The first memory I can recall from my childhood had to be when I was about three or four. When I was younger, it was easier for my mom to just give my sister and I our baths at the same time. Every night, we'd hop in the tub, take our baths, and play with our toys. One night in particular, though, she didn't want to play with me. Rather, her face got all scrunched up and she didn't really say much of anything. I was very confused as to why she was acting the way she was, but as I looked down, I suddenly knew. She had pooped. The water began to float it in my direction and I hopped out of that tub as quick as I could. Why is that my first memory? I'm not really sure. It could because of how traumatizing it was, or it could simply be that my parents told me that one many times and kept it reinforced. I'd say I'm mediocre at recalling early memories. I think I can recall the ones I can because they’ve been reinforced with pictures, videos, and a lot of repetition. Others, not so much. Most of the ones I can recall have somewhat to do with a lesson I've learned or a relationship I've made, just like the article said. I think parents play a huge part in building their child's memory. For the most part, my parents did a pretty decent job of keeping my memories intact. My cut off age is still three or four, however. Perhaps if we had talked about them a little more, I might still have them in memory bank today. For now, I'll have to settle with the earliest lessons I learned: baths are better taken alone, and little sisters are unpredictable.
I remember few things from my childhood. Why, I'm not quite sure? Maybe it's because everyday seemed the same? Wake up, play with my lambs as mom did the chores, and then go to the babysitters. Everything was pretty simple back in those days, however there is one night that stands out in my mind. I was three years old and Mom and I had just gotten home for the day. After dropping my little backpack in the kitchen, I ran upstairs to play with my toys, or something of that nature. The later it got the hungrier I became. It seemed like every three minutes I would yell to mom who was trying to make dinner in peace, "Is dinner ready mommy?" My consistent nagging probably went on for a good half an hour before my "accident." Finally after waiting and waiting for what felt like hours to three year old me, I went to the top of the stairs and tried to peak down. I use the word "try" because my plan didn't exactly work out the way I had imagined. I was perched on the second from the top stair right where I could see what was cooking on the stove and hoped mom couldn't see me. There were peas boiling on one burner. As I opened my mouth to comment on the smell of the peas and ask yet again when dinner would be ready, I slipped. All that came out was "Mmm that smel..." and a large thud as I toppled down a flight of stairs. My slippery socks were no match for the sleek wooden stairs and the hard tile waiting for me at the bottom. I remember mommy's ear wrenching scream and some blood but that's about it. Needless to say, my head caught my fall and I managed to crack it open, or so my parents tell me. Dad blames this night for my lack of common sense at times, however I believe it's the reason I hate peas and to this day haven't eaten a single one since that night. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I hadn't been so inpatient or if it wasn't for the stinking peas, if this would have happened. As I have grown up, I have to come to realize that there is a purpose for everything in life both good and bad. The good tend to come with a smile, and the bad occasionally a few tears but always a lesson. Maybe I remember that night for the trauma involved, or maybe it's because each lesson in life has shaped who I am today and I sure learned my lesson about socks, slippery stairs, and patients.
I can’t really remember a lot from my childhood, the memory i will always remember was very traumatic. When I was just 4 years old I was playing outside with my younger cousin on the swingset, my grandma had just came up from Florida to visit. My cousin was on the swingset and I wanted a turn so I reached my hand out to stop her and the bolt from the swingset cut my ring finger off. It was bleeding all over I remember banging on the door trying to get my moms attention. Mom called 991 and when they got there to pick us up they wanted to know where my finger was, so my grandma had to go find it… well my dog had it. And when we got to the hospital the doctor threw my finger in the garbage and my mom screamed at him until he took it out and re-attached it. I don’t think i'll ever forget that day, my finger nail grew back weird so i will always have something to remember it by. What really confuses me though is that when I was almost 7 my family went to Disney World and I don’t remember anything from that. I wouldn't have even know we went if there wasn’t pictures, but Disney World that is a pretty exciting thing for a 7 year old girl… how do i not remember that? In the article it says something about talking to your kids helps their memory form and my mom talked to me a lot growing up. I still talk to my mom about everything. But i don't remember a lot from my childhood. So i don't think that quote is true and or accurate at all. My mom has many pictures from when i was growing up though and after i look at the pictures a while i feel like i can recall what was happening, This article had some good and bad points in my opinion, but i enjoyed it.
The first memory I can recall from my childhood had to be when I was about three or four. When I was younger, it was easier for my mom to just give my sister and I our baths at the same time. Every night, we'd hop in the tub, take our baths, and play with our toys. One night in particular, though, she didn't want to play with me. Rather, her face got all scrunched up and she didn't really say much of anything. I was very confused as to why she was acting the way she was, but as I looked down, I suddenly knew. She had pooped. The water began to float it in my direction and I hopped out of that tub as quick as I could. Why is that my first memory? I'm not really sure. It could because of how traumatizing it was, or it could simply be that my parents told me that one many times and kept it reinforced. I'd say I'm mediocre at recalling early memories. I think I can recall the ones I can because they’ve been reinforced with pictures, videos, and a lot of repetition. Others, not so much. Most of the ones I can recall have somewhat to do with a lesson I've learned or a relationship I've made, just like the article said. I think parents play a huge part in building their child's memory. For the most part, my parents did a pretty decent job of keeping my memories intact. My cut off age is still three or four, however. Perhaps if we had talked about them a little more, I might still have them in memory bank today. For now, I'll have to settle with the earliest lessons I learned: baths are better taken alone, and little sisters are unpredictable.
ReplyDeleteI remember few things from my childhood. Why, I'm not quite sure? Maybe it's because everyday seemed the same? Wake up, play with my lambs as mom did the chores, and then go to the babysitters. Everything was pretty simple back in those days, however there is one night that stands out in my mind. I was three years old and Mom and I had just gotten home for the day. After dropping my little backpack in the kitchen, I ran upstairs to play with my toys, or something of that nature. The later it got the hungrier I became. It seemed like every three minutes I would yell to mom who was trying to make dinner in peace, "Is dinner ready mommy?" My consistent nagging probably went on for a good half an hour before my "accident." Finally after waiting and waiting for what felt like hours to three year old me, I went to the top of the stairs and tried to peak down. I use the word "try" because my plan didn't exactly work out the way I had imagined. I was perched on the second from the top stair right where I could see what was cooking on the stove and hoped mom couldn't see me. There were peas boiling on one burner. As I opened my mouth to comment on the smell of the peas and ask yet again when dinner would be ready, I slipped. All that came out was "Mmm that smel..." and a large thud as I toppled down a flight of stairs. My slippery socks were no match for the sleek wooden stairs and the hard tile waiting for me at the bottom. I remember mommy's ear wrenching scream and some blood but that's about it. Needless to say, my head caught my fall and I managed to crack it open, or so my parents tell me. Dad blames this night for my lack of common sense at times, however I believe it's the reason I hate peas and to this day haven't eaten a single one since that night. Sometimes I look back and wonder if I hadn't been so inpatient or if it wasn't for the stinking peas, if this would have happened. As I have grown up, I have to come to realize that there is a purpose for everything in life both good and bad. The good tend to come with a smile, and the bad occasionally a few tears but always a lesson. Maybe I remember that night for the trauma involved, or maybe it's because each lesson in life has shaped who I am today and I sure learned my lesson about socks, slippery stairs, and patients.
ReplyDeleteI can’t really remember a lot from my childhood, the memory i will always remember was very traumatic. When I was just 4 years old I was playing outside with my younger cousin on the swingset, my grandma had just came up from Florida to visit. My cousin was on the swingset and I wanted a turn so I reached my hand out to stop her and the bolt from the swingset cut my ring finger off. It was bleeding all over I remember banging on the door trying to get my moms attention. Mom called 991 and when they got there to pick us up they wanted to know where my finger was, so my grandma had to go find it… well my dog had it. And when we got to the hospital the doctor threw my finger in the garbage and my mom screamed at him until he took it out and re-attached it. I don’t think i'll ever forget that day, my finger nail grew back weird so i will always have something to remember it by. What really confuses me though is that when I was almost 7 my family went to Disney World and I don’t remember anything from that. I wouldn't have even know we went if there wasn’t pictures, but Disney World that is a pretty exciting thing for a 7 year old girl… how do i not remember that? In the article it says something about talking to your kids helps their memory form and my mom talked to me a lot growing up. I still talk to my mom about everything. But i don't remember a lot from my childhood. So i don't think that quote is true and or accurate at all. My mom has many pictures from when i was growing up though and after i look at the pictures a while i feel like i can recall what was happening, This article had some good and bad points in my opinion, but i enjoyed it.
ReplyDelete