What is the first memory that you can recall from your life?
For me, I am under one year of age and playing under the ironing board while my Mom irons. The iron cord loops downward and I try to sit in it, thinking its a swing. The hot iron falls down and lands on my back.
This, I have a hazy recollection, my mom scoops me up and puts me in the skin running cold water on my burnt skin. I have no scar, but my back tans like a sun of a gun in the summer, where the rest of me is lilly white.
Crawling out from a hotel room and picking up something from a room service tray on the floor.
Also, knocking my older brother’s bucket of legos down the stairs to the rec room.
I THINK I remember bits and pieces from when I was very young, but I’m probably really remembering stories that were told to me about them.
My first real, defined memory is of Pres. Kennedy’s assassination and funeral. To this day when I see a flag-draped coffin, I have a Kennedy flashback.
(No wisecracks from the peanut gallery about, “Hey, don’t you remember the McKinley funeral, too?”)
actually, it’s watching my father paint a Giraffe on my wall in my bedroom in Brooklyn, i was probably about 2 though, dim memory… the room i was in is actually about the size of a small walk in closet, but then it seemed so big… 
ahh, to be a child…
I have a lot of childhood memories from the time period of 3-6 years old, but some of them are kind of hazy and jumbled so I don’t know FOR SURE that this would be the earliest one for me, but I’ll give it a go:
I’m 2 and a half and my brother is about 8 or 10 months old and has learned to walk… or rather run. He never started out walking, he started out running. I remember my mom and dad being extatic about this, and me running up and down the hall saying, “I can run too, Dad!”.
My first memory is from when I was 3 years old. I was potty trained but had an accident… I had peed my pants. My brother was 4 at the time. He didn’t want me to get into trouble so he told me to get into the dryer and we would dry off my pants and mom and dad would never know. So me, being the dumb little 3 year old that obviously believed everything my older brother told me, climbed into the dryer. He shut the door and turned it on. I remember going around a few times and bumping my head and arms. I pushed the door open and told him that I was scared and wanted him to get in with me. He was just starting to climb into the dryer with me when mom and dad opened the door to find out what was going on.
That has always stuck in my mind for some reason. I don’t think I ever trusted my brother after that though. That was a wild ride!!
My earliest memory is an allergic reaction to Mr. Bubbles. I must have been about 2 or so. I can still remember scratching and whining about it. Why do I feel the urge to scratch now? 
the general age so far seems to be around 2-3, is there something to this?
The first one I can remember clearly…age 3. I’m standing in a huge airport looking out the plate glass window watching the plane my daddy just got on. I’ve later been told that he was heading to his new assignment in Germany and mom and I couldn’t join him until he’d secured base housing. All I really remember is watching my first airplane take off.
Chrisbar
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a moocow coming down along the road and this moocow that was coming down along the road met a nicens little boy named baby tuckoo.
His father told him that story: his father looked at him through a glass: he had a hairy face.
He was baby tuckoo. The moocow came down the road where Betty Byrne lived: she sold lemon platt.
O, the wild rose blossoms
On the little green place.
He sang that song. That was his song.
I remember being put down for a forced nap in the afternoons, my little brother in a crib in the next room.
I hated that nap.
I soon learned it would be over when my brother woke up and started to scream. So I learned to go into his room and snatch his bottle from his little hands. Of course, soon this no longer made him cry so I had to resort to grabbing his crib by the bars and giving it a rattle to set him off. It wasn’t long before this graduated to the day when I was furiously shaking his crib, banging it into the wall, all to no avail he sat grinning like a halfwit but my Mom appeared, just then, in the doorway to see what all the fuss and noise was about. I clearly remember being embarassed when she repeated the story to my father when he arrived home.
I remember my brother being born. I was 2, I remember going to the hospital and seeing my mother and baby brother.
I think I had a bad day and have held it against him personally because I haven’t gotten along with him for over 20 years now.
When I was 2, we went to DC. The whole thing is very vivid for me. [ul]
[li]It was spring, and I remember thinking SisterRiddles was a dork for skipping through the cherry trees that were in full blossom. They were only TREES.[/li]
[li]We went to the White House. This was terribly exciting. Around this same time, the government of China donated two panda bears to the US, Ling Ling and Sing Sing. As President Regan was the one to accept them, I assumed the pandas were his. And since we were going to his house, it was logical to assume that the pandas would be there. I expected them to have modified dog houses, and that I would get to play with them. Imagine my disppointment when there were NO pandas. I also remember my mom holding me as we entered, and I said “Momma, it’s such a BIG White House!” and my parents chuckling. I also remember thinking that the president would be greeting us at the door, as it WAS his house, and that’s only polite. We go on the tour, no pres. Hmmm…maybe they’re gonna end the tour with him. You can’t go to someone’s house and NOT see that person. How rude.[/li]
[li]We went to Montecello, and there were peacocks running around the grounds. And there was a mini-Swiddles running after them. I do remember one of them displaying ploomage. That stopped me in my tracks. [/ul][/li]
My father claims to remember reaching soooo high for a door handle and not quite making it. He must have been tiny.
I find that I’m not sure whether my early memories are really memories or just stories that I’ve heard made into memories…
After some thought, I’ve decided that my first memory is of being 3 or 4 years old and living in San Antonio. We had a ranch-style house in a quiet neighborhood with a big back yard. There was a tree in the yard that had a large branch that was parallel to the ground and about three feet above it. My daddy and I used to sit on that branch a lot, laughing and talking.
This memory has happy connotations for me. I felt protected and special because my daddy was spending time with me. I felt goofy because daddy was making me laugh or singing to me… Anyway, my memory: Daddy and I are sitting on the branch talking to each other when I look down and see a BIG bug on my red Ked.
“Daddy, Daddy! A bug! Get it off!”
“He’s just a waterbug, Natosch. He won’t hurt you.”
But he scared it off my Ked anyway.
Four: I remember being at Mr Benny’s house with my uncle. There was a toad hiding underneath a piece of wood.
Five: I remember standing beside a big uprooted tree stump with my brother and cousin, talking about my upcoming operation (tonsilectomy–back then, they would yank those babies out in a heartbeat).
I was standing by a blow-up swimming pool, and the other kids wouldn’t let me in.
Theres a photo of my standing by one, and it was dated when I was 1 and a half years old.
I was about a year old, lying in my bed when the ugliest puppet of a monkey popped it’s head up on the other side of my bedroom window.
It was foaming from the mouth and had horribly long pointy teeth. It was all around, mean looking.
The monkey pointed to something on his side of the window, so I got up to see what it was. My family was out there, and they were all walking away from me. I called and called, but they just kept walking away into that field, completely oblivious that I had this devil-monkey at my window.
I was horrified of monkeys until my family realized how unhealthy it was and got me Bogey for my third birthday.
I remember the whir of the air pump in the hyperbaric incubator, and the whooosh of escaping gasses as the Chief Bioengineer opened the top and extracted me, fully formed but as yet unprogrammed from the chamber. Ah, those first heady moments as the narco-drugs were purged from my system and I began to run the test sequences prior to full startup…
ehhh… wait a sec, that was Al Gore’s first memory…
Actually, my first memory is from 1960, two years old, standing on a beach in Key West, wanting to dig in the sand near the water (blue sky reflecting from the foam) but being told by my mother “No, honey, the water’s polluted from the storm.” I didn’t know what polluted meant, but I knew there sure was a lot of junk on the beach…
*SwimmingRiddles: When I was 2, we went to DC. The whole thing is very vivid for me…
We went to the White House. This was terribly exciting. Around this same time, the government of China donated two panda bears to the US, Ling Ling and Sing Sing. As President Regan was the one to accept them, I assumed the pandas were his. And since we were going to his house, it was logical to assume that the pandas would be there. I expected them to have modified dog houses, and that I would get to play with them. Imagine my disppointment when there were NO pandas.*
Sorry to burst your bubble, but it was Nixon who was Prez when China gave us the pandas.
From Friends of the National Zoo Website: