bit chaotic.
But this time, I wasn’t worried about party favors or any of those details. If it weren’t for my mom pushing me, I wouldn’t even have bothered with them. I wasn’t anxious or excited, and I can’t quite figure out why. If anything, I had more reason to feel the thrill – I paid for the party myself, almost everyone I invited came, and everything was set up when we arrived. Even more of my friends were there this time. I should have felt the usual rush of excitement, but it just wasn’t there.
Was it maturity? A change in energy? I wouldn’t call it a lack of enthusiasm. We went through so much last year and this one; we have a thousand reasons to celebrate, especially after that serious hospital stay in February. So I know it’s not that I’m unhappy because I am, and you make me feel complete. I just can’t explain what was going on with me. It was like I didn’t recognize myself, as if the anxious, excited part of me had been switched off for this event, even though I’ve always been like that – even for school trips.
But I saw everyone arriving, and even though I managed to catch up with a few friends, I barely got to talk to family. I didn’t get to eat some of the things I’d been looking forward to, either. I kept an eye on the food, and honestly, I ended up feeling frustrated – like with the tapioca guy, who only made one round, or the chicken skewers that I never got to try. These little things can be so disappointing, especially as a parent, because you spend so much on a party with all these promises from the venue, and then they don’t quite deliver. I’d already felt let down at your first party when they missed a couple of items from the menu, though the rest was fantastic. There was a constant flow of finger foods, with plenty of options to keep guests happy.
But this second time around, I felt really disappointed with the appetizers, the drinks, and the snacks. They did serve the snacks well, but that was about it. As for the sweets, I noticed they didn’t make many rounds, and some of the best treats barely showed up at all. Even the party pack they gave us was missing one of my favorite sweets. This is the thing about big parties – you spend all this money, and it never quite lives up to your expectations. I was so critical of the first party, but in hindsight, I see that it was much better food-wise. For space and activities, though, the second party definitely took the win. Now, how do you find a buffet that combines the best of both?
For your third birthday, I honestly don’t know if I’ll do a big kids’ party at a buffet. Sure, there are some big advantages. The kids genuinely have a great time – you had way more fun at your two-year-old party than at your first. You were happy, laughing, actually playing on the rides, eating, and enjoying yourself. At your first birthday, you were in a grumpy mood, not really understanding what was going on. So it’s heartwarming to see your child enjoying the party and playing with other kids. There were many more kids at this second party, too. I invited friends from the building, a classmate, and some of my friends with their kids, so there were a lot of little ones playing, which makes parents so happy.
Another great thing about hosting a party at a buffet is that you’re practically a guest yourself. You don’t have to worry about cleaning up or managing the setup; everything is already there for you and ready for the guests. You just arrive, enjoy some food if you can, collect the presents, and leave – it’s wonderful in that sense. Those are probably the biggest upsides to a buffet party. But like anything, there are downsides too. Sometimes they just don’t meet your expectations, there’s the high cost, the limited four-hour timeslot that flies by, and then you’re paying for it for months. There’s also the chance that some people will still find something to complain about, that guests will confirm and then cancel, and so on, and so on.
Of course, I was a bit disappointed that three of my friends confirmed but didn’t show up. In the end, though, I was actually thankful, because by the time we checked the guest list, there were already 87 people! If those friends had come with their families, we’d have gone over the limit, and I’d have had to pay extra. I was especially surprised Gabriela didn’t come with her little daughter, Clarice, who I was really hoping to meet in person. She didn’t send a message or say why she couldn’t make it, which did sting a little.
Monica, a friend and client, had said she’d be there no matter what, but later told me she couldn’t make it because she got off work late. How do you not know what time you get off work? Then there was Anna, who I invited mostly to make up the numbers. She confirmed during the week and said she’d stop by, even if it was just for a short time, since her boys go to bed early. But then, at the last minute, she said the kids weren’t feeling well—blah, blah, blah. It’s draining when people you care about don’t show you the same consideration. I guess that’s not specific to a buffet party, though; it’s a downside to any party, really.
Your dad, on the other hand, was in such a good mood with me that day. He was affectionate, hugging me, seemed happy to be there, and was thrilled to see Matheus again. Matheus and Marcela were back, and after more than a year, I got to catch up with Marcela. But I barely spoke to my friend Karina, and I didn’t get a real chance to talk to Nadia or Girleide. I don’t remember having a proper conversation with anyone, really, and I can’t even explain why. What was I doing the whole time? I don’t know; I just felt strange, like I wanted it all to be over.
Everyone enjoyed the risotto, though I found it a little plain. I’m such a fan of risotto that I tend to expect a lot, but for me, this one just felt like fancy rice. Still, the guests liked it, and they thought the whole risotto station was a nice touch. But the most important thing was that you, my love, enjoyed your day. Except for when we sang “Happy Birthday”—you burst into tears, just as you usually do at other people’s birthday songs. And since it was your day, with all the lights off and everyone’s attention on you, you were inconsolable. It broke my heart to see you so upset. But the moment the lights were back on and the noise stopped, you were happy and ready to play again.
This week, I was also planning for us to head straight to your grandparents’ house after the party since tomorrow is your actual birthday. I pictured all of us waking you up in the morning, singing, and starting your day with the people you love most: me, your dad, your grandparents, Rafinha... It seemed like the perfect way to kick off your birthday. But when I talked to your dad, he preferred that we start the day just the three of us, with a cozy morning together. He thought we could bring you breakfast in bed, just the two of us, then later head over to your grandparents. And, since I promised to listen more to him and be more mindful of the things he values, we agreed to do it that way. So we’ll make a nice breakfast, spend some quiet time together, and then, later in the afternoon, go visit your grandparents. But in the end, I understood what he meant, and we agreed to go with his plan.
After the birthday song, you kept having fun and took the chance to enjoy more sweets. Soon enough, most people started heading out, but quite a few stuck around. The cake was delicious, and I guess the atmosphere was too, because people seemed to forget they had to leave—even though the buffet only gives a 15-minute grace period! Eventually, the buffet started shutting things down, stopped serving, and one by one, everyone left—including us, with your grandpa’s car stuffed full of gifts to open the next day. That part is always wonderful. I remember so well how, after every party, our whole family would gather to open gifts. My mom would even film it—what a treat. We have videos from about two birthdays each, opening presents, and it’s so funny to watch. Seeing those old toys brings back such a lovely nostalgia.
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19/10 Chapter 324: Don't you bring me down today
Your birthday was nothing like I’d imagined. For starters, your dad woke up in an awful mood. I get it—nobody chooses when they’ll be grumpy. But it would’ve been nice if he’d made an effort to rein it in a bit, especially on the day I’d been looking forward to so much. At least while you’re young, I’m determined you won’t see Christmas and birthdays as just regular days, because they aren’t. I’ll do everything I can to make them feel magical.
Anyway, the day before, I ordered a healthy little carrot cupcake for you from the same lady who made your monthly celebration cakes. No chocolate or frosting—just something simple and tasty for a birthday breakfast, which I thought would keep your dad happy too. But Rosana surprised us by adding two extra banana cupcakes as a gift and even gave us a little chocolate candle in the shape of a “2” for the top. Naturally, I added the candle. I didn’t see any harm in it.To try to address it, I decided to sit down with my parents and have a serious talk—clear the air, understand both sides better. At first, the conversation went well. I shared everything that’s been weighing on me, explaining things from your dad’s perspective too. He’s not from here, after all. Even though he’s in Brazil, his way of thinking is shaped by different cultural norms, just as ours would be if we lived abroad in a stricter environment. While we talked, Grandma Sônia kept you and Rafinha entertained in the other room with TV so we wouldn’t be interrupted.
The first part of the conversation felt productive. My parents seemed to understand that some things needed to change, but they also brought up some important points your dad needed to hear—whether he agreed with them or not. Honestly, everyone in that room heard things they didn’t want to hear, but they were things that had to be said.
It stung when your dad kept emphasizing the issues with Dodo and the phone in the dark. My parents, especially my mom, defended me on the phone part, but with Dodo, my dad was more understanding of your dad’s point. They both feel that pets, no matter how much we love them, are not above people. My dad even said it might be time to let Dodo go. Thankfully, my mom jumped in, reminding him of how, years ago, our dog Achilles bit my sister’s head. She needed over 30 stitches, and they were terrified to tell my dad. Yet when they did, he reacted calmly, saying it was her fault for grabbing the dog. Not once did he suggest giving Achilles away. She pointed out that if it had been your dad in that situation, his reaction would’ve been much more extreme.
Even so, your dad doesn’t seem to understand my reasoning about Dodo or why I initially didn’t think it was right to send him back to my sister. He told me he’s been “analyzing” me and that my decisions about Dodo and the phone show I’m not changing. But how can anyone change in just one week? It feels like he’s saying, “One strike and you’re out,” as if he’s already at his limit and can’t see things clearly. My parents stepped in, saying change takes time—it’s a gradual process. They reminded him that you have to weigh the good and the bad. If someone makes 15 positive changes but three mistakes, you can’t only focus on the three flaws and ignore the rest.
Even though the first part of the conversation felt constructive, things fell apart afterward. As we wrapped up, people started to drift away, the discussion lost its momentum, and I went back to packing my things. Then your dad approached me, saying he wanted to show me something and asked me to keep an open mind. He pointed out how noisy the environment was.
After we wrapped up the first part of the conversation, my sister arrived with Rafael. Now, my sister is the kind of person who talks loudly—she practically shouts—and doesn’t know how to control the volume of her voice. She turned on the TV, blasting some show I didn’t even recognize, while you kids were running around, playing, shouting, sometimes crying, or throwing little tantrums—just being kids. Then your dad pointed to you crying and whining and said he felt you needed a calmer environment.
But seriously? You already have a calm environment with us all week long. This is just how it is here. People talk louder, the TV is on, and my sister is… well, herself. It’s your birthday week, for crying out loud. Sure, it’s fine to have peaceful days reading books and listening to classical music, but it’s also fine to have a weekend full of running around, splashing in water, shouting, and enjoying a bit of chaos. This isn’t your daily routine, and he just doesn’t seem to get that.
For me, that was the last straw. We had just finished a productive, reasonable conversation, and minutes later, he was complaining about something completely unrelated. To suggest you needed to be removed from this environment felt downright insulting to everyone in the house. This is how things are here. He doesn’t live here. You don’t live here. You’re not in this environment every day. But once in a while? Yes, you’ll experience this, because it’s part of your culture too. You’re Brazilian. You’re the granddaughter of grandparents who talk loudly and softly, and you’re growing up between two worlds. There’s no reason to criticize that or even bring it up—it was the wrong time and place.
So, I brought my parents back together to discuss this again, but this time, it wasn’t as pleasant as the first conversation. We talked about the noise, about his concerns, and even about how he thought I gave you too many sweets on your birthday. Thankfully, my parents defended me. What’s “too much” to him? A lollipop, a brigadeiro, and a tiny piece of chocolate cake? Let’s not forget that during the week, you don’t eat chocolate. I don’t give it to you—not to please him—but he doesn’t see that. Yet, on your birthday, you had three treats, and he turned it into a circus.
He heard a lot of hard truths he didn’t want to hear. My dad even pointed out that, at least from the outside, it seemed like this relationship mattered more to me than to him. They also agreed that he’s acting as if the only thing that matters in his life is you, leaving no room for me. I’ve told him this before, but he wouldn’t listen. Now, other people are noticing it too.
The conversation dragged on, and honestly, I was scared it would spiral out of control. I worried your grandpa might get angry and things could escalate. In the end, though, it just made your dad even angrier and left our relationship in worse shape than it was before. Now, it feels like separation is inevitable. It’s as if we’ve reached a point where we can’t tolerate each other anymore.
And while I know that’s not entirely true, things are just so out of order, so out of control, that it’s hard to see how we can fix it.
It might sound dramatic, but it’s true. Honestly, though, with how things had been going, it wasn’t a total shock. We had talked it over, back and forth, and decided that some time apart might be what we needed to figure things out. But talking about it is one thing; actually watching someone you care about, someone you have a child with, walk out the door with their bags is another.
I won’t lie—I couldn’t hold back the tears. I cried like a child who had just lost their favorite toy. The kind of crying where your voice shakes, and you can’t even get your words out. In moments like that, all the rules—being stoic, pretending you’re fine, holding it together—go out the window. Pain takes over, and it overflows through your tears. It’s almost as if your heart can’t bear the weight of it all, so your body finds a way to let some of it escape. Crying feels like a release, a physical way to let out what you can’t handle.
But let me give you a bit more context. The decision wasn’t sudden. We had already talked the night before and agreed that he’d move to an Airbnb the next morning. But the day started with us just getting caught up in taking care of you, playing with you, and pushing the moment further into the day. Eventually, after we dropped you off at school, he gave you a kiss goodbye, almost as if he knew it was a kind of farewell.
I had asked him to be gone by the time I got back home in the afternoon. I thought it would be easier to come back to an empty space rather than watch him walk out the door. But life doesn’t always go according to plan. I wrapped up my errands quicker than expected and got home earlier than I thought—and he was still there, packing.
That’s when things got tougher. We started talking, debating, going over the same things we’d been through before. It only made everything harder. Then, just as he was about to leave, my phone rang—it was my mom. She said she wanted to bring me something. I told her it wasn’t necessary and that she should just stay home and rest.
But, as if the universe wanted to add one last twist, right as your father was heading out the door, the doorbell rang. We both froze, looking at each other with that "Who could it be?" expression. And who was it? My mom.
When I opened the door, the air was already thick. He was in the kitchen, on the verge of leaving, and I was crying, emotions boiling over from everything we’d been discussing. Unfortunately, my mom bore the brunt of it. She walked in, startled by the sight of me in tears, and asked what was wrong. Instead of explaining, I snapped. I told her she shouldn’t have come, that I’d asked her to stay home. She stood there, confused, as I told her—practically yelled—that I didn’t want anyone witnessing this moment, your dad was leaving and that it was supposed to stay between him and me.
I’m pretty sure our neighbors heard me shout that your father was leaving. My mom, still trying to make sense of it all, said something about letting him go and not crying over it. But I was too overwhelmed to hear reason. She left upset—not because of my reaction but because she saw me like that, crying and heartbroken. And that made me feel even worse. It wasn’t her fault, and yet I’d made her part of this mess. She had no idea what was happening and just wanted to help.
After she left, your dad and I went back to debating. He mentioned again that the only way he saw our relationship working was if we moved away and started fresh—just the three of us. But by “moving,” he didn’t mean to another country or even just another city. He meant moving away from my parents, which hit me like a punch to the gut.
I can’t accept that. My parents are as much a part of me as you are. They raised me, shaped who I am, and love us both deeply. Asking me to leave them behind feels like a betrayal, like he’s dismissing everything they’ve done for us. Sure, we’ve had our disagreements—like how they spoil you a bit too much with cartoons and chocolates—but those things are nothing compared to the love and support they’ve given.
If he had come to me with a job offer in another city, asking if we could take a leap for a better future, I might have considered it. But leaving solely to put distance between us and my parents? That’s not a reason I can get behind. The thought of moving to the U.S. already weighs on me because it means being far from them. So leaving simply because of them? That’s unimaginable.
And let’s be real, he doesn’t even have a plan. He talks about dreams, but where’s the reality in them? No job lined up, no stable plan. If we were to move, I’d have to give up my work, my sales, my business—how would we survive? His idea is that your grandfather would keep covering expenses like school and health insurance, but now in another city. It’s easy to dream when someone else is footing the bill.
So, here we are. A gray day that mirrors the heaviness in my heart. A day of hard truths and even harder choices.
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