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À meia noite e tal chega a vez. O que acontece? Não deixa selecionar lugares ( livres) e ao fim dos 10 minutos mandam me outra vez para trás
INACREDITÁVEL🤡🤡
Epa porque será, é tão fixe ganhar 900 paus, viver com os pais depois dos 30 anos, não ter independência financeira, viver numa adolescência perpétua, não ter perspectivas nenhumas de futuro
UK & Europe, you embraced us like you always have and made every room feel like home. ❤️ From the first note to the final singalong, it was a privilege to come back, feel the love, and share these songs with you - in some cases for the very first time! Until next time… 🌍✨
“Can I bring my baby to the interview?”
The message came in at 11 PM:
“Hi, I have an interview with you tomorrow at 2 PM. My childcare fell through. Can I bring my 8-month-old? I understand if you need to reschedule.”
Old me would have rescheduled.
Unprofessional. Distraction. Red flag.
New me replied:
“Absolutely. See you tomorrow.”
She showed up with her baby on her hip.
She apologized three times before even sitting down.
Ten minutes in, the baby started crying.
She tried to soothe him while answering questions.
She apologized again.
I stopped the interview and said:
“Hey. You’re managing a fussy baby, answering complex questions, and staying calm under pressure. That’s literally the job. Handling chaos while staying professional. You’re already proving you can do it.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
We hired her.
She’s been with us for a year now.
The most reliable team member we have.
Why?
Because when you’re used to handling a screaming infant at 3 AM and still showing up to work the next day, workplace stress feels like nothing.
Working parents, especially mothers, are some of the most organized, efficient, and resilient people you’ll ever hire.
Yet we lose them because our hiring processes are built for people with zero caregiving responsibilities.
If your interview process can’t accommodate a parent facing a childcare issue, you’re not filtering for professionalism.
You’re filtering for privilege.
I won't end this year pretending everything was fine. I lost a piece of myself this year that I will never get back, and I'm not forcing a smile as if it didn't change me. So no, I won't be saying “2026 is going to be my year”. I'll be praying that I recover next year, that my heart never has to break like this again, that I never have to survive something like this again. I'll be hoping for peace. Real peace, the kind that lets me breathe without fighting for it. I deserve a year that doesn't hurt.