What is your first memory?

Gracie

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Feb 13, 2013
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Mine is my mom changing my diapers in front of the neighbor. I was embarrassed.
 
Oh come on. The first thought that your baby brain actually remembers even now? Nobody? Just snarky responses?
 
I remember splashing in a wading pool - it was hot!
 
Honestly?

I was 2 or 3 and I was upstairs taking a bubble bath when my mom started calling me.
I didn't answer.
I waited until I heard her coming up the stairs, still calling me, and sunk down in the bubbles - just staring up through the bubbles.
She freak.
I laughed.
She spanked my wet ass
:lol:
 
I remember standing up in my crib, my crib was in my parent's bedroom. My two older sisters were laying on my parent's bed gossiping. That was my memory. I guess I was about 1 yr.
 
I remember splashing in a wading pool - it was hot!
:lol: Those wading pools were about useless.

I meant the weather was hot! We had the itty bitty pool for years; it ended its days as a pool for our baby ducklings.

My other early memory is of letting a parakeet out of a cage, and screaming in terror as it sat on my head.
 
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I am not sure what was my first memory, but I can remember things like not being able to reach light switches. I also remember trying to push open a screen door to go outside, but not being able to because it was latched.
 
I remember throwing crayon pieces (I didn't have whole crayons) at the wall in my bedroom and being fascinated by the little color marks they made.
After a short while my father came in and told me stop and go ask mom for something to clean it up with.
It was too much ... I kept throwing the crayon pieces at the wall making my picture bigger little by little.
My father came back a little while later and told me if I didn't stop he would give me a spanking.

By his account ... He said I looked at the crayon piece in my hand and then back at him before asking ... "How many times?"
I remember it because he started laughing and it surprised me.

.
 
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I remember throwing crayon pieces (I didn't have whole crayons) at the wall in my bedroom and being fascinated by the little color marks they made.
After a short while my father came in and told me stop and go ask mom for something to clean it up with.
It was to much ... I kept throwing the crayon pieces at the wall making my picture bigger little by little.
My father came back a little while later and told me if I didn't stop he would give me a spanking.

By his account ... He said I looked at the crayon piece in my hand and then back at him before asking ... "How many times?"
I remember it because he started laughing and it surprised me.

.


When I was a teenager, I babysat a very busy little girl with a fondness for drawing (in marking pen) on her bedroom wall. Her mother kept paint on hand to cover it up. Said little girl then decided to color her bedspread.
 
My father was in the military and was assigned to Germany for 3 years. He left the states a couple of months ahead of us and found a house on the Army base.

So my mother, brother (2), and me (3), had to take an ocean liner across the Atlantic to join our father.

All I remember is laying in bed so sea sick I could barely walk.

And to this day I can't even take a rowboat boat ride on a calm lake without getting nauseous. ...... :cool:
 
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Mine is my mom changing my diapers in front of the neighbor. I was embarrassed.

My first confirmed memory was riding a friend's Big Wheel one foot on, one off like and loosing my grip and falling backwards smacking my head on the sidewalk.

Memory's a tricky thing and memories supposedly before age 5 are unlikely as long-term memory capability hasn't really taken hold yet. Are always exceptions, but remembering being diaper changed is incredibly unlikely. More likely you remember seeing someone being changed and are transplanting a legit memory for one of your own or some combination of mixed memories becomming your own. I could swear I remember the elevated table and carpety texture of the baby picture I'm in but I understand that that's not at all likely and I probably encountered such a table later in life and made the connection between it and the one I'm pictured in and transplanted the real memory for one from childhood.
 
My first memory was when I awoke from a drunken stupor and realized I was making my first post at USMB.




It was then that I knew I had arrived.
 

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