Childhood memory

This is Little Ted. He was my childhood teddy, my sister had a significantly larger teddy called Big Ted.

This challenge got me thinking about my earliest Childhood Memory. In my recent psychology course we looked at children's memory and their susceptibility to ideas. Where does the line cross between a true memory and the memory of being told about an event and seeing pictures? With ever increasing photography, will children feel they remember things from far younger as they remember all the photos?

I don't remember the early Christmases, Birthdays or days out. I don't remember my first days at school, I don't remember getting out of the pushchair and walking out of a lift, or climbing to the top of a very high scramble net when watchful eyes were turned away. I don't remember wandering off to find my Dad in the garden centre. I don't remember my toes being nibbled by ducks, or being knocked over by a sheep. I don't remember the laughter and silliness, of learning little ted had a squeak in him. I know that they were happy times though.

My earliest true memory was a visit to Culzean Castle, we had visited before and many times since. This time, I was aged 4 or 5. I remember tripping on some steps by the duck pond and bashing my face. I remember the blood. A kind lady offering some hankies and being held over a drinking fountain to clean up my mouth. I remember the Zoom ice lolly I was given afterwards to numb my mouth and calm me down. I remember my tooth bruising (you wouldn't think it possible but it is). But most importantly, I remember coming out of it ok, not losing the tooth and not being scarred for life by the experience.

I shouldn't be too concerned about my lack of childhood memories, there are just as many times I don't remember from my grown up life. Whether due to the knocks on the head or just a self preserving mechanism, I don't remember the nights out, the falls, the trips to Casualty or the panic and fright of coming round disorientated and confused.


Challenge #7