What’s your earliest memory as child and what age

1 Was at home in Leicester probably about 3 yrs and I had got hold of my mothers lipstick and the window cleaner and my mum were laughing at me through the window.
Come to think of it I was never very good at getting my lipstick on properly.

I was 3 and had just broken my elbow by putting it in the washing machine while it was spinning. I remember my mother switching off the machine and then carrying me up to neighbours driveway to get help. I remember telling her to put me down as I could walk. I spent a while in hospital as I needed several operations to fix the break. The boy in the bed next to me was called Timmy and we had ice cream and jelly to eat.

Jumping out of my pushchair the footrest of which ran into my ankles, my mother shouting at me for it. I must have been 2 years old and my mother pregnant with my younger brother. I was excited about moving into our new house. Apparently we were living in a shed until the house became available. While my dad was hunting for a job she had lived with me in the family home in Ireland. I have no memories of those times.

Sitting on a hard bench with a curtain in front of it, on my mothers lap having an injection.

I remember coming home from hospital after having my tonsils out I was about 3. We had a taxi and the smell of the leather seats sticks in my memory and comes back whenever I smell leather.

I always wonder what’s true and what is remembering from photographs? I distinctly remember being sat in our big pram in our back yard near the toilet door with a frilly white hat on and hand knitted cardigan and having my photo taken. I’ve got the photo and I must be 12-18 months old I guess but I don’t really trust this memory as I could be imagining I remember it? Other than that, it was having double pneumonia a year or so later and being in my bed next to mum and dad’s bed and the doctor coming to see me and everyone was concerned. I naughtily tried to switch the bedside light on after it had been switched off and burning my arm against the hot light bulb, still got the scar.

A train journey from Ayrshire to Fife to see my GPs. Not sure when this was, but must have been before my little sister was born when I was just under 3. I remember her birth very well. I spent the night round the corner at Granny's and was woken in the morning by my aunt telling me that I had a new sister. I was taken to see her in my parents' bedroom and was able to hold her. I can remember the smell of baby powder and mum's milk and the baby's lovely curly brown hair. A painful memory is breaking my arm at 3, jumping on (or off) Granny's sofa. Strangely, I remember the glorious sunset over the Firth of Clyde as we made our way home by taxi.

Much to my parents horror I was a dab hand at rolling cigarettes for one of our neighbours. I remember sitting on the step deftly making his fags with a wee silver machine! We moved to a new house before I was at school, so was probably about 3-4.

Being in a push chair.
Starting school at 4.
Hiding under a table with my gran as bombers came over inWorld War 2. Must have been about 3 or 4.

I remember my 1st birthday where we had a big tea-party. I was in my highchair behind the door and diagonally across the table was a big lady that I now know was my Auntie Lil. I must have been shy even at that early age because I nearly slid down out of my chair when everyone was singing and looking at me.

I certainly remember starting school and being upset because we all had to lie on the floor on rush matting to have an afternoon nap.
But before that, I remember walking down a street in Plymouth where I was born and holdling someone's hand. This was before Plymouth was bombed in the war and rebuilt later. I remember the old buildings.

I can remember being lifted up at a big wall-my dear Dad was in hospital with kidney problems before my dear sister’s birth when I was 22 months old so can’t have been very old.
DH remembers being in his pram and snow blowing past his face. He was born end of August so can only have been a few months old.

I was sitting in my TanSad pram and Mum walked away from me to take a photo and I thought she was going to leave me and cried.

When Mum and I were talking about my childhood (I'd be in my 40's then) and recalled this, she went to fetch the photo and I look to be about 6-7 months old. I wasn't crying but I am frowning. No suprises there then

Gillybob - I think you should ask him! You can always make it light-hearted. However, I suppose he will say he can't remember that it ever happened, parents do tend to deny any wrongdoing when questioned in later life! ?

Well my Mrs Kershaw was probably around 50 when I was 4 which would make her about 104 now Fennel so it couldn't possibly be you I remember can it ? Also she spoke in a very posh (certainly not Geordie) accent.

Yes the awful things always stick don’t they CurlyWhirly ? I often wonder if he can remember it . I would love to ask him but don’t have the courage even now at my age. Silly isn’t it ?

Wonderful GrannyLaine

My clearest memory is of my Dad holding me wrapped in my shawl by the back door at night, watching big flakes of snow coming down. I really don't know how old I was, one or two perhaps. The magic has always stayed with me.

Jeez Louise

Awful wasn't it Newquay We were grubby kids too. No bathroom, no toothbrushes, my head used to be alive with lice. When I was about 7, a nurse called me out of the classroom and without a word, took me outside where there was a large transit van. She opened the back doors, told me to get in and shut the doors. There were no windows and I was alone. When the van stopped, I was taken into a place that smelled of what I now know to be methylated spirits. They did something to my head (I know realise it was delousing), put me back in the van and took me back to school. No explanation. Happy days (not). Sorry to bring the thread down. More happy stories please.

Oh Katy-my dear sister was smacked, aged about 5, cos she’d sucked the end of cotton to thread a needle-told she was a dirty little girl. We probably were grubby living in slums without bathroom. In later years we saw her in the local press as a president of something or other-would have loved to have confronted her. . .

Yes indeed.

That is awful Katy - what an awful thing for that teacher to do

I remember being about aged 3, I think, and our parents taking us over on a ferry to the Isle of Wight and for some reason I was grizzling. When we arrived where ever it was we were staying, apparently I fell out of my pushchair and had a mega meltdown and another massive grizzling session. I still have the small scar underneath my chin which my mother liked to point out to me at various stages in my life telling me how I was going through a difficult toddler phase at the time, although I think it was her fault because she hadn't strapped me in properly huh! Then at some later stage in the same holiday being put on a donkey and yep grizzling again! there was photographic evidence of that! I was clearly a fun child to be around, I can't remember any holidays for a few years after that one!

I also remember meeting up with our French cousins, when they came over to stay with our grandparents, I was probably a bit older maybe 3 or 4, I couldn't stop staring at them with my mouth open allegedly due to their speaking in strange tongues and clearly feeling

Fennel It was a Catholic school. Things didn't improve after that to be honest. Sadistic teachers, nuns and priests, with one or two exceptions.

KatyK That's awful .
Thank God teachers nowadays are more sensitive.
I remember being accused of hitting a teacher, around 1942, when she shook me because I was 'cheeky'.