What's your earliest memory?

And how old were you when you had it?
My family lived in an apartment until I was 4 or 5 years old. I have absolutely NO memories of the apartment. In fact, my earliest memory is probably being 4 or 5, sitting in the dining room, listening to the soundtrack of The Sound of Music and singing along with it at the top of my voice.
I’m interested to find out if others have earlier memories, and if anyone remembers infancy. I know that memories from early childhood are usually patchy because the brain processed things differently or something. (sorry I don’t have a cite, I just remember reading that in a book somewhere!)

I do have vague memories of potty training, when I was two years old. The trainer toilet was under the wall clock in the dining room of my house – strange location, I know. A few snippets from when I was three, and far more when I was four – playmates, my first dog, weekly trips to Burger King, and so on.

I remember being at some family friends house in Arkansas and they had a horse, and I watched them feed the horse apples and carrots.Seeing the horses big teeth scarred me something awful. I can actually remember sitting in my pops 58 chevy screaming my head off because I was so afraid. That was in the summer of '63, 4 months before I turned 3 years old.

The earliest thing I can remember concerns a toy I received as a Christmas gift. My Mom says I was about three at the time. Apparently Santa left me a mechanical turtle, all it did was walk across the floor moving its head. I was horrified by the thing. I distinctly remember running into the kitchen to hide behind the refrigerator whenever anyone wound up the monstrosity. I can’t exactly remember why I thought it was so awful though. I also received a stuffed skunk that year which I loved. But it didn’t move or anything. :slight_smile:

Very vague memory of being delighted with an inflatable airplane about the size of me. Age unknown, probably 2ish-3ish as I was in diapers.

Much clearer memories of preschool. Playing outside with shadows, and the shock of suddenly realizing how they worked. Inside playing with sets of colored blocks–you know the ones, red rectangular pieces, tall yellow cylinders, short purple cylinders. The little purple cylinder ones I’d just had a brainflash on, and was treating as action figures. The teacher/toddler-wrangler seemed very impressed I made that sort of leap of imagination. I didn’t quite explain the full game though–the little people were leaping off cliffs on my command, you see. (I think I was probably doing a much-larger scale Wile E. Coyote-esque adventure.)

Most of the research I have seen on this indicates that most people’s earliest memory is between ages 2 and 3. Mine is much later–I remember a goodbye party that was thrown for me when I moved to Saudi Arabia when I was just ending first grade, so I must have been 6 or so. Hmmm…maybe that is the first indication of the poor memory I have now.

I have a couple of memories from when I was two of riding one of those springy rocking horses at my grandmother’s house while my grandparents and Mom talked in the kitchen and one when I fell on some broken glass on the porch and cut my knee up pretty bad.

Yet I have absolutely no recollection of my Grandfather’s funeral, which pictures tell me I did attend when I was four, even though I do remember him being taken to the hospotal and his death.

My earliest memory is of running off of the top of the stairs in our living room. You know when Wile E. Coyote runs off of the edge of a cliff and holds up a sign before he falls? It felt just like that. I was less than 2 years old at the time. Probably closer to 1 year, since I was running before my first birthday (much to the annoyance of my mother).

I remember my first birthday party. I wore a lovely pastel green dress, and the cake had balloons made of icing on it.
My Grandma gave me an emerald ring. Not a real one, but one from the gum machine.
Mom put it away until I was old enough to not eat it.


Earliest thing I can remember, 2 or 3, waking up & stretching, & just thouroghly enjoying it. It just feels so good to streeetch! Another was being surprised at seeing my mom’s big toe. I must have had a dream that Jaws had bitten off my mom’s big toe. We talked about it I vaguely remember.

Playing in my great-grandparents apartment. I remember being able to walk under the dining room table-I used to keep all my dolls under there.

I was probably about two and a half-three years old at the time.

I can still remember exactly how the apartment was laid out to this day. Twenty seven years later I can still describe it.

My earliest memory is waking up in my cot (crib) when I was 18 months old. I called for Mum, and she didn’t come, and I started to panic and called again, and this time she came in. I was so glad to see her.
I remember my first night in my “big girl’s bed”, when I was 2. I remember staying at my Aunt’s house the night my brother was born (one month before I turned 3), and having tomato soup for dinner. I hate tomato soup, and I got very rebellious about it. I remember meeting my grandmother and aunt while shopping - I was in my stroller at the time. Mum says that was when my aunt had just become a licenced driver, so she would have been 18, making me less than 3 (Mum was probably pregnant).
I have a lot of memories from before the age of 5, including playgroup at age 3, kinder at age 4 (I remember the photographer taking the photos that are in my kindy album!), I remember orientation day at my school before I started there.
I once met a chatty bus driver who told me that he could remember nothing at all before he was 8 or 9 years old - at that age his abusive father left for good. It does seem that all the people I ever knew who had bad childhoods have much later memories. Comparatively, mine must have been ecstatic. :smiley:

One of my very earliest memories is of being on my grandmother’s lap as I traveled across the lower deck of the San Francisco bay bridge on the old Key System trollies that used to traverse the span. I could only have been two or three years old at the time.

I can remember standing in my crib and the patterns of woodwork on the wall, also the shapes of my brother’s toys.

In fact, my memory is so good, I can remember the night I went out with my father and came home with my mother.


My absolute first memory is from either my second or third birthday party (weird, huh?). I was in the sunroom of what was then my family’s house, receiving gifts. Pretty good first memory, don’t you think?

What’s actually a bit strange is that immediately before that, I remember experiencing a split second of quiet blackness (before being in a bright and noisy room). That’s always puzzled me. I have no memories whatsoever before that. Did anyone else experience something like this?

I remember being given a blue scooter when I was 3 & some things about my grandad & he died when I was three, also a rope ladder up a tree at kindergarten. A friend who went to the same one only remembers the huge shaggy dog that they had there.

My earliest memory is from when I was 2 years old. I was in a department store with my mom, sitting in the shopping cart, and begging her for a Miss Piggy bean bag doll. She eventually relented, and I got my toy.

I have and almost dreamlike recollection of our house at Ft. Sam Houston, TX, and my mother and baby sister coming home from the hospital. My sister is two years, three months younger than I am. We left Ft. Sam when I was less than four years old. I distinctly remember German POWs doing the yard work, under guard.

My first memory is sitting on the kitchen floor, drinking out of my Mickey Mouse sippy cup. I can remember it like yesterday. Since I hadn’t yet graduated to actual cups and I was still in diapers, I’d put my age at a little over one.

Man, I loved that Mickey Mouse sippy cup. I wonder where it went to?

My first memory is sitting on the kitchen floor, drinking out of my Mickey Mouse sippy cup. I can remember it like was yesterday. Since I hadn’t yet graduated to actual cups and I was still in diapers, I’d put my age at a little over one.

Man, I loved that Mickey Mouse sippy cup. I wonder where it went to?

I was in diapers, padding around my Aunt and Uncle’s kitchen, when my Uncle Johnny thought it would be funny to slip an ice cube down the back of my diaper.
I turned around and looked up at him, and, searching through my very limited vocabulary, said “Thank you.”
I remember being very pleased with myself when everybody laughed.

I’ve been a smart-ass ever since.