Doncovim / My childhood

Inspirada pelas narrativas do Ernani e da Bel, resolvi entrar na danca e contar a minha trajetoria de vida.
Lendo as historias desses dois amigos queridos, me lembrei de coisas e acontecimentos que ha muito haviam sumido da minha memoria. E foi terapeutico.
Vou dividir com voces a minha historia ( se achar chato, pode pular...a terapia afinal e minha)

Sou filha unica. Nasci em Aguas de Lindoia quando a minha mae tinha apenas 18 anos. Meu pai tinha 20 anos e eu acho que nenhum dos dois sabia muito bem o que era esse negocio de brincar de casinha. Muito menos de boneca.
Diz a minha mae que meu pai chegava para almocar e ela estava brincando comigo ( ainda bebe) e nao tinha nem pensado em fazer o almoco.
Cresci comendo bobagens a qualquer hora do dia ou da noite. Acho que ela nunca aprendeu que a casa deveria ter cafe da manha, almoco e jantar.
Cansei de ver a minha mae tomando coca cola e comendo bifes de manha.
E pra mim, era uma farra. Chocolate, iogurte e danoninho eram permitidos a qualquer momento. Segundo a minha mae, a geladeira tambem era minha - nao tinha cabimento eu ter que pedir permissao para comer na minha propria casa.
Meu pai desde sempre, trabalhou feito um doido para sustentar a familia que ele criou assim que saiu  da adolescencia.
Tenho flashs da minha infancia, mas poucas lembrancas solidas.
Me lembro de passar muito tempo na casa da minha avo, em Serra Negra. A imagem e sempre a mesma. Eu, sentadinha na sala, brincando sozinha com pedras de aquario. Ou deitada no sofa assistindo Jerry Lewis na sessao da tarde. Nao me lembro de passeios, saidas, amiguinhos.Pra minha avo, ninguem era bom o suficiente pra ser meu amigo.
Quando iamos a casa da minha Tia Maria ( 1 vez por mes, talvez) , a coisa mudava - e eu brincava com o meu primo que e 4 anos mais velho que eu.
Brincavamos de indio ( e ele passava terra vermelha em mim, pq a indiazinha era eu), brincavamos de carrinho ( e ele me arrastava num pano pela casa afora, ate ele se cansar, dar um solavanco no carrinho e me derrubar de costas, inevitavelmente batendo a cabeca no chao - sempre a mesma brincadeira, sempre o mesmo final). Me lembro de irmos pra pracinha pegar sementinhas no chao.
Esse meu primo, o Pedro, sempre foi meu idolo. Ele era lindo, sabia tudo. E era bem mais velho, ele ja tinha 8 anos.
me lembro de inventar amigos imaginarios, jogar jogos de tabuleiro como se eu fosse duas pessoas diferentes, brincar de gangorra sozinha - eu corria de um lado pro outro da gangorra ( sim, em pe, em cima da gangorra), pra faze-la subir e descer...
Tambem passei muito tempo na casa da minha madrinha em Sao Paulo. Eu era a unica crianca na casa, ficava horas na frente da televisao. Na adolescencia continuei passando as minhas ferias la, mas troquei a televisao pelo telefone - o sofa era o mesmo. Ficava hoooras deitada nele, conversando com qualquer um disposto a jogar conversa fora.
Alem dessas, minhas lembrancas sao poucas. Nao me lembro de muitos amigos, nem de muitas aventuras. Nao tenho lembrancas tristes - nem me lembro de me sentir sozinha. Eu tinha a impressao de ser a dona do mundo. Os adultos da minha vida sempre me fizeram sentir especial, me fizeram acreditar que eu poderia fazer o que eu bem entendesse da vida, por que eu era uma pessoa capaz.


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Reading posts of two good bloggers ( sorry, they only write in portuguese), I had flasbacks of my own life and found it therapeutic.
I'll share with you my life story (if you find annoying, just ignore it ... this is my self therapy)I am an only child. I was born in Aguas de Lindoia ( Brazil)when my mother was only 18. My father was 20 and I think neither of them knew very well what they were doing. They were playing with a lil doll. 
My mother tells me my father would come home for lunch and she would be playing with me ( I was still a baby), and there would be no lunch for him.
I grew up eating whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. I guess she never learned a normal house should have breakfast, lunch and dinner.She would drink coke and eat steak for breakfast. I saw it far too many times.As gastronomy went, I had a free ride. Chocolate, yogurt, sweets  were always available. I remember taking packages of chocolate biscuits to school - and I did that throughout my education years, until i graduated from University.
According to my mother, the house was mine too - and it would be unthinkeable to have to ask permission to eat in my own house.My father has always worked like a madman to support the family he formed straight after his teen years. He would have two jobs, to make sure I would have enough.I have flashbacks of my childhood, but few solid memories.I remember spending much time at my grandmother's house. The memory is always the same. I was sitting in the livingroom, playing alone with aquarium stones. Or lying on the sofa watching Jerry Lewis on TV. I do not remember trips, outings, having friends around. For my grandma, no one was good enough to play with me.Once in a while, my grandma tooke me to visit my Great Aunty Mary - she had a son who was only 4 years older than me, and we were great buddies when we met.
We prettended I was a native Indian (and he would paint me with red dirt), we pretended I was driving a car  (while he dragged me  all over the house, sitting on a cloth, until he  got tired, pulled the cloth and made me fall backwards, hitting my head on the floor. It was always the same game, always the same ending) We went out and collected seeds from the trees.
Pedro was my hero. He knew everything there was to know. And he was much older, he was already  eight.I remember making up imaginary friends, playing board games  alone (like I'm two different people), playing seesaw alone - I ran from side to side of the seesaw (yes, Standing on top of it), to make it go up and down ...I also spent much time in my godmother's house in Sao Paulo. I was the only child in the house and spent hours in front of the television. In my teens I kept going there on my hols, but I switched the television for the phone - the sofa was the same. I spent hours lying there, talking to anyone willing to make small talk with me.Besides these, my memories are few. I know it sounds sad, but I never felt sad. i did not even realized i was lonely. I somehow felt special. The adults in my life made me feel really special and capable of doing anything I wanted.