Krysta Martinez: Earliest Memories

Although scientists claim that memories can't be formed until about 3 years old, I have an abundance of memories from my early childhood as far back as about 1 year old. When I was born, I lived in an old house in Coalinga, CA with my older brother Brent until I turned 4 years old at which time we moved to Fresno and I clearly remember the house we lived in and clear memories of daily life there.

As a little girl, I was extremely shy. So shy, in fact, sometimes I would be afraid to talk to my own mom and I was frightened to death of my dad. To me, my dad was this huge, loud, scary guy with facial hair who tried to force affection rather than quietly earning it. In fact, I was very afraid of men in general. Especially men with facial hair. The worst thing I ever got in trouble for was not eating my dinner, particularly spaghetti (probably because of onions) and fish sticks. I remember being very quiet, extremely well behaved, and mostly self-entertaining. My brother and I spent a lot of time playing in the backyard on the swing set or in the sandbox with our big black newfoundland Flash and our cat Billy.

I believe my earliest memory is of me laying on the living room floor between the couch and black trunk we used as a coffee table, teething on barbie legs. The barbie was the centerpiece of my first birthday cake, so I had just turned one. It is so amazing that I remember things like sitting in my high chair, teething, and getting my diaper changed. It gives me such a unique perspective raising my girls, when I can look at both of them and remember being that age.

Here are some memories I have of being a little girl, in no particular order. All between the ages of 1 to 4.

Ruffle bottom stockings. Pink corduroy dress with tiny pink flowers to wear to church.

Climbing kitchen cabinets to get plum baby food. I remember trying to eat one with a big spoon that wouldn't fit in the jar.

Getting chicken pox for the second time at about 2 years old. I had them so bad, they were everywhere. On my eyes, inside my crevices.

Sitting on the back porch wondering what dirt tasted like. I took a handful and put it in my mouth, tried to chew it then spit it out.

My dad brought home a trailer full of manure to plant a garden and my brother and I were playing in it like you would play in dirt, not understanding what it was. Not sure why Dad thought that was a good idea to let us play in manure, and Mom was not very happy about it when she found out.

Playing in the backyard, looking at the sun wondering if it was inside of the world or outside. I decided it was inside.

I had a pair of KangaROOS tennis shoes with zipper pocket. I put a coin in the pocket and could never get it back out.

I went through a phase of tucking all my shirts in and my socks had to be pulled straight up.

At about 2 years old, our friends Timmy and Tommy Thatcher were teasing me about how I sucked my thumb and carried my blanket everywhere. So, I stomped in the kitchen where my parents were talking, interrupted them even though I knew not to, and declared my independence. I told them I'm not a baby anymore and threw my blanket in the trash can. Then I put my hand by my side and said I wasn't going to suck my thumb anymore either. Surprisingly, I never went back on my word.

Standing on a chair washing dishes with my mom.

I had a little birthstone ring and I was walking through a Walgreens type store, holding my moms hand, and I dropped the ring. I tugged back reaching for it, but my mom didn't realize what I was trying to get and kept walking. I was too shy to tell her to stop and let me get it.

Pushing all my toys under my dresser when I was supposed to clean up my room. I was so mad when that plan didn't work and I had to pull them out and put them away the right way.

Walking to the corner to pick up Brent from school. I was 3 years old.

We took a trip to the snow in our VW Rabbit. I was sliding down the hill with my dad we fell off the inner tube.

Mom sewing my cousin Christina's pink prom dress.

Picking at my belly button until it got red then asking for a bandaid. I did that a few times. lol

Scribbling tornadoes on a lined piece of paper with many pens and pencils and sitting at the kitchen table writing 3 letter words.

Putting every hair clip I could find in my hair.