I don’t have many memories of babyhood, but specific incidents do stick out: I remember wearing a diaper, finding it a bit uncomfortable, and trying to get it off. I also remember having a bad habit of trying out my new teeth on everything and everybody.
I remember, at two, seeing my mother put my months-old baby sister in my grandparents’ brown car so they could take her to their house for a while. I started crying.
My ex-boyfriend tells the story of knocking over his father’s home-movie projector at the age of two or three. The projector set the carpet on fire, filling the room with smoke. Little dude ran to his parents’ bedroom and yelled, “'Moke! 'Moke!”
A thought: I wonder if early memories, or the ability to have them, is related to intelligence. Perhaps “gifted” people, or those with high IQs, are aware of themselves sooner than other folks? Any thoughts on this? Any cites?
When I was 11, I went to visit my grandmother. I was a divorce kid, so I hadn’t actually seen this grandmother in YEARS.
While I was there, I actually had a very brief flash of memory… in it, I was sitting on the couch- which, in my memory, was facing the fireplace, rather than against the wall. I remembered there was someone sitting on the couch next to me, and a bird flew in through the fireplace. It flew around the room, then flew back out.
I told my grandmother about it, and she said that that had happened when I was three months old. The person sitting on the couch next to me was my cousin Micah, who was, at that point, a newborn.
I remember my parents having a fight in the living room. I want to say I was 2, but I might have been 3, given that a toddler’s sense of time isn’t the best. I remember standing off to one side while they yelled at each other. I know I was standing on top of something, and it was probably the couch. I remember what pajamas I was wearing, though I can’t remember where my brother was during it. It’s just a few seconds, like part of a video clip. I know I remember it, because it was certainly never spoken of again.
I also have a single memory of a trip to the Bahamas, when I was four or thereabouts. I remember sitting at a table by a beach with my family at sunset and my uncle wearing a white hat. I also remember my mom dousing mine and brother’s heads with kerosene when we got back from the trip and she realized “my head itch” meant “I have lice.”
What a great topic. I’m surprised no one’s posted it before (including me).
I have early memories associated early family vacations at the beach, one or two at the old Miramar in Montecito, California. I remember somebody taking me into the pool with them, and liking it not at all! I couldn’t have been more than two. When about three or four I made up a little tune and, when they asked me what it was called, I said, “Greena”. And that’s what I sang to the melody…just “Greena, greena, greena”.
I have a later memory from kindergarten, but I don’t know if I was four or five at the time. I was having my picture taken as I sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, where I had been playing with a toy train. In the picture I’ve got my index finger touching the the cab of the locomotive. What’s interesting about this memory is that I remember the picture being taken, and I remember putting my finger on the engine, in a very deliberate act. I don’t know why I did it…perhaps I wanted to identify myself in some fashion with the train, as I was crazy about trains at the time. But I definitely remember the real event, apart from the picture.
What I believe to be my first memory is set in my maternal grandmother’s house in Lakeland, Florida. This memory does not cover much time; perhaps a minute or so elapses in this recollection. I am walking from the laundry room, through the kitchen, towards the living room. It must be nighttime, since it is dark outside the windows, and there are lights on in the living room.
Judging from the towering height of the kitchen counters and the table nearby, I am very young and very small indeed, although I cannot estimate just exactly how old I am. My best guess has always been around the age of two. My parents confirmed for me that although we were living in Warner Robins, GA prior to my fourth birthday, we did visit relatives (including my grandparents) in Lakeland when I was about two years old. I remembered the carpet in the living room well enough to describe it to my grandparents years later…my grandmother reported that the carpet I described was replaced when I was about three years old.
Oddly enough, there is no one else in this memory although I am almost certainly not alone. Perhaps someone is standing behind me, watching me walk or helping me walk through the kitchen. Perhaps it is my mom, or her parents. But in any case there are no people in the living room or in the kitchen.
And there is no sound in this memory. I must not have been wearing my hearing aids.
Just checking in here on my old thread. Really interesting posts. The one by honey is the most intriguing to me.
There doesn’t seem to be any way to collect meaningful data though, via the SDMB, about how common this is, correlations to memory in general, or intelligence.
I guess sometimes having something be mysterious should be viewed as a good thing.
Actually, now that you mention it…in that same class that we read Freud(in), we also read something that suggested that there’s a good reason why some people have very early memories, and some don’t: age of language acquisition. It made the point that as we learn to talk in complete sentences our thoughts (presumably) move from being in “pictures” to being in words. When we can speak in complete sentences we have more language to back up our memories, which makes them more, um, memorable, than pictures alone are. The theory in the article is that the people with the earliest dateable memories are the ones who spoke fluently the earliest, too. My parents claim I was speaking in full sentences before my 2nd birthday, so I wonder if that holds true for other dopers?
When I was about one, they gave me some 70s walker. Essentially: give monbility to tot that shouldn’t have. In any case, it looked like a blody space capsule, so much so that my parents named it “Sputnik.”
So I’m in my baby SputniK, oblivious to it all, and apparently (from what my parents tell me) I wandered down the street to where they were partying then fell on a staircase and cut almost al of my lower lip off (all in the Sputnik). So, as a toddler, I start sucking on my lower lip, which was about to detach.
Finally, when my drunken parents realized what was going on, they rushed me to the chirldrens’ hospital. Could my lip be re-attached? Yes, with plastic surgery. However, I couldn’t be put under because of my age or something, and I couldn’t haver loacal anaesthetic because that would have made my lip swell up and be impossible to re-attach. So, in the end, I was restrained on a gurney, screaming. I still remember the docotrs in their masks looking at me and doing stuff. Pain, pain, pain. I still have the scars. Whatever.
[size=1]Just wait until I get into my ass surgery two years ago…[size]
Everytime we got stopped at this one intersection in my hometown, I’d always gaze down the cross street to my right, down the hill to the grassy space and the train tracks just beyond and think, “Red, white, and blue, and people.” So finally I asked my mother about it and she said that the Bicentennial train had been parked there during the Bicentennial and she had taken my brother and I to see it. I was 3.
I remember my car seat being either navy blue or black - and the Audi my parents drove had either a grey or powder blue interior. (Mom tells me she thinks my car seat was a med. blue.)
I remember the deaths of my two dogs (Mom thinks I was probably 2 or 3). As others on the board will attest, trauma tends to breed memories. They did not die pleasantly.
I remember being potty trained. I had a mini-toilet in our powder room that I recall being an olive green color (it WAS the 70’s, after all). My memory is that I was in there doing my thing and I had left the door of the room wide open (I was 2, okay). My mother went walking by, followed by my brother, and one of them was holding a little black kitten. I jumped up and ran after them.
My other potty training memory was that I had a pair of overalls that had a train locomotive embroidered on the front pocket. I remember Mom saying something about “potty training” to me and I thought it had something to do with that train on my pocket - like I was required to wear those overalls whenever I used the toilet.
I used to have an awesome memory. I could tell you what I wore on the first and last days of every year of elementary school. Now I’d be hard pressed to tell you what I had for lunch yesterday. Too many things to think about!
I remember being at my grandmother’s house and everyone getting excited and calling my grandfather to come see what I’d done. I didn’t understand what the fuss was about, but I’m sure it was my first step.
Later, I remember everyone listening to the radio and getting very excited. This I believe was when Pearl Harbor was being announced.
I remember other things during this period, especially concerning WWII.
All this was before elementary school, which was really 1-12 and if you think that wasn’t an experience, you’re wrong. (Beaver Creek, OH).
Someone remarked remembering their car seat. My two oldest children didn’t have car seats.
Well, I believe I have memories of my first birthday party. Being carried downstairs, and seeing the cake…white, with cherries at the bases of the candles. All of maybe five seconds of memory. And, since I was born late in the day, in all probability I have memories from before when I was a year old! Beat THAT!
And I do with great clarity remember the day my sister was born. She’s just over three years younger than me. It took me a little by surprise, as I recall.
I remember being in California - going to Sea World (or something like that) and being in a small earthquake. Those are my first memories. I was 1.5 or 2 at the time. Everyone that I’ve told can’t believe it, so I’m glad for the SD support group. Thanx Dopers!
I’m definitely one of those sexual deviants – er, I mean, “statistical deviants!” [sub]ahem[/sub]
I have what my friends call the Scary Memory Powers[sup]TM[/sup] (in my teens, if I went to a play or a movie, I used to be able to recite the actors lines from memory after seeing it just the one time.) My Scary Memory isn’t nearly as good, but my friends still think it’s extraordinary.
I do have very vivid memories from VERY early childhood.
I remember getting my diaper changed when I was too young to lift my head. I was being changed on the living room floor. My mother pricked her thumb with a pin (it was still cloth diaper days) and she made some upset worried noises (I assume she was telling my father to get a Band-Aid, but I was too young to understand speech – I remember the sound and tone of her voice, but not actual words). My mom showed me her pricked thumb with the bead of blood right at its center. My dad, who was a tall blur dressed in brown, came back in the room with a Band-Aid.
I also have several assorted memories of learning to talk (ie/ my first words were imitating my babysitter’s way of saying “no way!” to the older kids.) Learning to walk (falling down the stairs). Playing in my jolly-jumper. And lots of crib stuff.
Interesting to note:
I’m aware that some memories have been slightly corrupted. I remember the first time I saw “The Sound of Music” of TV, but I distinctly do NOT remember the marrionnettes as “goats and goatherd” – in my memory they are just roundish, hairy things jumping around. I also remember one of the first needles I got in my arm (and my pediatrician had HAIR – been bald for 20 years!), but I don’t remember “needle”, my memory version looks more like “yellow screwdriver.”
My earliest memory has been reliably confirmed to be at 9 months. My sister was involved in it and she swears up and down that it set the mood and tone for my life from that point onward.
I distinctly remember taking a massive dump (for a 9 month old) in my crib, then proceeding to fingerpaint the walls with it. When my sister walked into the room, I threw a handful at her. She says I’ve been slinging shit right and left ever since, and was really surprised when I didn’t go into politics.
Two years, five months, and about a week and a half: that’s how old I was when my mother brought my brother back from the hospital.
In addition to my mother and father, there were several other adults present, all crowded into our kitchen (probably employees from my parents’ diner, which was next door to the house). I distinctly remember being lifted up to look at my brother as he lay in the basket on the kitchen counter. He was asleep.
My next earliest memory is from almost two years later: JFK’s funeral. My mother and father were unusually quiet and solemn as we watched the proceedings on TV. I didn’t understand what was going on – what four-year-old did? – but it was apparent to me that something important was happening.
I remember my mother telling me at some point, “President Kennedy is dead. We have a new president now, President Johnson”. Like it was yesterday.
I have a very distinct memory of sitting outside in the snow with no coat and feeling like I was freezing to death except my arm was very hot. I wondered how my arm could be so hot in the freezing cold. My mother confirms that I had a broken arm at age 2.
I also have a memory of having my diaper changed by my father, when I was lying on the kitchen table and looking up and seeing the kitchen light.
My earliest memory is that of my aunt changing my diaper. I can remember laying on her bed, looking up at her. I also remember a few instances of getting baths in the kitchen sink.
My earliest memory goes back to sometime in 1985. I was around 2 at the time. Our backyard was being paved and I was imitating the bricklayer and hitting bricks with a hammer. I know what year it was because there’s a photo of it and I’ve compared how old I look in it with photos I know were taken in 1984 and 1986. At that age, the difference is clear between each year. But I’m not just creating an imagined memory from the photo because the memory I have of the event takes place in a different part of the yard than in the photo (my parents set it up so they could get a picture of my imitating the bricklayer, complete with sledgehammer and lollypop stick for a fake cigarette - the bricklayer was a smoker). I’ve always had this memory.
Next, I have a few memories from when I was 4 and 5. Then my memory starts kicking in properly at about age 6.
I swear I remember being put in my crib while my older brother got to stay up to watch the moon landing in 1969. I was about 18 months old. More vivid are a few memories from when I was 3 years old; the most memorable one is when my little lightbulb switched on and I learned to read one day (“Hop on Pop” by Dr. Seuss). I know I remember this because I recall the pattern of the linoleum floor I was laying on while perusing the book. I hollered to Mom, “Mom! Mom! I can do it!” Another one is when I got in big trouble for trying to get my cat Fresca out of the dog house by crawling in and screaming at the top of my lungs. The dog house was made out of a wooden barrel, and I was blocking the entrance so the cat couldn’t come out anyway (at the time I had no understanding of the poor logic of this). Mom came running, I guess thinking that I had been attacked by wild animals or something. I got a whooping for that one! Then around the same age, I learned to curse. One time, Mom chased me with a bar of soap, and I darted behind the couch all the way back to the end table (which was cube shaped and mostly closed with shelves on one side) in the corner. I knew she couldn’t fit back there. Whether I won or the soap won has faded into history.
