So I'm having a problem figuring out who all the Edwards and Johns and Georges are. Getting them straight. There are several in every generation. It's crazy. There's a great geneology written by a descendent only a couple of generations away from the Taylors I'm interested in and I need to really delve into it and make some sort of a chart for my time period. The descendent was Asher Taylor and his geneological record, researched and written over a span of forty years, was published in Hiram Deats' The Jerseyman. Ahhh, the internet. Here's the link:

http://www.archive.org/stream/jerseyman19031905deat#page/n11/mode/2up

I'm specifically trying to figure out who the John and Edward Taylor were who lived in Marlpit Hall. They were brothers and this Edward died in 1783. Pretty sure it wasn't Squire John Taylor who was in the house, or else that would be mentioned, right?

All this is a stark contrast to what my husband and I did regarding our son's name. We purposefully chose a name that had no relation to either family. No one else has had our son's name. Fresh start. That was the main reason. The other was that we knew he was going to be our last child (I'm frickin exhausted) and we didn't want to choose one side over the other. So two new names - first and middle. I'm guessing this wasn't even an option back then.

Frequently, I wonder who's better off. My husband and I have no family within thousands of miles (with the exception of my sister who is sort of temporarily in New York City), which we did partly on purpose. This was the most logical place for us to come for his job and it was close to NYC, which I was excited about. The added bonus that we were thousands of miles from family was huge, I have to admit. I've been exhausted by family things for decades, and not in the good exhausted kind of a way brought about by taking care of babies. Just exhausted and emotionally spent and, really, angry.

Yea, angry is the predominant emotion for me regarding family drama recently. And, as an angry person, I'm very afraid that I will say something cruel after having been pushed too far. So to combat this, I limit how long I'm around some family members to hours. Per year. And I guess it works.

But I see people around me who are life-long New Jerseyans. Or their husbands are. And their children are growing up among cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents. The mothers have more help, in that sense, although that never works out very well, I've noticed. But they're amongst family. And they seem happy. Happy and very self-contained. They're full.

And as an outsider, looking in, that's difficult to see for several reasons. A big thing is just jealousy on my part. I wish my children had that. Another big thing is that, because they're full, there is no room for us to squeeze in there. And I'm ok with it for myself (I'd have a hard time fitting in with the average NJ housewife regardless and that's fine), but I get upset for my children. My four year-old daughter wasn't invited to a single birthday party for six months after we moved here. Her classmates had birthday celebrations in class and then nothing. That was hard to watch. She didn't notice, thankfully. Oh, youth.

Anyway, this was recently brought to the forefront of my brain because my daughter's birthday is in a month and we're sending out invitations today. Sixteen of them. And I'm actually curious as to both how many people come and how many actual RSVP's we get. In general, my main problem with the people around me, in this town anyway, is that I'm pretty much invisible. So will they even acknowledge the invitation? The ones who have never even acknowledged my existence? This is for my daughter, after all. She's at school with their children and she likes them. I'm just praying that they remember that it's for children and are feeling generous.

Last thing, before I go dive into Archer's treatise - I'm also extremely worried because everyone seems to spend every weekend at their shore houses. Will they come back? Will they skip one day? I have no idea. Really. I tried calling two neighbors and asking them and the conversations didn't go as I had hoped. My questions weren't specifically answered, but they said their girls could most likely come. They just had to check their calendars. So that was nice, I guess. I tried calling more but haven't got a call back. Maybe they're on vacation.

Jesus, I'm depressing myself with this. And on a Monday morning. I need to focus on Phebe and her tough life. Cause hers was tougher than mine, I know that for certain and it helps me get some sort of perspective. Plus she's interesting. Plus I love researching things. Plus she lived where I ended up, kind of randomly. Where was she from? Not from here, I think. If she really is General Nathaniel Heard's sister, then she's from Woodbridge, New Jersey (more on that later, I think). But still, this wasn't her first home. I do want to know more.

OK, back to the geneology, then to do the dishes and get the day started by getting dressed, for a start. I'm planning on going to Marlpit Hall on Thursday afternoon. I'm really excited. Maybe as excited about that as I am about seeing Eclipse. And that's something!