But Dad!

Troy: Turn off the TV and come eat dinner.

Bri: But dad! I'm watching it.

Troy: It's dinner time so turn it off. And don't say 'but dad' again.

Bri: Dad ... But ... I'm watching it.

Troy: 'Dad ... But' counts too!

leaves times infinity

Out of curiosity I signed up for a month membership to ancestry.com. Four hours later I was back in the late 1600’s and stumbled on Scotland. My eyes were burning from staring at the computer screen so long but that site is from the devil! I type in a family member’s name and then search for records. Next thing I know, I am looking at birth records, social security death information and census reports. After attaching all this stuff to my family member I can go back to my tree and little leaves appear in the corner of their name. This means the site has found even more information about this person. Sometimes the site has linked your family member to someone in another person’s tree. Now I can go there and find their parents and spouse to add to my tree. Family member, search, little green leaf, another family member, search, little green leaf, yet another family member, search, little green leaf …. The leaves became rather annoying but I couldn’t stop clicking on them. I went so far out on some of my branches I started thinking it is kind of pointless since I will never know anything about these people besides a meaningless name and birth & death information. But these meaningless people kept me up way too late, even after I turned off the computer. I kept thinking of the lives they probably lived, difficult lives. I wondered what things they believe that have long since been disproved. A couple of women have the same year of death as the birth year of their child. I can’t imagine living in a society where the number one risk to a woman’s life is to give birth. (Although, sadly, this is still the case in undeveloped counties.) And while I have all these people in my head, who could never understand that one day I would look at their US census report from 1850, I can’t help but wonder what will my name be on someday? And who will be looking at it? I wonder if thoughts of what my life might have been like will keep them up at night.



~Steph

a letter to my mom

I think I finally get it. I am twelve years into it and I am finally starting to understand what you went through. Being a mom is difficult. Next to being a wife, I think it is the most difficult thing I will do in my life. I remember being at a grocery store with you when I was about five years old and calling your name to tell you something. You told me you had changed your name and wasn't going to tell me what it was. I remember getting my feelings hurt and also feeling embarrassed in front of the cashier but now? I get it. I have experienced the non stop 'Mom' to the point where I can't even hold a thought in my head and all I want is quiet. Then there are the days when Avery and I are driving around and all I want is for him to talk to me! I understand how you felt walking in the door, tired from the stresses of your job, and being rushed by whining, complaining, demands, and commands from me. Wanting only to find a hole to crawl in but instead starting on your second work shift of housekeeper, personal driver, pulse machine, sounding board, and chef. I know what it feels like to wear your heart on the outside of your chest. Feeling it swell with pride but also fall to the bottom of your stomach with sadness. I struggle with the balance, as you must have, to give them everything while wanting them to be appreciative. And no matter how hard I try during the day, I always replay at night how I could have been better. I know you did the same. And even today you talk about the regrets you have but mom! I now know it was a difficult job. And all I can do is hope that one day Avery and Brianna will get it too!

~Steph