It was a pretty calm year to me, to be honest.

I started going less to the hospital and that meant something that I couldn't love more to hear: Spending more time at home.

Of course it didn't mean spending more time with my parents. But it meant spending more time with the rest of the family, and more time to play outside at my house's garden. Of course that, being away from the big city and being back at my hometown was something that relaxed me and me feel contented.

This is one of the years I remember the most of my childhood.

Maybe because, it was happier than the others.

Since my grandfather was a sculptor, I had always been interested in making all kind of structures and figures. I remember regularly making porexpan houses for snails. I was really immersed into details and stuff so I would make door and windows, even bedrooms.

Obviously, the snails would 'run away' at night but my innocence told me it was my grandmother's fault so I would scream at her every single morning, asking her why she had fred the snails. She would laugh at me and I would get even more upset. It took me some years to realize that I was dumb, but oh well, those are the little things that make you smile when you remember the good times.

What I do remember is grabbing a permanent black ink marker and painting the whole fridge my parents had just bought. It was a friggin new fridge. My parents had spent so much money in that fridge and I friggin ruined it. Yes, just the same way I ruined the video tape player when I was two years old, just in the moment I had the excelent idea of smearing my poop all over the video player and the furniture.

That draw was awfully full of influences of things I saw on TV back then: Hip-Hop 'gangsters' with spiky hair and funky eyeglasses and wedding dresses that showed, you know what, ies. 

Moving on, those were not the only funny things I remember doing.

Since I was free from the hospital, my mother's friends kind of tried to replace her - in a good way - and they would pick me at the weekend and take me around. One day we would go to the beach, the other we would go to an amusement park.

One of my dearest memories with my late paternal grandparents came from this year.

I remember that they had this nice, cozy apartment next to the beach; across the street there it was, the beach. I would wake up to the cunning sound of the waves breaking against the rocks at the beachside. My bedroom had this huge window and I would stare at the sea when it still was dawn. The sun was barely up, and, even though the sky was grey, the street lights combined with the palm trees, the sand, the rocks and the waves calmed me down so much.

I always was a person who prefered rainy days over sunny days, and it never bothered me when it started raining intensely and we couldn't go to the beach at all. The violent waves excited me when I parted my eyes away from the television. My grandmother, whose family belonged to aristocracy, would explain interesting things and facts about my ancestors as she made me the most delicious treats ever.

But, of course; then, summer was over and I was back to routine, back to living with my maternal grandparents and seeing my parents once a week.

'Strange people' would come over my house, and constantly bugged me, trying to get my attention, when I just wanted to play a little more. They would ask me where my parents were; but my grandfather would come up and take me away with him with a simple 'Leave my granddaughter alone' before they could even ask me something else.

All of a sudden, I started seeing my mom frequently. For most 5 year-old kids, seeing their mother at least 3 times a week is a routine, but, in my case, it was a noticeable exception, to which I obviously wasn't used to.

She would just smile at me and try to spend all the time she could spend with me. I eventually asked her what was the motive.

She was having a baby !

Original painted fridge: