I don't remember how old I was, but I was definately a youngin'. Anyways, I remember my mom going outside to get something out of her car and my brother and I were pressed up against the screen door of the house looking out at her. My first memory wasn't much, but that's it.

While we're at it, what was your first word?

:Smiley259 I can't recall..:Smiley233

Actually, I think it's the moments that are traumatizing stand out the most..

I remember my dad was really abusive.. my mom was trying to leave and she told me and my sister to run to the car.. my mom gets in and starts screaming, lock the doors.. I was terrified, we were in the backseat and my Dad ( who until that day had been my 'hero', my 'daddy') starts pounding on the window and the door ( that I had just pushed the button down) and screams F You, I hate you! over and over.. at me.. I think I was about 4.

Next big memory, Dad gets into a motorcycle accident, half his face was gone from the nose down.... I stayed at my neighbors house and had tomato soup.

Another fond memory on my 8th birthday, Dad gets mad ( divorced by this time but comes over to 'celebrate' my birthday) and tries to kill my mom with a knife, stabs her in the thumb and hand while I'm in the middle of them both trying to talk sense into him. Happy Birthday.

Oh, last but not least, shows up at Christmas with his new daughter, hands us a few stuffed animals and new daughter ( about 3 or 4) says "Daddy, why are you giving them my old toys?" Merry Christmas.

He wonders now why I don't speak to him?

Fun, fun memories.. not. I don't like to think about them.

My dad giving a cat a pill... (see other thread)

Seriously, my first memory is of my Grandfather. My mom's dad. He would sit outside the house with us and watch traffic. When he would see a semi he would say "there goes a biggin." Plus, I remember him in his bedroom smoking a pipe.

The strange thing is I was three when he died. Plus, my cousin, who lived with him, does not remember this. And I am only four six days shy of being four months older than my cousin.

My first memory is from when I was about 2, being pushed in a swing-set in my grandparents back yard. My Dad and my Grandpa were there.

According to my mom, my first word, sadly, was Coke. Yes I've always been a big fan of Coca Cola. Yes I still drink it. No, Mom wasn't offended. :)

I have memories as fat back as my younger brother being born. I was about 3 months shy of 3 at the time. My memory is clear from about 4.5 on. I'm now 30.

Actually, my memory of 4,5, and 6 is clearer to me than my memory of 24, 25, and 26.

dismayed,

My first word was Coke!

We must be related or twins separated at birth .. or our parents had a drug habit.. just kidding.. but my Grandma gave me 7-up which I called Coke.

I think I remember 2nd grade I dont remember much about it, but I got swats in school in 2nd grade and boy do I remember what I did and who gave them to me... lol

sure was nasty coming out of that womb, all wet and stuff

sure was nasty coming out of that womb, all wet and stuff

Actually "LOL"'d on that one. Mwahahaha.

I dont think it's my first memory because I remember so many things from when I was little. Like, a lot, and I remember more and more when I think about it. Sadly, it happens to be more and more bad memories. Repressed? Anyway, my mom told me I was 3 when this happened so I thought this might be it. I wanted to take a bath and my grandma kept telling me to hold on. Well I went and turned the water on myself and ran myself a full bath tub of water and turned it off. Unfortunately I didnt turn on the cold and the water in the tub was scoulding hot. She made me take a bath in it because she was mad at me. I can't remember the hurting part of it, I just remember always thinking it was right because I did something I was told not to and I was being punished. But when I asked my mom about it finally a few months ago she told me my aunt had walked in when I was in there screaming and took me out of the bath and I wasn't taken back over there for quite some time.

I dont know how old I was in this one, at least 4 probably, but I remember staying at my grandma's house and my mom dropping me off and leaving. I remember screaming and crying and looking out the back bedroom window yelling mom come back. I cant remember what car she was driving but I still remember the red sweater she wore that day. I am pretty sure that was the last time I ever asked for her. Just dawned on me, but that might be the age I gave up on that aspect of life.