girls
They say that when a girl picks a man to be her husband, she often picks a man who is much like her dad. It isn’t maybe a conscious thing, but it seems to be a fact anyway. Maybe it’s because for a girl, their dad always makes them feel like a princess, so it can be hard to move away from that when you get married. I think to a degree, most girls pick someone similar to their dads, because that is the first male influence on their lives, but it would sure seem that, my sister, Alena Spencer Stevens came the closest of any I’ve ever seen when she married her husband, Mike Stevens. I don’t know if she saw the 
similarities back then, but I doubt it, because I don’t think most girls choose a husband based on that similarity, but she definitely sees it now. Mike is a lot like Dad in his work ethic, the type of work he can do, and in his mannerisms and temperament. They are even similar in their looks!
Alena loves to do many of the recreational things that our dad loved to do, such as camping and fishing, and she loves to sit around a campfire, so much so, that she and Mike were the first in our family to buy a backyard fire pit. That is very Dad like. I suppose that being Dad like is one of the main reasons that Alena would choose a man who is much like Dad to be her husband, because that is the type of person she is most comfortable with.
Alena is a very soft hearted person, and like Dad, she doesn’t like to see people being picked on, unless of course, it is in fun, and then she would prefer to be the one doing the picking, rather than being picked on…but then, wouldn’t we all. Alena is pretty good at playing practical jokes too. In fact, she has been since she was a little girl. She pulled enough pranks on the rest of us over the years, that we learned to be pretty watchful of her. It was the best way to defend yourself. Her favorites were, of course, the ones where the rest of us ended up scared, so she could laugh at us for being a chicken…I wonder why, when we thought someone was breaking in when Mom and Dad weren’t home and it was midnight or so. Good job Alena!! Today is Alena’s birthday. Happy birthday Alena!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Written by: Brenda Schulenberg
Caryn became part of our family on March 1, 1975…..almost 40 years ago!!!! I don’t really remember life without Caryn! She has been a major part of our family for so many years now…and I would never want to imagine our family with her not a part of it.
In the early years, Caryn spent most of her time raising her two girls, my nieces, Corrie and Amy. Then, along came her four grandchildren my Great nieces and nephews, Chris, Shai, Caalab and Josh. All of them were true gifts to Caryn. She really enjoys being a Mother and Grandma.
A few years back when Caryn’s Dad, Al Spencer suddenly became very sick she became an instant caregiver to him. She had help from her Mom, Colleen and her sisters Cheryl, Caryl, Alena, and Allyn along with all of their children and grandchildren…it took all of them. They all then became caregivers for Caryn’s Mom, Colleen when she became ill and they are still caring for her and doing a great job of it.
Then as if Caryn didn’t have enough on her plate she became a caregiver to my parents, Walt and Joann Schulenberg. She had help from myself and my siblings, Bob, Jennifer, Debbie, and Ron along with my nieces and nephews, Corrie, Amy, Machelle, Susan, Barry, JD, Eric, Riley, and Tucker, all of my great nieces and nephews and my Aunt Margee Kountz and her Granddaughter Staci. Everyone helped when they could, in any way they could even if it was just to stop by or call for a visit…..but we could not have kept either one of my parents at home as long as we did without Caryn. She was their primary caregiver and didn’t bat an eye about doing it. She is still helping with my Mom by checking on her almost daily out at Shepherd of the Valley Care Center & going to all of her doctor appointments with her and keeping all of us up to date as to how she is doing.
Last October when I got sick….who did I call 1st? No, not ghost busters….I called Caryn? She convinced me that I needed to get checked out to see what was wrong. She was with me all the way…from going to the hospital, to my rehab at Elkhorn…and then once I was home she would do whatever I needed help with. She even stayed the first two nights at my house because she didn’t want me to be by myself. Caryn and my sister Jennifer….and my entire family, friends and coworkers have all been very supportive during my long recovery & weight loss. I couldn’t have done it without all of them.
I don’t even want to think of what the past several years would have been like for either Caryn’s family or my family if it hadn’t been for Caryn and her dedication of her time and her 
heart to care for all four aging parents and myself.
We couldn’t have and wouldn’t have wanted to go through any of this without Caryn.
She is one of the best Sisters-in-law (I consider her my Sister) that I could ever ask for and I know that my Parents felt the same way….she was and is one great Daughter-in-law.
Today is Caryn’s birthday and I just want to say Happy Birthday Caryn. We love you and appreciate you very, very much!
Every child who has been in school, has also been in a school play of one type or another. It is very common, especially in Kindergarten to have a class play. All the kids in the class are so excited as the practice session take place, and they can hardly sit still long enough to get through the necessary studies before it is time for play practice. It doesn’t really matter what part each child is to play…at least not in Kindergarten, because they are usually happy with any part. Often there is a line or two for the child to memorize, and when they say their line, they feel like it was a monumental accomplishment, and really, it was, because they have never done anything quite like that before.
I remember my Kindergarten play vividly…or should I say one part of it. I have no idea what the play was about, nor the part I played in it, but I vividly remember that when the teacher said it was time to line up for practice, I was running to be first in line. I made it too, several times, but it didn’t matter. The teacher always made me move back in the line to about the midway point. I never could figure that out. It seemed very unfair to me that even though I got there first, I was not allowed to keep my place in line. Thankfully the teacher was quite patient, because she had to tell me to move back to that same midway point every day. I suppose that if she had explained to me that there was a certain order that we had to line up in, I might have understood, but she never said that. She simply moved me back. The whole thing really wasn’t my fault either, because after all, when you lined up for anything else, it was first come first in line. So how was I supposed to know that this was different. All I knew was that I wanted to be first in line and the teacher wouldn’t let me. Thankfully, I just did as I was told, and didn’t cry. Now that would have been humiliating!! I don’t know if my teacher understood why she had to tell me over and over to move further back, or if she just thought I was a little ditsy, but she never got mad at me, and remained a favorite teacher throughout the years.
I never heard that my girls had such a problem with their pre-school and kindergarten plays, so maybe it was just me being a little ditsy, I don’t really know. What I do know is that I think I prefer being on the audience side of school plays far more than I did as an actress. I guess that means I’ll never be famous, or at least not a famous actress, but I can live with that. Through the years, I have enjoyed watching everything from plays to concerts at the schools…at least as long as they included my daughters or my grandchildren, that is.
Not every family member comes into the family by birth or directly by marriage, sometimes they come into a family by way of a blended family. That is the case with my niece, Amanda. She is the daughter of my sister Caryl’s second husband, Mike Reed. Amanda was a blond 16 year old girl just starting into the pre-adult years. She is the same age as my niece, Andrea, who is Caryl’s daughter, so they would now have two 16 year old girls in the household. All I can say to that is…ouch!! All of the emotions of two 16 year old girls would be more than anyone should have to get used to all of a sudden, but that was the situation Caryl and Mike found themselves in, when they combined their two families to make one.
Since my daughters are 11 months apart, I knew what it was going to be like for them. For one month of every year Corrie and Amy are the same age too. The difference is that I was able to move into the horrible teens slowly, and easing into the changes the girls would go through. I can’t imagine doing those years without that prior preparation. The girls got along pretty well…most of the time, and the first year didn’t seem to be too bad. I knew that if they could live through that first year, the rest would be progressively easier, and they were.
Amanda is still the same blond girl, but now, she has a little girl of her own. She is a wonderful mother, who, along with her significant other, Sean has raised a wonderful little girl named Jaydn, who is just as sweet as she can be. We don’t get to see them as much as we would 
like, because they live in Rawlins, but when we do see them, it is always a pleasure.
You never really know how loved ones will come into your life. As circumstances change, so do the people in your life, and while not every blended family works out so well, Caryl and Mike’s did, and we have been very blessed because it did. We have new family members that we would not have had any other way. I feel very blessed to have Amanda as a part of our family, as well as Sean, Jaydn, and of course, Mike too. Today is Amanda’s birthday. Happy birthday Amanda!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Sometimes in families, there can be enough years in between the oldest child and the youngest child, that it is almost like having two or more families. My parents family was that way to a degree. My sister Cheryl and I were the oldest, 2 years apart, and 3 years after I was born, came my three little sisters, 2 years apart each. It wasn’t so much that there was such a difference, but it was enough of a difference so that Cheryl and I always called our younger sisters the three little girls…and so did our parents. My friend, Ambra, has a similar situation with her family, and she calls the youngest children, the littles, which I think is very cute. My mother’s family had nine children, and to a degree, at least while they were growing up, there seemed to be three families. The oldest three girls, my mom and her brothers, and the youngest three girls….and my Aunt Bonnie was the oldest of the youngest.
Being the oldest, even if it is only the oldest of the youngest kids, puts that child in a place of being looked up to. You are the cool one, and for girls, always the prettier, more sophisticated one…even if that’s not really so, because all my aunts are very pretty. Nevertheless, it always seems that way. I think I can understand why Aunt Dixie and Aunt Sandy would look up to Aunt Bonne, because she has always been a sweetheart. Her kindness is well known in the family, and the many times she has given a gift that was so priceless, in the form of the most beautiful wedding cakes and she wouldn’t take money for them…that’s priceless, and it will never be forgotten. and it has endeared her to all the family. But it wasn’t just what she could do for you that made Aunt Bonnie so wonderful. There was so much more.
For many years she took care of her husband, my Uncle Jack’s mom, and then she took care of Uncle Jack too. She made the 
years of their lives wonderful, happy times, and in the last years, she brought comfort. Not everyone can be a caregiver, and having been one myself, I can tell you that it is a hard job, but you do it for love. And that is why Aunt Bonnie was a caregiver. She showed such great strength for so long, she fought hard, doing all she could to hold death at bay, and when death came, she like all caregivers was not ready. Nevertheless, death came and her life was forever changed. But Aunt Bonnie is strong, and while nothing will ever be the same, she carries Uncle Jack with her wherever she goes, and with great strength, she goes forward. Just like he would want her to do…and lives life. Today is Aunt Bonnie’s birthday. Happy birthday Aunt Bonnie!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Growing up, I recall that my sisters and I were often called, with a degree of surprise, the Spencer girls. I know that a lot of people would say that was simply our last name, but that didn’t really seem to be the reason. Even our boyfriends got that. People would say, “You are going out with one of the Spencer girls?” like they were shocked about it…or like they wondered how they had managed to live through meeting our dad…which couldn’t have been further from the truth about how our dad was. I know that some dads are the kind of guy who practically threatens any guy who wants to take out their daughters, with bodily harm if they break her heart. Now, don’t get me wrong, because our dad would have done whatever he needed to do to protect his daughters, but he was a man who would give a guy the benefit of the doubt…until they proved that they were trouble. Nevertheless, every guy we went out with was a Knot Head!! I suppose that was Dad’s way of saying that, in his opinion, no guy was good enough for his little girls…and believe me, most of them weren’t. The keepers were the ones who showed Dad that they weren’t Knot Heads.
We used to get…almost annoyed with Dad when he called guys Knot Heads, but deep inside, we knew that it was really his way of telling us that he wanted the very best for us, and this guy would have to prove himself before he would believe that he was worthy of our love. He wanted us to have men in our lives who would be good to us, treat us like ladies, protect us, and most of all, love us…until death we do part. How could we ever really be mad at him about that? It simply showed the love our dad had for his daughters…and down the road, granddaughters and grandsons, although the girlfriends weren’t Knot Heads.
Dad always had a way about him. He was able to tease us about boyfriends and yet, really mean that he wasn’t sure this guy was any good. Even while we protested at the name he gave them, we knew that it was more about us than the guy. He wanted us to know that his love for his daughters made him doubt most of the guys we went out with. He knew what most teenaged boys and even young men in their twenties were really like. Marriage and respect weren’t what they had in mind…unless they were the right guy, and that guy would endure the scrutiny and the doubt, and go on to prove to Dad and his daughters that they were the kind of men Dad wanted for his daughters…and not the Knot Head that he had thought them to be.
Looking back now, I am thankful for the scrutiny my dad used to view the men we dated, because it was through that scrutiny that I ended up with my husband, Bob. Yes, Bob was a Knot Head when we first started dating, just like every other guy I dated, but in later years, after he endured the scrutiny and passed the test, Dad often told me how proud he was of Bob. He liked him a lot, and respected him very much. Dad knew he could count on Bob to help out when anyone in the family needed help, but more importantly, he knew that Bob would be there for me throughout our lives. And he was right. Bob had proved himself, and in the last days of Dad’s life, Dad knew that he could count on Bob to help with the caregiving work that was needed in our family as well as in Bob’s, because Bob was definitely no longer a Knot Head.
When my girls were little, they rode the bus to school, and of course, ate their lunch at school too. As a kid, we only lived 5 blocks from school, and since Mom didn’t work then, we went home for lunch. In days gone by, the kids walked into town to school. There was not time for them to come home for lunch…only the town kids could do that. You wouldn’t think that these situations have much in common, but the thing they do have in common is the lunch container…so to speak. When my girls were little, their first lunch box was the Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox. They loved it. And every year after that, they got a new lunchbox, because as we all know, a first grader can’t have a Strawberry Shortcake lunchbox. That is totally not cool. By the first grade you would need something cool, like Care Bears or My Little Pony. The right lunch box made that first day of school, and the wrong one, ruined it. Ok, maybe it wasn’t quite that serious, but we all 
know that for a kid, very specific things mattered in school.
Things were a little different in the old west, as well as in the early 1900’s. Fancy lunchboxes didn’t exist. Instead of a lunchbox, the children took their lunch to school in a lunch pail, and it was really a small pail. I remember watching the Little House on the Prairie shows and seeing the girls bringing their lunch to school. It seemed so primitive…like taking their lunch in the same container they might just as easily have played in the sand with. I don’t know if they purchased the pail for the purpose of taking their lunch to school in, or if the pail was purchased with something else in it, and then used for lunches when it was empty, or just how it came to be a lunch pail. Who thought of that idea? Was it someone, who like me, tries to find a use for things that just look like they are too good to throw away, and maybe something could be made from them? In researching this thought, I found that often the 
children would try to create a lunch pail out of the containers that biscuit mix came in, so I guess that kids have always wanted a fancy lunch box.
From what I read, the lunch box used to be a kind of low status symbol too…at least in the working world. The worker who carried his lunch was viewed as someone who could not afford a hot lunch at a restaurant. Thankfully that isn’t the way it is view now, because I know a lot of people who bring their lunch to work. For most of us these days, it is more a way to eat healthy, and avoid the fast food places. So in that way, I guess the status symbol has taken on a whole new meaning.
As our parents get older, and less able to do the same things they used to when they were younger, and we come to expect less and less of them, and sadly sometimes we include them less in things. It’s not because they don’t want to be included, because they do, but because we don’t think they can do things anymore. As the new year approached, many people were at parties, and many of their parents were at home. Of those that included their parents, and were at a place where they could dance, I have to wonder how many made sure that their parents got to dance. Sometimes, it is harder to pull that off, and all too often the kids just don’t think about it. Still, when that forgotten dancer gets the chance to dance again, it lifts their spirit so much. I got to see that exact thing happen last year at my mom’s New Years Eve party, when her new grandson, by marriage, Jason Sawdon took Mom out on the dance floor and they danced.
Since my Dad’s passing, we had not thought about getting Mom out on the dance floor. Since her knee injury, she has used a walker, and it would have been very difficult for her to dance. Nevertheless, Jason would have none of that. He got Mom, his new grandmother, out on the dance floor and filled in for our dad for that special New Years dance that Mom and Dad always shared. It was such a precious moment, and I don’t think there was a dry eye in the place. It occurred to me that we had inadvertently left Mom out of part of the festivities, leaving her…a forgotten dancer. It wasn’t that we intended to do that, but more that we didn’t think about it. Dad had always had their special dance with her, and he had gone home.
I think that it’s easy to look at that situation and accept that a part of someone’s life might be 
over, when you are very close to that situation. We girls, being daughters and therefore not thinking like a man might think that was the case, and even the sons-in-law and grandsons who were there at the time of my Dad’s passing, could not see what Mom might need. We had watched with tears in our eyes, as they danced what turned out to be their last dance, because we were so grateful that they had the opportunity again. When Dad was gone on the next New Year’s Day, we thought her dance days were over. What Jason saw was a different need, and maybe Jessi gave him the idea…I don’t know, and I have not asked, because our forgotten dancer got to dance again, and that was all that mattered.
Kids are always doing goofy little things, and my niece Michelle is no exception. When I asked my niece, Lindsay, who is Michelle’s cousin/best friend/partner in crime, to give me a little dirt on Michelle for her birthday story, little did I know what I would hear. When I think of Michelle, I automatically think of Lindsay too, because they were practically inseparable as kids, and while they live a good distance away from each other now, that distance has not changed their friendship at all. As little kids, they decided to make up a special language for themselves. In the end they made up several…and they both knew exactly what the other one was saying. I suppose that it might be because their languages were logical to a degree. Lindsay explained one language this way. My name is spelled Caryn, so in their language it would be Caong Arong Yon Nong. Now that’s a pretty long version of a name that isn’t really that long, but that would be the name anyway. The girls understood each other completely, and their favorite thing to do was to go to Walmart and walk around talking to each other in their secret language…just to see the people around them looking at them like they were crazy. They enjoyed that so much that they spoke that language for two years.
No matter how inventive these girls were, the one thing they couldn’t imagine was enjoying a Bologna sandwich. Their grandma, my mom fed her kids and grandkids a lot of Bologna sandwiches through the years, and whenever she fed them to Michelle and Lindsay, they would take the Bologna off and throw it in the bushes in the back yard, and eat the sandwich with mayonnaise, mustard, and pickles, and they decided that they kind of liked it…and they thought Mom’s taste in sandwiches was bad. I’m sorry, but I beg to differ. Mayonnaise, mustard, and pickles…I don’t think so, girls. Still, it’s a wonder the bushes didn’t die, because…let’s face it, Bologna isn’t plant food. Michelle, is however, a very good cook, and in their senior year, Michelle had a free period right before lunch. She would go home and make lunch for Lindsay who would come over at lunch. It was a fond memory of Lindsay’s from that year. Another fond memory is the day that Michelle and Lindsay kidnapped, Lindsay’s little sister, Kellie and made her ditch her class. Kellie was a little freaked out about it, but their mom, my sister, Allyn was a good sport, and didn’t kill them for it.
Michelle is seldom called Michelle, because she has a number of nicknames. I don’t know if these date back to the secret languages or not, but Lindsay has long called her Mash Stav…don’t ask me why or what that means, because it doesn’t mean anything, it’s just one of the goofy names they used. Lindsay also called her Meechelle, my Belle. Lacey, Michelle’s little sister often called her Mish Mash. They couldn’t go with any of the normal nicknames, like Shelly or anything, because that would be too…normal. And not to be outdone, Michelle had nicknames for Allyn’s family too. Lindsay became Lance, Kellie became Killay, and Allyn became Lynnie…and there are probably many more that we haven’t thought of.
Michelle is a very intelligent person. She has moved to Spearfish, South Dakota to finish her education, before beginning her career choice of being an art teacher. She is an incredible artist and will be an amazing art teacher. She is also a very fun person, who is a friend to all. While she does feel lonely and homesick sometimes, she likes the Spearfish area, and especially the lack of wind. We miss her too. Today is Michelle’s birthday. Happy birthday Michelle!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
When a young wife moves half way across the country from her childhood home, she can get to a point where she really misses her family, especially her parents. That was the case for my mom when she married my dad and they moved from Casper, Wyoming to Superior, Wisconsin. While mom was happy in her new life and ecstatically happy with her new husband, she was nevertheless, a daughter far away from her parents. Soon after their marriage, mom became pregnant with my sister, Cheryl. Being a young wife and soon-to-be mother, and being far away from your mom can be very hard, and even a little scary, because as a woman is about to give birth, having her mother nearby is not a bad thing.
Grandma and Grandpa made several trips to Wisconsin in the five years my family lived there, and we were always very happy to see them and very sorry to see them go. The loneliness that always followed their home going was really tough, especially on my mom. 
Of course, like most families, daily life soon fell into place, and she got too busy to dwell on that loneliness too much. With two little girls to take care of she was pretty busy. Still, I’m sure that her family and especially her parents were never far from her thoughts though, because that is only natural.
The trips that Grandma and Grandpa made to visit were wonderful though. Mom and Dad showed them all the sights in the area. Superior, and the whole Lake Superior area is quite beautiful, and I don’t know if my grandparents had been there before my mom and dad move back there, so it was quite likely a very special treat to take those great drives, and be able to just relax and enjoy the view. When you have someone to show you the sights, you don’t have to worry about getting lost, traffic, or anything like that. You can just look, and that was what Grandma and Grandpa got to do. Knowing them like I did, I know that those touring drives were treasured times for them. They always liked the outdoors, and to see that whole region, which is quite different from Wyoming 
was probably a thrill, for sure.
After five years, my family would move back to Casper, Wyoming, where most of us would spend the rest of, or at least the majority of the rest of our lives. My mom was happy to be back here…near her siblings and her parents. She had missed them very much. Their house had always had a bustle of activity in it, and she missed that a lot. Still, now she also missed the family in Wisconsin and the beauty of the area. There is never really any way to have it all, I guess, so you just have to make due where you find yourself, and deal with the feelings of missing the things you left behind you.
