Lottery plans

Getting rich may seem like the answer to all their problems to so many people but, at the same time, isn’t “getting somewhere” kind of what keeps us going?

For instance, at this point of my life, I am trying desperately to find a job that allows me to move to Montreal. If I were rich I’d just… go. Weird.

So, if that happened, what would be the shit I would still get up to do? Do I even know?

What moves me? Who in the Lord’s name am I?

When I was 15 I think I was that person. Well, not the rich person. I was the person who had a ton of free time to do the things she wanted to do and not get paid for it.

It got me thinking.

What a different person I would be if I only did what I wanted to do.

Like I did when I was 15, I would get up to draw.

I would most likely learn how to play the piano.

I would stay up late. I hate sleeping early so much, my college friends kept asking if I was on cocaine. The answer is no, by the way.

I would live in the most beautiful city in the world, or maybe in NY, in a small apartment not proportional to my wealth just because it would feel cozy.

Speaking of cozy, I would buy the house from home alone, make it look just like the movie and turn it to an orphanage so special that kids would feel welcome and safe there. I would also probably adopt them all, since I would be so rich.

And, at the end of the day, I would lie down with my children and watch classic disney cartoons… just like I am doing right now. Except, there would be a few less worries in my mind.

I should really play that lottery.

Today, I made a little drawing istead. It’s not much but it’s kind of a step torward the life I wanna live.

Lottery or no lottery, I’ll find a way to check the items on my list.

I’m still 10

I remember this one day, when I was 10 years old. It was hot and I was getting ready to go to school after lunch. My dad had made me beef and rice. It was so good, I can still taste it. But it was just another day, really. Still, it remember it vividly because when I was walking down the road I looked back and saw my dad waving at me from the window.

I cried.

Not because I was a brat and wanted things done my way. I cried because it hurt to leave him. I cried because I knew he didn’t want to say goodbye either.  I wanted to stay there and enjoy our lunch a little longer. I hated that I couldn’t be where I wanted to be and I knew that one day, all I would have left from him would be the memories. And they felt like so few.

He was crying too.

Twenty-five years passed and, this morning, when I left the house, my daughters asked me not to go. They cried too. They wanted to be with me; and I wanted to be with them. Play their little games, do their little puzzles. Nothing fancy. We’re not fancy.

I just didn’t wanna leave. Again. Inside, I am still that 10 year old girl. 

I promised them mommy would find a different job that would allow her to stay home a bit more. But, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t something I’m doing just because they cried. Kids cry (so, I’ve heard).  It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a long time as I can feel these steel structures sucking the life out of me – I might have mentioned this 1 or 120 times here.

I think I am smart enough to organize this life of mine as my single goal at life right now is to sit on my couch, look around, and wish for nothing to be different. I’ve got the major stuff figured out. But the puzzle is not complete yet.

I’m getting there.

I cannot talk about what happened in Florida yesterday. I just can’t handle this fucking world.

About being a parent

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

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

Yes, I am surprisingly mature.

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

Would they change? Definitely not.

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

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

First, I chose to just allow myself be angry.


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

16 candles

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

I also believe that the people who genuinely care about my children will always put them first, like I will;

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

I called. 3 times.

No one picked up the phone.

I texted.

All I got were rude immature answers back.

Wait… what?

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

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

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

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

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

Sorry, I can’t fix you. Not my job.

Late-late movie night, tonight!