Let’s Play A Game

Thanks for the sympathy, Patty, but you the one who went through a lot. Glad you turned out well adjusted.

I was pretty lucky. My parents kept any turbulence out of our lives and made it into their 80s, as did most of my aunts and uncles. I didn't have any elder care responsibilities until I was past 50. So I had an easy run until that time, and nothing but pleasant memories growing up. My parents both had it rough in the Depression and during the War, but they worked hard to spare us any harsh realities and conflict. Wasn't easy on their income.

@ Harry: While I've got friends that call me sMiles, I haven't spent much time in Texas, so I doubt I'm the sMiles you are thinking of. I'm up in the Pacific Northwest in Eugene, Oregon.

I have observed that children who have good language skills tend to be able to recall events that happened earlier in their lives because they have the language at that time to code onto those events and to store them in memory with a way to retrieve them. As a speech/language pathologist, I work with kids with varying levels of language skills and those with good language skills also have better recall for distant events.
I can recall being potty trained and that must have been before I was two. I know I was trained by then per my older sister's report --- she was glad not to have secondary diaper duty anymore. I can remember a photographer coming to the house to take a portrait of me at about age two. I remember my older brother's friend coming over dressed as Santa; he was doing it for his nieces & nephews and came to our house to surprise me too. I was almost three at that time and wondered why Santa drove Ray's car.
I can also "remember" a house that my family lived in and which was torn down seven years before I was born. Hearing everyone talk about it, I had such vivid pictures in my head that when they would talk about it, I'd chime in that I remembered it too. Rationally I know that i never saw it, but to this day I feel as if I had been there.

That is kind of like after having seen the Zapruder film over and over during my life I find it hard to fathom that JFK died 7 months and one day before I was born.

I remember being potty trained, which happened before I was two per my older sister's account -- she was glad to not have to help with diaper duty! I remember a photographer coming to the house to take a portrait of me and my (much) older brother's friend coming over dressed as Santa (he was doing so to entertain his nieces and nephews and stopped at our house to surprise me too) and wondering why Santa drove Ray's car. I remember going to a storybook garden with my grandpa, who died when I was only three.
I have noticed that kids who have good language skills early on have better memories for distant events. Working as a speech-language pathologist, I deal with kids who have a wide range of language skills and those who have strong skills are much better at remembering things that happened long ago and have a better sense of time as to when they happened. They have the language to code onto those events as they occur at early ages and to label them for more effective retrieval later on.

Sorry about the double post--- the first one didn't show up so I re-typed. OOPS!

I remember the entrance hallway of my grandfather's house. He died when I was 3 and the house was sold, but I have a vivid recollection of a copper umbrella stand and a diamond-shaped stained glass window in the front door. I was fascinated by the green shadow it cast onto the floor.

I have very few memories from my childhood. Don't know why. My earliest memory is of a nightmare, in which I was a baby laying on the kitchen countertop, being eaten by a huge bug. Fast forward to 5 years old, and how much it hurt having to straighten my arm out for an X-ray to see if my elbow was broken. It was. Plaster from armpit to knuckles for 6 weeks. But that was OK, because the cast made a great weapon to smack the kid who'd pushed me down in recess.

My wife remembers being held in her mother's arm while being bottle fed, because the cow's milk they had switched her to didn't taste as good as formula.

That nightmare might be a distant memory of being laid on the counter and a fly or something landing on you. If it frightened you then it may have made an impression.

Or his dad might have been seeing if he had any aptitude with the pipes.
:lol:

My earliest memory was a grown man making a formal apology to me, at the behest of my infuriated but normally equable dad. The man, a Mr. Campbell, had made reference to my port-wine stain birthmark as "the mark of the beast" and said that I should be killed. The confusing matter was explained to me as being a painful experience, and I was afraid of all Campbells for years.

I have several early memories from before I was 18 months old. I remember the sheep we had penned outside our front door, the neighbors house to the left of our house, the bright yellow paint in the kitchen. I also remember the farm machines that were outside and to the right of the house. To this day my memory does not have a name for those machines, but I can recall the picture. Then I can describe the machines in detail, but not name them.
ScoutC, your theory is interesting, but would not apply to my detailed memory. I do not have words associated with the memories, and I can't think of any reason these memories remain firm pictures.
This was a great topic. Thanks.

I was very interested to read everyone's comments!!! Especially after reading the comment which said that usually, children who do have language skills also tend to have an easier time piecing together memories. Fascinating! I learned to speak very early, and was reading and writing by age 2. On the other hand, my husband, who was almost completely deaf until age 5, can recollect very few memories from before the age of 8. That was 3 years after his hearing was corrected at last, and 4 years after beginning speech and language therapy. We talk about our memories all the time.

I remember MANY things from being very, very young. One that sticks out right now is when all of the grandchildren of the family were asked to help decorate a 40th Anniversary poster for my Grandma and Grandpa. This was August of 1990, I had turned 2 that same June. We were all excited to make them a surprise when they returned from their special trip to Hawaii. I proudly wrote "Wilcome Home! Love, Robin" in alternating pink and purple crayon under their wedding photo, and dotted all of my "i's" with flowers so it would look nice. My aunt came up behind me as I finished coloring and said, "You spelled 'Welcome' wrong" and walked away. I felt so embarrassed.
Her own son's "signature" was just a scribble next to mine, so when I look back on it now, maybe she was feeling insecure while comparing my (abnormal) abilities to those of her (perfectly normal) son? But still--criticizing a baby's spelling? Seriously?! Wow...

The poster hangs in my grandparents' garage even now, as a reminder to us all of my infinite superiority. :p

Wow, some great stories guys! I knew this thread would become interesting. Anybody else?

i remember my first day of kindergarten. i was 4 years old and going to school a year early because i had taught myself to read. i had always been called Sissy but the first day of school the teacher called me Treva, and i remember putting my hands on my hips and telling the teacher she was a damn liar for calling me that tree word! my name is Sissy! well to say the least i was sent to the principles office and my mother was called! in my defense, maybe they should have told me my real name BEFORE sending me to school! after that i wouldn't answer to Sissy ever again!

A "teacher's" inability and/or unwillingness to deal with a 4yo's rant speaks volumes about the 'educational' system.