Slow down

My desk in a snow day

I don’t like writing about how I felt when someone I loved died. The reason for that is I want to look back one day and be able to read my old blog posts without touching the memories that hurt. As if life had been amazing the whole time. I think this is why I love watching old movies so much. The movies I watched for the first time when I was kid, I mean. I don’t remember the context and I don’t remember what was going on in my home. It probably sucked. But for a moment, me, my mom and my dad were together, watching Eddie Murphy come to America for the first time and all I remember is how hard they were laughing at jokes I didn’t quite understand at the time.

Every movie sends me back to a moment in my life when I felt very safe, even though I probably wasn’t. Even though I probably have things 1000 times more figured out at this point of my life than my parents ever did, I still refer to childhood memories as my safe space. I worry that I give my children the very same sense of security so they can feel recharged and peaceful when they grow up every time they come back home, just like I do.

The movies slow me down, calm me down and help me think straight. Sometimes I just want to sit here and write about whatever it was that I watched last. But the truth is, people still died.

Letter to myself

I found a letter I wrote to myself 5 years ago. Apparently, I’ve been this dramatic for a very long time.

Dear future me,

Beyond all the crying, the screaming and them not doing what you tell them to, there’s a moment you visit from time to time as a parent. It doesn’t matter how tired you are, you cannot sleep. You don’t want to. Because you are holding your baby. Sleeping  in your sore, tired arms. Nothing in the world can make you let go.

The babies are there to remind you that everything is ok and that you’re the luckiest person in the world, because you are their parent.

You think far away thoughts like “I’m gonna miss you when you go off to college, little ones.” … because you know time flies. You’ve seen it happen before. You know you are gonna miss these babies holding your legs and stretching those little arms in your direction begging you to hold them. The little faces they make.

You know they won’t be doing that for long. When was the last time you hugged your parents and let time fly by? Do you even remember? I bet your mom misses her baby too.

In a couple years your arms won’t be so sore and you’ll get a lot more sleep… and you’ll miss these days. You’ll miss being the only person in the world your babies need to be happy.

You’ll miss having them home. Sleeping over your tummy.

I’m sorry I can’t freeze time for you, honey. I do not have the power to bring you back to this moment , years from now when you’re finally feeling this… but I can tell you one thing: Even though this moment, mid-night September 10, 2015 is gone, you are one lucky girl for having lived it.

All the best,

A younger you.

Living in the now

This picture is perfect.

Real photographers could criticize it enough, I am sure. But it is perfect, look:

This is a picture of my dad’s ultimate dream life. That’s him sitting on that chair. In the water, you can see my mom and her grandkids.

This is all my dad wants from life, he told me. He said, he just wants to sit at the beach and watch the kids grow.

What a great dream to have. So impressively achievable.

So, after we visited him in January, I decided to never let go of my dad again. Wherever the children go, he’d go. Watch them grow.

That was in January, though. We all know what happened next.

I feel like I am living in a Will Smith movie. It’s weird even writing the words “but then, the virus came”. Now, he is alone at the beach… and the 4 of us are here, quite desperate.

This pandemic made so many decisions feel urgent. Made us miss so many simple things.

As soon as we can, we are going to do all the things that we couldn’t do for so many months.

As soon as I can, I’m gonna sit at the beach with my dad.

Watch the kids grow. Never let go.

Me, Alanis and the books

It’s funny because I never met my grandfather. None of them, actually. Yet, I have inherited something very particular from each one of them.

My maternal grandfather loved books and alpino chocolate, just like I do. He was also a painter like me. He left me a collection of old books and paintings. Some of them made by him. I cherish them, deeply.

Now, my paternal grandfather gave my obsession for miniatures. And, when I say obsession, I quite possibly mean actual obsession, considering he had severe mental disorders. Oh, well, I guess I got more than one thing from him.

Today on pinterest I came across something that would certainly please him. Miniature places book shelf inserts!

They picture is not miine and the link will get you to the owner’s Etsy shop.

Part of me wants to live in those little scenarios. A large part.

Models are definitely something I loved about being an architect and, when combined with books, it is just so appealing to me, I can barely explain. – Although I am sure there is a very deep explanation.

Watching Alanis in her home library makes me happy. It gives me a good sense of direction and goal… I aim for a library like that. Which makes me very thankful for audiobooks. I can listen to them while I work since my eyes aren’t what they used to me and, specially if I am reading a biography, I love to listen to books that are being read by the author… I still get the actual book though. I need it.

Also, since I trust Alanis’s mentoring so much, I am tempted to read all the books she recommended in here:


Note to self: You gotta make this list.


As we waited for a vaccine, a cure or a sudden end of COVID19, my mom and I decided to watch a few feel-good movies from our past this weekend.

My kids were mostly sitting on the floor, playing with their legos through basically the 5 movies. And I thought, pandemic or no pandemic, life could never possibly be better than this. Sitting on my couch, watching old movies with my mom as my kids play. It is the dream, I tell you.

These were our picks in the actual order that we watched and I am not going to rate them because you can’t rate kid-friendly perfection!

Binge watching anything with coffee just has to be my favorite thing in life. Is that a profession?

Take care!


At some point I realized I just wanted to go home. Not to the perfect city, perfect country in a house with the perfect library. Not even the actual house I grew up in, just a place that felt safe and felt mine.

We moved 6 times in the past 5 years. 5 different cities, 2 very different countries. There was something about not being able to put my pictures up in the wall that deeply disturbed me. I worried about the kids, as I pointed out many times that I didn’t wanna move around much ’cause this can be disturbing for a child. Heck, it was disturbing for me as an adult as well.

When we moved last year, I cried. I didn’t want to do that anymore. No more moving. Just staying still. I wanted something at least slightly permanent.

So, I said it out loud. “The only way I am moving out of this house is if we ever buy a house of our own”.

It turns out I have magical powers.

We found a house that was small and cozy and painted in red and green… which reminded me of Christmas. There’s nothing safer than the stability of Christmas traditions. I did not change a thing when we moved in. I was just happy to be home.

I can barely wait for the memories we will build here.