🤔 How Many Walters Does It Take to Confuse a Family Tree?

👵 What Do You Call Your Grandma?

Growing up, we didn’t do the whole “Grandma Annie” or “Grandpa John” thing. Nope—we were formal. My grandmothers were Grandma Sweet and Grandma Ogden, and the grandpas matched. It sounded more like roll call at a very stern boarding school than a family gathering, but that’s just how things were.

Now, my grandkids call me Grandma Wanda. A lot less formal—but so are the times. I would’ve never dared call an adult by their first name back in the day. It was always Mr. or Mrs. So-and-So, unless they were an aunt or uncle. Thank goodness for that little loophole, too—because I had two Uncle Sweets, and the idea of having to say “Uncle Sweet” in a serious voice still makes me laugh.

🧬 Family Names: A Tradition or a Trap?

Let’s just say if you’re trying to track down my family on paper… good luck. We didn’t branch out too far when it came to names—we just kept recycling the same few, like heirlooms nobody wanted to throw out.

I was named after my dad’s Uncle Cecil’s wife, Wanda. That’s right—Wanda by marriage. It’s not a bloodline name. It’s just a borrowed one that stuck. And now here I am, trying to write my way through a family tree full of name repeats and replays.

To keep things spicy, we had an Uncle Cecil AND a Great-Uncle Cecil. Same name, same spelling—because apparently, one just wasn’t enough.

And then there’s the WALTER situation. Buckle up.

• My dad was named Walter.

• He had an Uncle Walter.

• That Walter had a son named Walter.

• And that Walter had a son named Walter.

• (At this point, it was less of a name and more of a legacy with a stubborn streak.)

So if you shouted “Walter!” at a Sweet family reunion, you'd get at least four heads turning—and one baby crying.

At some point, I think we gave up on originality and just leaned into tradition. I mean, why name someone something new when you’ve already got perfectly good Walters lying around?
And yes… after all that, I went and gave my son Craig the middle name Walter. Because apparently, I’m part of the problem.

And speaking of baby naming decisions...

My oldest son? I named him after the apartment complex we were living in at the time. My husband Gary was a car guy, so Cameron became Camero—because that’s what love looks like when you’re short on baby name books and surrounded by spark plugs.

Then came Cory. His middle name was the same as his dad’s—but Gary always called him Cory Vet, like a proud car-loving nickname passed down in motor oil. I didn’t fight it. I was tired.

By the time baby number three arrived, I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t remember if we were still doing “C” names or not. I looked at that poor child and thought, “Did we name him Craig? Or was it Greg?”

Bless his heart, he didn’t even get a theme. Just a mom with baby brain and a naming system that ran on fumes.

📝 Help Me Out

If any cousins are reading this and can tell me:

• Who Leona and Violet were named after…

• Or why we couldn’t come up with names that didn’t already belong to someone at the dinner table…

Please drop a comment or shoot me a message. I’ve got questions—and possibly a spreadsheet.

💬 Wanda-ism:

“Some families pass down heirlooms. Mine passed down names—and a whole lot of confusion.”