<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863</id><updated>2024-10-04T21:58:31.749-04:00</updated><category term="immigration"/><category term="USCIS"/><category term="citizenship"/><title type="text">Portiglish o(r) Engluese</title><subtitle type="html"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/" rel="alternate" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25" rel="next" type="application/atom+xml"/><author><name>Paige</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01143364993862295434</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="32" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX0T_QAqobV4f1W4-S98LPn5LMUjSjfwBqrVp_a3KbcARXjQZwUwzId4yFMU63SFEe5RM0aRGndyfy2pSFFJlIFjq74n57CsZ7DEBSR14LE6Qo6opOn52HNLjBV6XwWP4/s220/IMG_3409_edited-1.jpg" width="21"/></author><generator uri="http://www.blogger.com" version="7.00">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>388</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><xhtml:meta content="noindex" name="robots" xmlns:xhtml="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"/><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-270878975906395042</id><published>2012-04-16T08:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2012-04-16T08:38:08.023-04:00</updated><title type="text">Evie's 3rd birthday - Vovó's second visit - New house - and more...</title><content type="html">&lt;div&gt;Dadsy hasn't blogged about you in a few months. One of the reasons why is because in the past few months so much has happened. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We were house hunting for a long time, and in the beginning of the year finally found a house that fit our situation it's about five minutes away from our other house which now we're renting out. Would love the new house at enough detail, but everyone's a while chill still say I miss the old house and everyone's houses. You keep telling stories just like you did before except ARTWORK color. You are so smart I still can remember things from when you were little baby like your belly button or say that black thing on my belly falling up when you're great that whenever we told. And that's without seeing photos of it. I wonder if that isn't possible for me if you just not getting to your mom's iPhone and saw a photo or something. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought came to visit us for the second time in February so she could participate in your birthday your third birthday. Can't believe you're that although we didn't have much different stuff with the hottest time because she just loved staying at the house so much, it was like a cottage in the woods for her. You were really nice to vovó several times even calling her vovó wafer because of so much wafer she ate all the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I forgot to mention that I also switched jobs at the beginning of the year the company called success factors where I am happier as a professional. Your mom also got her Masters in educational technology and is happier at her job as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your birthday was on 25 March at Gymboree as you say it. You loved having your friends over at your favorite place to play. Then right after that the first week of March is when we moved to the new house. Vovó was here to help us too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Vovó left March 25th. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It is already April and we still have things to move in the garage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; As you can see we were really busy. And I didn't have much time to blog about you and your growth and your intelligence and your beauty and your sweetness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What does you know you love pushing the limits. For instance this past month you have picked up on the fact that same words can be cute. So you change every song to sing or every other word you say into the word boo booby. Such as, "how much is that Poopie in the window?..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You also started thinking the word to "cueca" is great. So you say things like  "what are you doing, cueca?!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For a few months now you've been crying when you see movies, especially when Beast (in Beauty and the Beast) turns into an "angel" and you ball saying "I don't like angels, I don't want him turn into an angel!..."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/270878975906395042/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/270878975906395042" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/270878975906395042" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/270878975906395042" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2012/04/evies-3rd-birthday-vovos-second-visit.html" rel="alternate" title="Evie's 3rd birthday - Vovó's second visit - New house - and more..." type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-1603867892958550539</id><published>2011-11-28T22:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T22:51:11.043-05:00</updated><title type="text">Evie Talks</title><content type="html">Sim, você ouviu o papai: você fala... Que nem pobre na chuva, pra usar uma expressão bem não-cliché!&lt;div&gt;Logicamente você tem falado mais inglês que português, você está exposta mais ao primeiro. Mas além falar algumas coisas somente em português (como melancia, perereca - sim, é isso mesmo, pão-de-queijo, etc.) você também deu para corrigir os americanos quando falam certas coisas col você em inglês. No Thankagiving na cada da sua "grammy", por exemplo, ela perguntou se você queria a faca (para cortar bolo) pois você estava falando sobre a tal faca que estava sobre a mesa (o papai também tinha mencionado a tal faca falando que você não podia brincar com ela ou algo assim), quando você falou "in Portuguese a faca!" E&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); "&gt;m uma loja, você falou que queria "stuffS", o papai perguntou "que stuffS?" e você respondeu: "sruffS coisas!!!" ou seja, tenho uma filha interprete de infles para português e você-versa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"&gt;Você negocia. Sabe argumentar. Por exemplo, quando que alo, basta falar em português (mesmo que uma palavra em uma frase como "I want leite") que o papai logo providencia pra você. Ultimamente você tel já preparado o terreno antes de pedir algo como doce de sobra do Haloween (sim, é quase Natal e ainda temos sobra!) dizendo: "I'm a good girl. I want some candy!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469);"&gt;Continue assim e o papai ainda cai na sua lábia!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/1603867892958550539/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/1603867892958550539" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/1603867892958550539" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/1603867892958550539" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/11/evie-talks.html" rel="alternate" title="Evie Talks" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-3340870052636945905</id><published>2011-08-30T21:58:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T21:58:36.192-04:00</updated><title type="text">Sleeping routine</title><content type="html">Even though mommy and daddy fight every once in a while over whether or not we should let you talk and sing all night long (or until you dropped asleep), we got a good routine going ever since vovó went back to Brazil at the end of March. &lt;br /&gt;Around 8:30pm - 9:00 we sing "Jesus Loves Me", "Pintinho Amarelinho", "Dorme Neném", "O Sapo Não Lava o Pé", "ABC (in English)". You also babble about what went on at school, tell us stories (since June it's been mostly Halloween-themed stories), and eventually: sleep.&lt;br /&gt;If we left it for you to decide, though, you'd go on and on all night toll dawn...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/3340870052636945905/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/3340870052636945905" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3340870052636945905" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3340870052636945905" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/08/sleeping-routine.html" rel="alternate" title="Sleeping routine" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-209369955927492990</id><published>2011-08-30T20:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T20:05:45.013-04:00</updated><title type="text">Evie - obsession</title><content type="html">You're obsessed with Halloween. Have been since we came back from Brazil in July. "I want Halloween!" or "I want to watch Mickey Halloween on yours phone!" are constant phrases around here.&lt;br /&gt;Halloween books, Halloween shows, or even just asking to see Halloween decoration that started early this year at Lowe's. &lt;br /&gt;You have picked out a charter for everyone, when we ask (or more often: when you just want to ramble on and on about it without is asking) you simply start listing: "I wanna be kit cat! Mommy will be a spider! Grammy a witch! Grandad will be a coffee!..."&lt;br /&gt;You and your talkative personality will just approach anyone at, for instance, the Chick-Fil-A playground and start telling the semi-made-up Mickey Mouse Halloween story which goes somewhat like this: "Mickey Mouse Halloween! Mickey open da door, and Donald got scared... He opened the dooooooor! [arms stretched up to the sky and eyes wide open to add to the drama]!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who would know that that little baby in mommy's belly, turning her head to the other side to avoid a 4D ultrasound photo to be taken would now love to be the center of the attention anywhere she goes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would tell you though, that Halloween has always been your favorite holiday. Remember  last year when you asked daddy to walk you down to our neighbor's yard I'm the next cul-de-sac down every evening to see the scary decoration, especially that green monster baby which you then called "baby!"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you, Evie!&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/209369955927492990/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/209369955927492990" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/209369955927492990" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/209369955927492990" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/08/evie-obsession.html" rel="alternate" title="Evie - obsession" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-6109911722670535951</id><published>2011-06-13T20:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T20:20:48.981-04:00</updated><title type="text">Evie loves books</title><content type="html">This week we've purchased a wall system to store Evie's books in the living room. She loves it and keeps coming to sit by it, get books and read them on her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/enzofsilva/PortiglishOREngluese?authkey=Gv1sRgCLGE5IOc7pLIfA#5617863814214128914'&gt;&lt;img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyEftIiydh4h-XrDiGliNhHLfPFEo4K4iw77ryg4IPB5AwyItlnWv2aOZ5DvyNo0hsaKQX6kB4vvdVgm7vDoM8_6ATxyjbSHyPIHSHakj-AQxjCLI_2Xpjh-1cM1Myi5oV58y/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='320' height='320' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/6109911722670535951/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/6109911722670535951" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/6109911722670535951" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/6109911722670535951" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/06/evie-loves-books.html" rel="alternate" title="Evie loves books" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZyEftIiydh4h-XrDiGliNhHLfPFEo4K4iw77ryg4IPB5AwyItlnWv2aOZ5DvyNo0hsaKQX6kB4vvdVgm7vDoM8_6ATxyjbSHyPIHSHakj-AQxjCLI_2Xpjh-1cM1Myi5oV58y/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-5236623439917385260</id><published>2011-06-13T20:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T20:08:52.106-04:00</updated><title type="text">Evie&amp;#39;s First Story Time at The Library</title><content type="html">We got to the Hickory Flat library and we were one of the first ones there so we get to sit on the first row. We listened to stories about the African Sahara desert and the savannas of Africa. Evie loved it. She was so into listening to the storyteller speak. She sat with her legs crossed Indian style,  her eyes were fixated on on the books and the pictures.  At one point she got up so that she could get a closer look at the pictures.&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, we made spiders to go on our heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href='https://picasaweb.google.com/enzofsilva/PortiglishOREngluese?authkey=Gv1sRgCLGE5IOc7pLIfA#5617860733673541298'&gt;&lt;img src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfTSBkE6d0YD7UZrrQrYvKWdr_NHBxO9ULmvazipZrfKp3xSX_Zrqi587Ky6UlHOB7kbblJnxtVxaUK2rh0tjJhY970F9fcBQ4aPnnZAymchsrpKRG8rFIou7qvIDx2-gvjOj/s288/iphone_photo.jpg' border='0' width='209' height='281' style='margin:5px'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Paige&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/5236623439917385260/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/5236623439917385260" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5236623439917385260" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5236623439917385260" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/06/evie-first-story-time-at-library.html" rel="alternate" title="Evie&amp;#39;s First Story Time at The Library" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" height="72" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfTSBkE6d0YD7UZrrQrYvKWdr_NHBxO9ULmvazipZrfKp3xSX_Zrqi587Ky6UlHOB7kbblJnxtVxaUK2rh0tjJhY970F9fcBQ4aPnnZAymchsrpKRG8rFIou7qvIDx2-gvjOj/s72-c/iphone_photo.jpg" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-770280555060062696</id><published>2011-05-30T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-30T22:12:28.189-04:00</updated><title type="text">First Braves Game</title><content type="html">You're a Braves girl!&lt;br /&gt;Today was your first Braves game at Turner Field. Mommy and daddy chose the hottest day of the year (so it seemed) to bring you to the game. We had great seats up front but had to move back to other seats in the back after a while: we were melting.&lt;br /&gt;But you didn't complain one bit:  you wanted to see your Braves! You even did the tomahawk chop by yourself as other did it around you. You also screamed "go Braves!" as mommy and daddy did it too!&lt;br /&gt;After this game you started saying things like "I want baseball!" when at the house...&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention it was hot, really, really, hot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/770280555060062696/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/770280555060062696" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/770280555060062696" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/770280555060062696" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/08/first-braves-game.html" rel="alternate" title="First Braves Game" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-5725359568859768058</id><published>2011-04-04T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T22:09:57.223-04:00</updated><title type="text">Las Vegas - The Upgrade Experience</title><content type="html">As Paige puts it: I'm the luckiest sun of a gun she knows. No, I didn't win anything at the slot machines or gambling at the table. But I manage to get U's a few "upgrades" along the way.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning we were walking through the Escalibur (a hotel casino next to the Luxor where we stayed) and someone approached us offering 2 free tickets to any shows. We bought into the idea and picked Criss Angel, of course. We talked to a lady and toured the new Grandview Resort for 2 and half hour an got our free tickets. &lt;br /&gt;On our way back, tired from walking, I jokingly asked the acquamassage girl if we could get 2 for 1. "Sure!" and we did.&lt;br /&gt;When it was time for the show we stayed all the way in the back. A lady approached us an asked us: "do you like your seats or would you like to sit up front?" You can guess what we said. Fantastic show!&lt;br /&gt;Next day: Blue Man Group at the Venetian. As we sit in the back, a producer comes to me and asks me if I would like to volunteer on stage to trick the audience. "Sure!" he took me to the back and gave me black shoes and explained I'd be going to get pulled onto the stage by the Blue Man and participating in a trick where they put a jumpsuit and helmet on me and guide me back stage  while a pre-recorded look-alike is hung upside down and painted on. As soon as I get backstage, the assistants change my clothes into a dirty jumpsuit and shoes and I'm reeled back onto the stage in a box with a jello head. The blue Man ripped the jello off my head to reveal me safely inside! I was then taken to my seat by an assistant. It's quite interesting and intimidating how they his got close to my face and back an just stated at me in the eye, not saying a word. I felt one breathing in my right ear and had to double-check to make sure he wasn't saying anything (dumb of me, since when they're i character they don't utter one sound)!&lt;br /&gt;Today, coming back to the airport earlier to try and get on standby for an earlier flight, we stop at the Tropicana Hotel and Casino's door to find out where the shuttle was (they have the best shuttle/taxi services/lines right around the corner). We asked a lady coming out of the parking if he knew where the $2 shuttle was. "Sure, let me go back in and ask for you guys." she comes back saying it would probably be a while for it to stop by the hotel and offered us a free ride to the airport in her car (yes, we made sure she did work at the hotel). She turned out to be the VP of Entertainment at the Tropicana and had worked as a producer for the Blue Man Group a few years ago while still at the Luxor and some when they moved to the Venetian. She told us some stories about the Blue Man Group founders (e.g. 2 of their wives were girls that did the improv feast with them on stage - the girls pulled out of the audience for every show).&lt;br /&gt;Well, to top it off: we made it to the earlier flight.&lt;br /&gt;Ready to come back to Las Vegas and get upgraded again. What an experience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy 5th wedding anniversary (indeed)!!!&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/5725359568859768058/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/5725359568859768058" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5725359568859768058" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5725359568859768058" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/04/las-vegas-upgrade-experience.html" rel="alternate" title="Las Vegas - The Upgrade Experience" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-4021125769660207528</id><published>2011-02-27T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-27T22:40:10.139-05:00</updated><title type="text">Evelyn&amp;#39;s second birthday</title><content type="html">It is hard to believe you're now 2 years old, my princess. We've seen you grow smarter, prettier, funnier, and more certain of your lady convictions. Girl, do you know what you want!&lt;br /&gt;We had a fairy-themed party for your second birthday. You've been into a Tinker Bell phase lately, knowing exactly which buttons to push in your mommy's iPhone to play a music video of Celina Gomez singing a fairy song that goes somewhat like "fly to who you aaaare..." and you'll sing it to yourself every once in a while when playing with your toys. So sweet.&lt;br /&gt;Vovó was here this time. She loved being able to spend your second birthday together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/4021125769660207528/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/4021125769660207528" rel="replies" title="1 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4021125769660207528" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4021125769660207528" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/02/evelyn-second-birthday.html" rel="alternate" title="Evelyn&amp;#39;s second birthday" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-5222705961974472593</id><published>2011-01-12T08:47:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T08:47:30.281-05:00</updated><title type="text">Disney Trip</title><content type="html">I can't believe I'm just now writing about this. But we had the most amazing experience: I was able to take my mom, Evie, and Paige to Disney in October.&lt;br /&gt;I had been accepted in the Learning 2010 Conference as one of the 30 Under 30 participants (30 professionals under age 30 working in learning companies). I got to meet interesting people like Marshall Goldsmith and Jon Kapp (from the Obama social media campaign).&lt;br /&gt;The most amazing thing was to be able to take my mom without her knowing where we were going until we got there! She couldn't believe it. The best birthday of her life, she says, which we spent at the Animal Kingdom.&lt;br /&gt;We got there on Thursday might (10/21/2010) by car. Went to Magic Kingdom on Friday and Animal Kingdom on Saturday. Leaving Sunday to just hang out around Coronado Springs while I went to some events.&lt;br /&gt;Evie behaved so well! She loved the parks and played till she dropped every day!&lt;br /&gt;Our favorite was Animal Kingdom. My personal favorite the Africa region!&lt;br /&gt;Funny to hear my mom say she thought people really lived in the Africa area of the park in the little "town" area...&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/5222705961974472593/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/5222705961974472593" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5222705961974472593" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5222705961974472593" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2011/01/disney-trip.html" rel="alternate" title="Disney Trip" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-522227736654476556</id><published>2010-10-06T20:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-08T19:11:22.195-04:00</updated><title type="text">The Cat Reward</title><content type="html">Today we were playing with Evie outside when my mom saw the neighbor's missing at walk into his garage.&lt;br /&gt;My mom insisted o call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, he asked me to lower the garage door. When he got home it was the cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He insisted on giving my mom the $50 reward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/522227736654476556/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/522227736654476556" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/522227736654476556" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/522227736654476556" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/10/cat-reward.html" rel="alternate" title="The Cat Reward" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-618044764920639810</id><published>2010-10-04T16:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T16:23:36.946-04:00</updated><title type="text">Social Security Cards Here</title><content type="html">My updated American citizen card got here today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom's first social security card ever also came in the mail today! She was all excited about it...&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/618044764920639810/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/618044764920639810" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/618044764920639810" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/618044764920639810" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/10/social-security-cards-here.html" rel="alternate" title="Social Security Cards Here" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-6923004112573157576</id><published>2010-09-28T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-28T23:23:12.556-04:00</updated><title type="text">SSN for Rosária</title><content type="html">Today we went to the Social Security Administration and applied for my mom's social security card. I also updated mine (never found time ever since becoming a US citizen).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped by the Brazilian Bakery and the Minas Emporium on the way back...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/6923004112573157576/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/6923004112573157576" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/6923004112573157576" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/6923004112573157576" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/ssn-for-rosaria.html" rel="alternate" title="SSN for Rosária" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-7871629458555829433</id><published>2010-09-23T20:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T20:43:04.381-04:00</updated><title type="text">Rosária&amp;#39;s Greencard!</title><content type="html">Today my mom received her permanent residency card in the mail. &lt;br /&gt;Even though she doesn't understand what it means, it means a lot!&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.: she was asking me if she still needs to go to Rio to renew her visa once her passport expires. :)&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/7871629458555829433/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/7871629458555829433" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/7871629458555829433" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/7871629458555829433" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/rosaria-greencard.html" rel="alternate" title="Rosária&amp;#39;s Greencard!" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-3720305312340649748</id><published>2010-09-21T20:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T20:50:32.597-04:00</updated><title type="text">My daughter wants the moon</title><content type="html">O Evie. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At the beach. The moon is shining, pretty in the night sky above us.&lt;br /&gt;
You see it's pale light from within the cabin. You point at it and snore. That's what you do when you see the moon; is it sleeping? You call it with you hands, as of saying you want it.&lt;br /&gt;
Daddy tries to get close to it but he can't give it to you. You cry. He says he would give it to you if he could. We run in the shack... Another good night sleep...</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/3720305312340649748/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/3720305312340649748" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3720305312340649748" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3720305312340649748" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-daughter-wants-moon.html" rel="alternate" title="My daughter wants the moon" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-7979353311408012815</id><published>2010-09-21T12:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T12:20:14.745-04:00</updated><title type="text">First beach for Evie and Vovó</title><content type="html">Evie,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was your first beach.  Rosária had never seen the ocean either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came down to Seaside, FL where the Cadenheads' family have a beach house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy and daddy played with you building sandcastles by the lagoon. Daddy loved spinning you in the lagoon water and running splashing it on Vovó, Sheri and mommy. You enjoyed being on the float with mommy, but when sitting on mommy's lap on the beach chair you peed all over mommy... You also made friends with a little boy (Conner) at the lagoon, playing with sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vovó and you chased birds and watched the waves crashing in the shore. You said "wow!" several times...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vovó knelt down, she said, and thanked God for showing her the beach. She had asked Him one day show her a pretty Florida beach... And now she saw it with you, the most beautiful girl...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/7979353311408012815/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/7979353311408012815" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/7979353311408012815" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/7979353311408012815" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/first-beach-for-evie-and-vovo.html" rel="alternate" title="First beach for Evie and Vovó" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-4220343716430360732</id><published>2010-09-16T21:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T22:21:18.285-04:00</updated><title type="text">Rosária Tries Different Things</title><content type="html">Uma das coisas legais de se ver aqui é a atitude aberta da minha mãe para experimentar coisas novas. Doces, saladas, molhos, bebidas... O mais surpreendente foi o café hoje:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Enzo será que é gostoso esse creme que vocês colocam no café, é?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Claro, mamãe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Posso experimentar?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lógico, quer mesmo?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sim. Um pouquinho só."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[despejando o creme no café]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"mmmm que delícia! Isso é forte... até serve de almoço..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quem diria: Rosária tomando café diferente!&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/4220343716430360732/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/4220343716430360732" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4220343716430360732" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4220343716430360732" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/rosaria-tries-different-things.html" rel="alternate" title="Rosária Tries Different Things" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-5951418266417984255</id><published>2010-09-14T21:01:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T21:01:58.163-04:00</updated><title type="text">My mom = lucky</title><content type="html">&lt;br /&gt;I asked her if she wanted to scratch a lottery ticket today when we got home: she won $100!&lt;br /&gt;Hahaha. She's like: "I gotta tell Edna. I never won in Brazil, came to the States to win. I'll pay you the $20 you spent on the tickets and still have the money to buy the stuff I want like the hair dye I saw at Publix for $2! I'll go ahead and buy 2 of them!"&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/5951418266417984255/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/5951418266417984255" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5951418266417984255" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/5951418266417984255" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-mom-lucky.html" rel="alternate" title="My mom = lucky" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-3729541465224986365</id><published>2010-09-12T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T21:20:19.543-04:00</updated><title type="text">My American Grill</title><content type="html">Today I can call myself a true American: I went to Lowe's and bought a gas grill, invited Ron and Sheri Cadenhead and grilled some burgers and hotdogs I got at The Butcher Shop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I looked at grills at Lowe's, my mom decided to wander around at the store. A few minutes later she comes back where I am telling me the tale of how the lady at Lowe's dialed an interpreter service for her. She was speaking Portuguese on the phone asking for a manicure set... (let me emphasize: we are AT LOWE'S!!!)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/3729541465224986365/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/3729541465224986365" rel="replies" title="2 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3729541465224986365" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/3729541465224986365" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/my-american-grill.html" rel="alternate" title="My American Grill" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-8394388429474959623</id><published>2010-09-07T22:34:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-12T21:14:16.567-04:00</updated><title type="text">Rosária in the States</title><content type="html">Mamãe está nos EUA. "De Martinho Campos para o mundo", como digo. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eu nem bloguei desde a chegada dela pois estou aproveitando ao máximo a presença dela aqui nesta primeira semana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela chegou dia 01 de Setembro. Levantei cedo para ir pegá-la no aeroporto. O vôo veio de Brasília durante a noite. Eu e a Paige estávamos preocupados se a mãe teria pânico durante o vôo (minha mãe mesmo brincando de talvez precisar de levarmos ambulância ao portão de desembarque). Hehehe.&lt;br /&gt;Eu peguei um passe no balcão da Delta para ir até o ponto de segurança logo após a imigração. &lt;br /&gt;A encontrei lá: calma, feliz, dizendo que ficou tranquila e adorou o vôo, que nem durante turbulência ela ficou com medo pois se apegou a Deus.&lt;br /&gt;Logo saindo do aeroporto já começou a dizer coisas como:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Que loucura deste lugar, até metrô tem no aeroporto!"&lt;br /&gt;"Que país bonito. Muito verde, mato, ar puro, casas bonitas..."&lt;br /&gt;"Se eu contasse ninguém acreditaria."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ela também está impressionada com o preço de mercadorias, especialmente roupas. Comprando de lembrancinhas para a família no Brasil a vestidos na TJMax. Compras são a coisa favorita dela nos EUA, "um terapia" como diz ela. Chega de uma loja e já quer voltar pra rua para ver mais vitrines...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mas o que ela adora mesmo é passar tempo conosco, especialmente com a Evie ou Vivi como ela diz. Fica vislumbrada com a beleza e inteligência da Evie, em suas próprias palavras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nos dias em que a Evie vai para a eacolinha, a mãe fica procurando ocupação. Então, limpa a casa e faz uma boa comida da mamãe para nós.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/8394388429474959623/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/8394388429474959623" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/8394388429474959623" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/8394388429474959623" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/rosaria-in-states.html" rel="alternate" title="Rosária in the States" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-570449582864451038</id><published>2010-09-01T22:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-01T22:22:26.272-04:00</updated><title type="text">Mamãe&amp;#39;s First Day in the USA</title><content type="html">After going through a few different interview rooms at the ATL airport, she met me after the first security check. She said she had a good trip, loved the flight! "Not scary at all", she said.&lt;br /&gt;On the way home she was in awe: so many trees in the city, pretty houses, big cars (a guy in a red truck even smiled at her as he passed us). ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved seeing Evie and playing with her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had lunch at Chick-Fil-A. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the afternoon, the 3 of the took a walk outside near the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We the met the family for dinner at Family Tradition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She said it was s great day and it will take s few days for her to realize she's in the States and not just dreaming...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/570449582864451038/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/570449582864451038" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/570449582864451038" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/570449582864451038" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/09/mamae-first-day-in-usa.html" rel="alternate" title="Mamãe&amp;#39;s First Day in the USA" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-4427581357780527774</id><published>2010-08-11T20:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T20:41:21.444-04:00</updated><title type="text">She got it!</title><content type="html">This morning my mother went to an interview at the American Consulate in Rio de Janeiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a quick and nice interview she was granted a visa which will be stamped on her passport and mailed to her in Belo Horizonte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She sounded excited once I finally got a hold of we after trying to call the whole day. She is on the bus on her way home now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/4427581357780527774/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/4427581357780527774" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4427581357780527774" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4427581357780527774" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/08/she-got-it.html" rel="alternate" title="She got it!" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-2826152109341578892</id><published>2010-08-10T22:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T22:36:14.597-04:00</updated><title type="text">My Mom in Rio</title><content type="html">She arrived today with her sister. I had booked a hotel 3 blocks away from the Consulate for them.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to call the whole afternoon: they had been wandering around the streets of downtown Rio looking for coffee... &lt;br /&gt;She said they thought it was easier to get around in Rio than in Belo Horizonte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has her interview tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/2826152109341578892/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/2826152109341578892" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/2826152109341578892" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/2826152109341578892" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-mom-in-rio.html" rel="alternate" title="My Mom in Rio" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-1123103522086212506</id><published>2010-07-14T22:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-14T22:14:33.751-04:00</updated><title type="text">Mamãe&amp;#39;s Greencard Interview Scheduled</title><content type="html">For August 11th at 7:15am in Rio de Janeiro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/1123103522086212506/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/1123103522086212506" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/1123103522086212506" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/1123103522086212506" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/07/mamae-greencard-interview-scheduled.html" rel="alternate" title="Mamãe&amp;#39;s Greencard Interview Scheduled" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16875863.post-4986662762042932587</id><published>2010-06-17T12:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T20:38:42.930-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="immigration"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="USCIS"/><title type="text">DS-230</title><content type="html">This morning we sent out my mom's DS-230 parts I and II (application for permanent residency).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/feeds/4986662762042932587/comments/default" rel="replies" title="Post Comments" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/16875863/4986662762042932587" rel="replies" title="0 Comments" type="text/html"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4986662762042932587" rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/16875863/posts/default/4986662762042932587" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml"/><link href="http://enzoepaige.blogspot.com/2010/06/ds-230.html" rel="alternate" title="DS-230" type="text/html"/><author><name>Enzo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01945168516739713096</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image height="16" rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" src="https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" width="16"/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>