And what is life?

toilet paper and WC

Illustration: Vyacheslav Shilov


Hope Silver (

– Life is a gift, – said the wrapping paper.

– Life is imagination, – pronounced the writing paper, confidently.

– Life is a rainbow! – exclaimed the colored paper.

– Life is current events, – reported the newspaper.

– Life is s[…], – concluded the toilet paper, gloomily.

(SILVER, Hope / Nadezhda Serebrennikova. Curious Things. Berkeley – CA-USA, 2015).


Different points of view, different perceptions, different conclusions. Different roles in life. Hope prevails, however. Nothing, no matter how determinist it seems to be, is definitive.

My daughter offered a new end to the story and to the melancholic toilet paper. Run out of other stuff, she filled with pieces of toilet paper the cute toys she was crocheting.

The lesson applies to the writing paper and the colored one, and is useful to the wrapping paper e the newspaper, after the present has been opened and the news has been read:

Life – with art – is fulfillment.

Crocheted unicorn and donut

An unicorn and a donut made of wool by my little girl


You can also see:

The origami angel

From daughter to mother

This post in Portuguese: E a vida, o que é?


The little strategist

“Parents trying to elicit good behavior from children must become amateur strategists (the children are the pros).”

(DIXIT, Avinash K. & NALEBUFF, Barry J. “Thinking strategically”.)

The phrase above is in the preface of a technical book about Game Theory, which intends to teach the principles of strategy reasoning. The authors are wise when they are able to find, in children, the reasoning that we end losing and having to re-learn after being adults. Mainly when we become parents.

One day I went back home and received from my husband a so-so “good evening”. I soon asked what was going on, and he said to me, annoyed:

“I bought a new videogame. I spent a lot of time choosing. I was sure it would be a complete success among the kids, until I inserted the disc inside the device. Only 15 minutes past, and they were already screaming and fighting in the room. I didn’t preach, I didn’t do anything: I just turned off the device and prohibited them from playing for one week.”

In the blink of an eye, I mapped the “atmosphere” which had been installed. The sadness of a father who brings a present hoping for union and seeing the opposite. Adding to my delusion of… Gee, why can’t they play nice? In the room, the little three all blue. The oldest one, writing in a notebook, a kind of diary, feeling so wronged. The fight had begun because he was – under the pretext of teaching the youngest brother how to play – taking off the controller from his hand all the time; the youngest didn’t want to accept “interferences” and then TOOF!! beat the controller on his brother’s head. My daughter was even more frustrated, because she hadn’t taken part in the confusion and was being like so. And the youngest was letting the tears drop with no sound.

My husband said again:

“I didn’t do anything. I just turned off the game.”

This kind of silent action from the parents weighs more than a scolding, you know? It’s when the children realize that they provoked something more serious. I tried to pacify and also give to Caesar what was Caesar’s. With the father’s “OK”, I released the girl from the prohibition for one week. I praised the oldest boy because he just wanted to help, but also asked for patience. To the youngest son, I said that nothing could justify hurting anybody, much less if the person was his brother, even worse because he was trying to teach him. I saw he regretted it, but I couldn’t leave it be, even for the sake of justice.

Later, I saw that he was still shedding tears and, that time, he was dedicating himself to make a drawing (since he didn’t know how to write).

See the drawing:

crying stick figure

When I saw it, I couldn’t resist; I squeezed him in my arms and covered him with kisses. I covered all three with kisses. I asked the little boy to apologize to both his brother and sister, and his father too, what he did with a wet face, and also promised that it wouldn’t happen again (uh-huh).

Then, he brought me another drawing:

smiling stick figure

Comparing the two drawings, it’s possible to notice the spirit of each one; the first of them made in brown crayon, sad, and the second in orange, happy.

Some days later, the girl was playing in the computer, and the little boy began to annoy her, wanting to play too.

Aaaaaaah, the usual confusion…

“Spending my beauty” and all of the daily artifices, typical of a career in Law, to be a judge, a juror, a lawyer and a conciliator, I said to him he wasn’t right and must wait until she left.

It didn’t take 15 seconds, and the boy came to me with one more drawing of a crying-stick-figure. But, that time, it didn’t correspond to the funny and smart smile of who had drawn…

Three years old. Professional strategist.


You can also see:

The tooth fairy

School lunch

Are your kids as mine?

This post in Portuguese: O pequeno estrategista

Things that only those who have three (or more) kids know

Only those who have three (or more) kids…

… brush, at least, 32 (yours) + 20 + 20 + 20 (92!) teeth, three times a day;

… cut 80 nails every week;

… hold the hands of two kids to cross the street and ask one of them to hold the hand of the third kid – something that they never accept;

… have to take two taxicabs to carry the whole family;

… buy weekly, at the supermarket, what the others buy monthly;

… realize, as unviable, any carpooling – unless both you and your neighbor have a minibus;

… need two sofas for watching TV;

… in travels, must book two rooms at the hotel, after the youngest kid is 3. And thank God when the hotel has combined rooms;

… have to plan a big logistic operation when traveling with them. And, if it is a trip only for mom and dad, have to leave a big logistic operation for the heroes who will stay with the kids;

… ought to manage three homeworks, three schedules, three exams each bimester, three school supplies, three report cards. And still have to attend three parent teacher meetings at the school. However, also deserve a little discount on the school payments of the youngest kid;

… realize that they are the masters of confusion, in endless combinations: the oldest one x the youngest ones; the youngest one x the oldest ones; the oldest one + the youngest one x the middle one; boys x girls; all x all…

…earn three cute gifts, made by them, and watch three shows for Mother’s Day every year (and cry in all of them);

… find out that 3 is the minimum ideal number for any play: hide-and-seek, tag, games, etc!

… find out that, now, they are the majority at home…

… hear: “Are you a mother of three? You are…” (complete the phrase):

(   ) in high spirit

(   ) encouraged

(   ) busy

(   ) determined

(   ) inconsequent

(   ) a warrior

(   ) mature

(   ) lucky

(   ) a ninja

(   ) admirable

(   ) happy

(   ) crazy

(   ) all of the above

And still there are those who ask: “When does the fourth kid come????”

The truth is: people are wrong when they think of applying economies of scale techniques when the matter is children. It’s impossible. Kids need (and we do, too) individual real time. Chronological time.

People are wrong when they think of a mere multiplication by three. I believe that we have to raise it to the third power:

  • Challenges cubed;
  • Responsibilities cubed;
  • Opportunities for growth cubed;
  • Love cubed – this is really good!!!

drawing with a father, a mother and three children


You can also see:

Are your kids as mine?

Is your baby as mine?

School Lunch

It was so cute when they… yet I miss…

This post in Portuguese: Coisas que só quem tem três filhos (ou mais) sabe o que são

School Lunch

jack and the beanstalk

Len Ebert / Picturebook

I was picking my three children up at school. Then, they started having the following conversation, on the back seat of the car:

1. “When I grow up, I wanna be a restaurant.”

2. “You cannot be a restaurant. A restaurant is not a living thing. Living things are people, animals, plants…”

1. “Ok, then I wanna be a tree.”

2. “You look like a bean, that’s it!”

1. “So, I’m gonna grow up to the sky!”

3. “The bean plant cannot reach the sky.”

1. “Yes, it does! The bean plant of Jack and the Beanstalk did!”

3. “It’s a made-up story by the Europeans. They like that kind of tale.”

2. “Things like giant kingdoms don’t exist. The sky is something sacred, Mommy told me.”

1. “You mean, did Jack of the Beanstalk meet God?”

And me driving the car and thinking to myself: what did they put in these kids’ food at school????


You can also see:

Are your kids as mine?

The Tooth Fairy

It was so cute when they…yet I miss…

This post in Portuguese: Merenda

It was so cute when they… yet I miss…

It was so cute when they…

… yet I miss…

… started grabbing their little pillows, saying good night and going to bed by themselves… … seeing them with “combed” squeezed eyes until sleeping in my arms.
… learned how to take a bath by themselves… …wrapping them with a towel, all perfumed and fresh.
… learned how to read… … when they would invent the stories only by looking the images.
… started to wake up and play, waiting for us to get up… … when they would go tiptoeing to call us in our bedroom.
… were promoted to the advanced swimming class… … when they did the baby swimming class and we would go with them in the pool.
… started using the first little underclothes… … (A LOT!!!) the diapers when they sprinkle the whole bathroom except the toilet (boys), or when we are out and they ask to poop, and the public WC is the dreaded mess of the eeew of the yuck.

You can also see:

Are your kids as mine?

Is your baby as mine?

This post in Portuguese: Achei lindo quando… mas sinto falta de…

The World’s best play

Do you remember when you un-learned to play? And now, as a parent with children, what to do? This post is about that.

I can consider myself a lucky person because I played a lot. Not only with typical “girl things”, like dolls, role-playing house or school, but also riding a bike, playing soccer, marbles and all kind of games: hide-and-seek, tag, cops and robbers, capture-the-flag, dodgeball and so on.

When I was home, I would create “movies” with dolls. My brothers would start playing and suddenly there they were, hypnotized, watching me playing. Sometimes, the stories took days, with many “chapters”, in enchanted kingdoms, lost forests, parallel worlds or the Mushroom Family’s quotidian.

brazilian toy happy world

When I was 15, I already had a boyfriend. Although I still kept playing with dolls. I would promote Suzi (the Brazilian version of Barbie) fashion contests, those were very competitive among brothers and neighbors. Hilarious recordings with special sound effects (sea waves using the out of air TV; horse trotting on shoe boxes). Or theater plays with cousins. I meant rest for the mothers, mesmerizing all kids, for hours. People used to say: “how good she is with children!”

brazilian doll susi

When I would go to my cousin’s home, who was 1 year older than me, I’d notice she would tidy up the doll house with all furniture, but after that she wouldn’t be in the mood for playing. Later, it happened to me: I loved to organize the scenarios, the characters, but the “movies” didn’t flow anymore.

Time went by. My children were born. I have even been trying to recreate the old plays, but it was in vain. I struggled to find where and when I lost my original spontaneity and enthusiasm. Perhaps it’s because now the stories have been happening in reality: my real home, my profession, my family. I wasn’t “good with children”. Actually, I WAS a child. Now, I’ve been playing being a grown-up, and the act of fantasizing lost its fun a little.

I found out other things. If I want to play with my kids, I choose toy blocks, Lego or wood building bricks, because of my sense of organization. Or table games like domino or memory, to enjoy together and not to only guide the play.

There’s a play, however, which is invincible in my preference: hair-dresser. I divide hair locks equally among the interested kids, spread dozens of hair elastic bands, clips and ribbons, combs and hair brushes and let them invent the coiffure they want. Justice be made, this idea wasn’t mine. They love it. Me too. I deal with a pull here, a stuck ribbon there, but I keep quiet, just enjoying the pampering, sometimes I even have a nap.

It’s also useful during boring-waiting-situations, like at the airport or the doctor’s office. I become a big toy and, even without the ribbons, they spend hours combing, curling, braiding and separating the locks, entertained. I even saw children from other families wanting to play, too.

You can call me a non-imaginative, lazy person, who is misleading my innocent children. I propose a challenge, though. Just try it. Afterwards, those who don’t like those rapid little fingers massaging your head and combing your hair, cast the first hair brush! hahaha

Marusia smiling

Creation by my little hair-stylists!


You can also see:

The Tooth Fairy

Only mothers are happy – Marusia speaks

This post in Portuguese: A brincadeira mais gostosa do mundo

A short and bald guy – Marusia speaks

You had never imagined that the greatest love of your life would be a short and bald guy.” I didn’t like this wordplay. It’s not because I don’t have a “sense of humor”. I just think the ad is not funny.

I am not talking about “politically correct” things, that are, by the way, hypocrisy or, at least, a bore, to me. I’m talking about the perpetuating of some prejudices only to not “miss an opportunity to joke”.

To avoid somebody saying I’m grumpy, I’m going to transcribe a tweet I saw, also about babies and baldness – that’s really good:

Isabelly (5 years old), with her vast and curly hair,  observed the photos taken when she was a baby, virtually bald, and shoot: “Mom, was I born man?”


You can also see:

Love is…

This post in Portuguese: Baixinho e careca – Marusia fala

Love is…

Visited site:


Who said that the models of perfection are only related to mothers? Fathers also have to carry them…

love is birth

Love is… staying beside her while the baby is being born. (Kim Casali)

Love is newborn

Love is… holding the new-born carefully. (Kim Casali)

love is newborn and father

Love is… believing that the first son takes after the father. (Kim Casali)

love is crying

Love is… getting up when the baby cries. (Kim Casali)

love is pride

Love is… being proud of your child. (Kim Casali)

love is playing

Love is… letting the kid play and jump on your belly early in the morning. (Kim Casali)

love is happiness

Love is… sharing the happiness that the baby brings. (Kim Casali)

love is diapers

Love is… changing diapers and… washing them. (Kim Casali)

love is difficulty

Love is… saying “our kid”, even when he/she is too difficult. (Kim Casali)

love is... jealousy

Love is… not being jealous when she pays attention to the children. (Kim Casali)

love is breakfast

Love is… making breakfast while she prepares the children to go out.

love is rest

Love is… tidying up the house for mommy to rest. (Kim Casali)

love is beauty

Love is… saying she is beautiful even when she is a mess. (Kim Casali)

love is flirting

Love is… flirting with your wife even after the sixth child. (Kim Casali)

Free translation of the texts from the “Amar é…” sticker album, published in 1980 in Brazil.

In 1980, Abril Publishing (Brazil) launched the first version of the “Amar é…” sticker album (Love is… – copyright: United Feature Syndicate). It was a huge success.

The naked couple was created by the New Zealander artist Kim Grove Casali. They illustrated the love notes Kim sent to her boyfriend (later her husband) Robert Casali, in the Sixties. In the Seventies, the drawings got a permanent space in the Los Angeles Time newspaper and conquered the world, shown in cartoons, cards and stickers.

I collected the stickers of the “Love is…” album. I was 8. I couldn’t complete it, but I have kept it.

Today, I found a curious thing. When children appear on the stickers, in most cases the message is addressed to the father: changing (and washing) diapers, getting up at night, playing… If we consider that the cards are from the 1960’s, Kim was a revolutionary woman!!! At the same time, a realist one: the father in the cartoons doesn’t deny he is annoyed with some of the new chores! hahaha



You can also see:

Are your kids as mine?

This post in Portuguese: Amar é…



Are your kids as mine?

Do they…

… become other people (very impatient people, by the way) when they are sleepy?

… fight to press the elevator button?

… claim the same place on the back seat of the car?

… get instantaneously interested in an once forgotten toy only because another child got interested in it?

… watch Toy Story on TV again, in spite of they have already watched it more than 50 times on DVD? (well, I do the same…)

… finish having lunch and want to stand up from their chairs to run around the restaurant?

… slide their hands on all handrails, walls, fences, shop windows and similar things they find?

… get flurried the most exactly when we are late the most?

… get agitated the most exactly when we are tired the most?

… get stubborn the most exactly when we are impatient the most?

… get very quiet sometimes, and soon we wonder if they are up to something? And actually, they are only preparing a cute surprise, like a drawing or a beautiful little card?

… get unbelievably cute when they are sleeping?

… grow up faster than the needed time for us to enjoy each phase?

Are you as I am?

Are you a mom who drools over them???


You can also see:

Is you baby as mine?

To my dear moms-to-be

The Tooth Fairy

This post in Portuguese: São só os meus?…

Is your baby as mine?

A post of the series “Is it mine only?”, remembering my babies, as a homage to my dear sisters. And, to my friends Priya and Lesley, a list with some wonders that you are about to feel.

Does your baby…

… have a velvet skin?

… have a nap after nursing and smile with satisfaction?

… close the little hands so tight all the time, that taking off the threads they kept (as souvenir from every piece of clothing they have grabbled) becomes a delight?

…, when changing diapers, straighten the legs and then quickly pull them back, as if they had a spring?

… poop “subtotal” only and do the rest exactly when you take the diaper off? (you can wait any amount of time – the baby calculates the exact moment…)

… hate to change the T-shirt, mainly when the head goes through the collar?

… have a normal belly button (something that was a worry before the birth)?

… make a little noise (“goya, goya, goya”), when sucking the breast / his/her hand / pacifier / baby bottle / teething ring?

… spend more time before burping, after early-morning feedings?

… love mobiles?

… sleep instantaneously with the car movement?

… love to play “where’s the baby?”?

… become another person (a very cute person, by the way) after a bath: relaxed, cool and perfumed? (Before putting the socks, it’s so delightful kissing the little toes, they look like peanuts!)

…, when you arrive home, receive you with a beautiful smile and throw the arms for you to hold him/her?

… in your lap, hang the arms on your shoulder, or grab your clothes?

…, upon seeing an unknown person, bury the head on your shoulders, shyly?

… change totally the standard behavior every time you think you’ve already “got the hang of it”?

 Are you as I am?

Do you…

… see yourself standing up, alone, shifting your body weight from left to right, as if the baby was in your lap (force of habit or “auto-rocking”…)?…

baby shoes

Little baby shoes… or jewel cases?

And you? What would you include in this list?


You can also see:

To my dear moms-to-be

This post in Portuguese: É o só o meu, ou  seu bebê também…

To my dear moms-to-be

My sister is expecting her third child, happily.

As a homage to her and to my seven coworker friends who are pregnant or have just had their babies (think about the biggest possible demographic density in a same sector!), that’s the first post of the series “Is it mine only?” for moms-to-be.

Did it happen only with me, or with you too?


… you do a home pregnancy test before the HCG-based test?

… your belly become a public thing – everyone wanted to touch it?

… you answer 15876432 times: if it was your first kid; what was the baby’s gender; if the baby already had a name and what it was; how many months you had been pregnant and when the birth would occur? (I loved all of those questions!)

… everybody have a recipe or a tip to give to you (some of them contradictory suggestions)?

… feel sick a lot and, in those moments, you weren’t in the mood for anything?

… you say (or even think) at least once: “Hi, baby, I love you so much, and it’s not your fault… but mommy is really messy”?

… you, in the beginning, get shy when going to the preferential queues, but afterwards you went proudly?

… you love listening to the amplified sound of the baby’s heart in the obstetrician’s office?

… you feel the baby hiccupping inside your womb, mainly after you ate?

… you pee “softly”?

… the day of an ultrasound day feel like pure expectation? Did you record everything in a DVD, even knowing you would never watch it again, after the birth?

… your jaw drop with the number of details pointed by the doctor during the ultrasound exam?

… you have fun when the baby moved?

… you get apprehensive when the baby moved a lot?

… you get apprehensive when the baby was quiet a lot?

… your belly-button get flat?

… you get surprised by the colostrum in your bra when you were seven months pregnant?

… you feel, in the third trimester, “electrical shocks” in your groin, strong enough for you to bend your knees?

… you no longer manage to tie your shoelaces in the last week of pregnancy?

… you always think the baby would be born before the prediction?

… you get startled in thinking you were in labor and it was only… gas?

… you feel the great mystery of having a person living inside of you?

… you get amazed by looking like a Volkswagen beetle?

Image editing: Marusia. Photos: Bjearwicke e Ale_Paiva - Stock Xchng

And you? What would you include in this list?


You can also see:

This post in Portuguese, originally published on February 26th 2011: Para as gravidinhas

The Tooth Fairy

Visited site: Katmary Gallery – Flickr


Teeth replacement is really an interesting phase in childhood. Before the loss of the first milk tooth, the child gets a little apprehensive. They don’t know when it will occur, if the loss will hurt, if the eruption of the permanent tooth will also hurt and so on. In order to ease the process, I think, they invented the Tooth Fairy story, as a little extra incentive.

Image: Katmary / Flickr

I, particularly, only learned about this story a long time after I had grown up; there was no such fantasy tradition as this, in my family. But I thought this approach was nice and decided to use this strategy with my kids.

Teeth replacement has been calm here at home. My children think the loose tooth is cool, they get happy with the Fairy’s monetary reward. But they grow up, don’t they? Then, they start suspecting the stories.

Once, my first-born son (at that time, he was six years old), asked me:

“Mom, does the Tooth Fairy really exist?”


“Because I want to know if she is true or if she is invented.”

I thought, thought, Gee, if I say she does not exist, I pass off as a liar, don’t I? And what’s the problem with one more fantasy? And if he, knowing the truth, ends up destroying the fantasy of his youngest brothers? I solved the question with this:

“Do you want her to exist?”

“I’m not sure, I think I do.”

“Do you want her to exist?” – I insisted.

“I do.”

“So, done: she exists for you, and that’s what matters.”

Image: Katmary / Flickr

Both of us, he and I, were glad with the resolution.

Some days later, one of his foreteeth fell off. He left it under his pillow, as usual, expecting the Fairy’s coming. In the next day, with the tooth in his hand, he said to me:

“Look, Mom, the sheets got in the way of the Fairy.”

“What do you mean?…”

“The sheets are white, Mommy, like the tooth. The Fairy didn’t see the tooth, therefore she didn’t take it and didn’t leave me a coin.”

I looked with “those eyes” to the father, the logistic responsible for leaving the coin (that he had clearly forgotten). He was laughing. I agreed with my son:

“You’re right, let’s leave it again, that Fairy is a little shortsighted.”

In the next morning, the child came again:

“Hey, Mommy, is a broken tooth worth less?”


“It is, my tooth was a little broken and this must be the reason why the Fairy, instead of giving me $1, gave me 25 cents…”

Of course somebody was laughing a lot in the room beside ours, who justified to me, later: “I didn’t have another coin in my wallet…”

Image: Katmary / Flickr

(I saw a tweet with a joke, saying that the Tooth Fairy teaches children, in a mercenary way, to sell human body parts, which is forbidden by law hahahahahaha!)

With this episode, I saw only gains:

I realized how clever my son is: doing mathematical calculations, applying financial education fundaments, practicing logical reasoning. The most important, however, was seeing him developing the fantasy, getting highly plausible reasons in order to keep it alive.

Fantasy forever! And, we, grown-up people, are the ones who need it more!

(My kids, up until now, still believe in the Tooth Fairy).

Image: Katmary / Flickr

You can also see: this post in Portuguese: A Fada dos Dentes

Because we are mammals – Marusia speaks

Before being a mother, I used to ask myself about the need of making advertising campaigns to encourage breastfeeding. Well, if it’s so super-duper-hyper-ultra-mega good, the perfect food, that is already warm, ready and sterilized, with all the nutrients and antibodies, free, and it also strengthens the mother-baby connection, helps one to get thinner and lots more, who wouldn’t want to breastfeed?

I got all of the answers when I tried to breastfeed my oldest son for the first time after his birth, and he bit me WITH REAL CRAVING. For me, it was succeeded by fever, sore nipples, fissures, shells, banana peels, naked sunbathing, massages, expressing by hand and a mastitis. After 8 + 10 + 11 (3 kids, remember?) months breastfeeding (being 5 + 5 + 5 exclusively, because my “cuties” wouldn’t accept anything else), I think I’m schooled enough to confirm what my sister used to say: “after the first 15 days, it starts to be good.”

It’s really good, but it’s HARD. I don’t agree with any radicalism. And I also think that we should receive an incentive, as the promotion of Parmalat gave: breastfeed and earn a plush mammal. Better yet: earn a cruise to the Caribbeans.

Dolphin in the Caribbeans!


You can also see:

Because we are mammals

This post in Portuguese: Porque nós somos mamíferos – Marusia fala

The wisdom that can only be acquired at 2 years old

Free translation of the chronicle published on October 11th 2009, in “Revista do Correio” magazine, Brazil, written by Maria Paula

A few months ago, I received a text written by Rodrigo Leão, a dear friend who was a VJ on MTV with me. Nowadays, he’s an advertising professional, a writer and a father! As soon as I read it, I thought of offering this space in order to publish it on Children’s Day [celebrated on October 12th in Brazil], as a homage to the kids that exist inside of me and inside of you!

Here’s the text:

A very crazy guy lives in my house with me and my wife. He’s 2 years old and keeps saying to everybody that he is my son. He’s always happy. Pretty happy. So much happy that I decided to adopt his habits and behaviors. I have prepared a list with the things I intend to follow with discipline and rigor in order to be much happier:

  1. Whenever possible, run naked all around the house shouting: I’m naked! Yaaaaaaaaaay!
  2. Never lose the chance of giving a little kiss or a hug to anybody who might be moping around.
  3. Don’t be afraid of starting a conversation with an interesting person. Point to the sky and say: “Look! A big plane!” Continue talking naturally.
  4. Take a nap after lunch wherever you are (note: except when you are driving).
  5. Draw with your finger on the bathroom box, covered by the steam. After the conclusion of each drawing, or even just leaving the mark of your hand, say: Yaaaaaaaaay!
  6. Do somersaults. At least, three a week. Say: “ Yaaaaaaay!” after each revolution.
  7. Bounce on the bed. But not near the edge. Say repeatedly: “Yaaay! Yaaaaaay – Yaaaaaaaaay!”
  8. Lie through your teeth a lot. But never for your own cause.
  9. Invite everybody for everything: “Let’s lay down on the floor, guys?” “Let’s drink fruit juice, guys?” “Let’s sleep, guys?”
  10. Wake up very early and scream continuously, from the top of your lungs. Stop only when somebody comes to hug you.
  11. Be afraid of your food.
  12. Believe in alternative versions of things. For example: that a thunder can perfectly be a giant flying elephant breaking wind.
  13. Always say “Thanks” and “Please”, even out of context.
  14. Use the internet to make a videoconference with your grandparents, and during that, dance, run, do somersaults and identify interesting parts of your body, like the nose and the butt.
  15. Show your foot to the guests. Look at the extremity with attention and full of curiosity and comment: “Look… the foot.” After a few seconds of respectful silence, suggest a guest to show his or her foot to you.
  16. Invite your mother to go sightseeing when she is least expecting.
  17. Find hidden shapes in things: a toast looks like a heart, a folded napkin looks like a duck or a glove looks like a horse. Say “Yaaaaaaay!” every time it happens.
  18. When you do something funny that everybody likes, repeat it.
  19. Cry fast, and forget the reason why you cried even faster.
  20. Be proud of things that you can do by yourself, but never be ashamed of asking somebody you love for help.


You can also see:

This post in Portuguese: A sabedoria que só se conquista aos dois anos