first memories

Violet is getting to that age now; the age when she will acquire her “first memory.” You know… the one she’ll recall as an adult. So of course I’ve added this to my Pile o’ Things to Worry About. Obviously I hope her first memory will be warm and fuzzy: tending the garden, baking cookies, playing with Graham, tickle torture. And I dread that her first memory may be sad or scary: angry parents, injuries, mean kids, nightmares. I do realize I have no control over this; but I am on a mission to curb Scary Angry Mom, just in case.

Most likely it will be something totally random and innocuous. My first memory is standing by my brother’s high chair looking at our shag carpet. I must have been about three.

How about you? What was your first memory? How old were you? It’s been awfully quiet out there, so I thought I’d ask.

11 responses to “first memories”

  1. Mom/Granny

    First memory eight million years ago…looking at the metal stairs of the apartment my parents first rented when we moved from Georgia to California. There was a celery field across the parking lot, an old black 40s car parked in the lot. I was 3.

  2. Karl Shewry

    I was about 3. My father was/is a big auto racing fan, so when I was younger we went to many races. Not Nascar. Anyway, as I said I was about 3, and I am eating potato chips out of the bag, as the cars scream by me on a curve. What is cool, is that my family has photographs from that exact moment.

  3. Rob L.

    Mom drops me off at the kids’ playroom at her tennis club. I have been given a bag of plain M&M’s to enjoy and instructions to share with the other kids. Most of the kids who approach ask “Can I have?” and, while I don’t really mind sharing, I feel some sort of very deep annoyance at their question, which just seems incomplete without “one” or “some” (let alone “please”) at the end of the sentence.

    Yes, this memory probably confirms I am most certainly a black-hearted, terrible human being at the core.

    I’m assuming I was 3 or 4; if you’d posted this yesterday I could’ve confirmed with my Mom 🙂

  4. Katrina

    Waking up in bed, sweaty hot, books nearby, sun shining through the window.

    I was somewhere 2-3, summer in Alabama, waking from a nap after having been the recipient of many, many fire ant bites. Mom dressed me in knit cap, sweater, knit pants, socks and mittens so I wouldn’t scratch at my bites.

  5. Kristen

    I think a lot of early “memories” comes from the stories we are told time and time again..or the photos we have to look back on. However, my first memory might be climbing into my parents bed and listening to the story of a little girl who was adopted by a family that loved her so much…the story of me. I’m not sure how many mornings like that we shared, but I remember how special I felt.

    Don’t worry about the scary Mommy moments…just keep having good times and take lots of pictures of those happy days!

  6. Chris

    You mean they’re not going to remember the last 4 years!?!? I think we tried too hard then 🙂
    My first memory – Rob correcting my grammar at the tennis club 🙂
    Just give me the damn M&M’s!

  7. Cecil

    Golden November sunshine, riding a red tricycle through deep, crunchy leaves, while my grandma fretted at the back door…she was with us because my mom was at the hospital giving birth to my 3rd sibling.
    I was 3 and a half.
    Chats with my grown daughters reveal that few of my ‘manufactured memories’ during their childhood are viewed in the same light. I may have stressed for days before an outing…trying to cover every eating, sleeping, playing contingent…and all they remember is, “that’s the time Uncle John got the bee in his beer can”!!!
    And the best part of any ‘scary mommy’ memory they may have is the part where you hold them close and say, “I’m sorry…”

  8. Uncle Joe

    The earliest memories are fuzzy visions of colors, shapes and objects. Small moments like laying in a crib looking at the yellow light filter through the pulled down vinyl shades on the window.
    But I can distinctly remember coming through the back door at Aunt Mary’s house in Meridian Idaho. I entered the living room and a scene from Close Encounters of the Third Kind was playing on the television. I was four.

  9. Stacy Curtis

    My earliest memory is from when I was about 2.5 years old–I hid in a cabinet. I have a vague recollection of what it was like looking out from the cabinet, but no other emotional impressions. The first emotional memory I have is from about a year later. Our back yard backed up to a house where two little girls lived–Heather and Noel. We used to meet at the back fence and do somersaults together in the grass.

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