When I was growing up. My family had dedicated evenings for family time. We played together. Complained together. Got in the boxing ring together. (My mom really hated when her kids fought.) We did a lot together. Sometimes family time was rewarding. Sometimes it was fatiguing. It was always memorable.

That practice now translates into the habit of me calling my mom whenever I can. I try to call my mom about once a week. When I do, it never fails that I’ll say something like, “Hey mom, do you remember the old Stop and Go off Highway 12?”

The questions are always yes or no questions. The questions are always meant as a lead into a subject I’ve prepared beforehand. In other words, the Stop and Go might not be the real topic I want to talk about, they’re just an easy way to broach the discussion. In fact, it’s often the case that my questions are subjects I wouldn’t ever have a reason to talk about in the first place.

But here’s the kicker. My mom never answers yes or no. She always jumps into a story about the Stop and Go or whatever it was I mentioned. And half the time, she’s interrupting me with her story before I even finish the question. Then I slap my forehead, sigh at a decibel level where she can’t hear me, and try to be patient while she tells me her story.

During which I’m cursing myself because she interrupted me or dragged me away from the reason I called in the first place. I’m cursing myself because I knew better than to have broached the subject that way but still haven’t learned not to.

All of which brings me to this point—sometimes I get tired of my family. Now don’t get me wrong. I love my mom. And I love listening to her stories. Oftentimes when I visit though, I find myself falling back into old habits and patterns I’ve discarded since the days I lived with them. Or I find myself loving our time together for the first few days but am really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed when I get home, or living in my regular routine, or avoiding the quirky habits of my siblings that are more annoying than adorable.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love my mom and my siblings. I just happen to also love not living with them. I love being able to take a break from them. Just like I know my mom loves it when I call her about once a week. Because she definitely needs a break from my brother and sisters who are the ones who care for my aging mother.

Breaks can be good and healthy for us. That’s why we break from work for the weekend or take a vacation. That’s why we rest at the end of the day. It gives us a chance to reset and refocus on what we really need. Especially our thoughts, desires, plans, and work. All of that is to say that sometimes it’s nice to have a break from genealogy too. To take a day off and think about something other than where those pesky ancestors are hiding. Take it from me, they aren’t going anywhere.

For some of us, taking a vacation or stopping to relax can be difficult. Yet often, if we are in a rut, the break is exactly what we need.

If this is you and you've had enough family time and you need a day off from genealogy, consider this your permission slip to take the day off. Your family, with all their quirky and annoying habits, will still be there when you get back. Plus, it’ll be fun to get reacquainted with them when you get back.

Just promise yourself you won’t be that guy who decides he wants nothing to do with the family and ditches everyone. Don’t be that guy. But a day or a week? Yes, that can help you get inspired to get back in the game. You might find new record collections available when you get back. You might look at your timelines with a fresh perspective. You might even find new records and stories. You might even fall into some of the same old patterns as before. Something similar to the way I know mom’s going to interrupt me with some story before I even finish asking her a question the next time I call.

I love her anyway.

And even if I’ve never, ever, annoyed her with any of my personal, adorable, quirky, loving funny, amazing habits, she might need a break from me too.