I can remember being confined in my crib and my mom wouldn’t let me out. I was positively enraged. I was 19.
LOL, no, I was about 2 years old, I suppose. It was after the war and we were living in a tenement building in NYC on 24th St. My crib was pushed up against a window overlooking an alley. My dad said I got so mad about being confined that one day I threw some of my mom’s perfume out the window. He said she retaliated by throwing my teddy bear out. Don’t remember that. But I do remember the crib and the alley. There were alley cats down below. Lots of other memories start emerging after that.
I have a couple of memories from before age 3. One is of the underside of my grandparents’ dining room table as seen from below. The earliest, strongest memory is of my father returning from WWII when I was just over 3.