My Monthly Appendicitis

Imagine receiving a text from your husband that he's taking your daughter to Urgent Care:

She'll always be daddy's little girl

Husband:  We are heading to urgent care for Cady

Me:  What happened?????

Husband:  abdominal pain

**long pause**

Me:  Uh... cramps?

Yes.  This is a text conversation I had with my husband.  If you know anything about this blog, I have six sisters.  My husband has two, who are about 5 and 10 years older than him.  He's not been around the drama that is menstruation for his entire life.  I'll give him that.  He has been married to me for 10 years, though,  and I've had more than my share of periods during that time.  But this is his princess.  This pain can't be normal.

I ask him for her symptoms, and here they are:

• Nausea
• General Crankiness
• Pain on the left side below her bellybutton, but close to her hip
• This has happened before.  Last time, though, it happened on her right side
• Sudden onset

My prescription:  Midol and a Heating Pad.

In spite of my assertion that this is just normal ovulation cramps, we agree that he has to do what he has to do, and off they go to urgent care.  He sends me a couple of frantic texts about ovarian cysts and infertility before I realize that he's self-diagnosing on WebMD, and then it's radio silence.

In the meantime, I've taken my sons to Scouts (I'm the Webelos leader), and I'm giggling with my sister-in-law about her ridiculous brother.  As Scouts is nearing the end, my husband comes arrives at the church building sans Cady with a serious look on his face.  My heart lurches as I ask for the update.

Scott explains that the doctor did prescribe medicine, but... it was just Midol and a Heating pad.

Huzzah!  I shouldn't be so pleased that I was right and he was wrong, but I'll be the first to admit that he's usually right.

His explanation of his thinking was priceless:  "The nausea, the sudden pain... all I could think of was when I had appendicitis!  My daughter has appendicitis!  I was certain we were going to be heading in for an emergency appendectomy."

There are two morals to this story.  1)  my husband loves our daughter so much, his usually very logical manner flies right out the window when she's in pain, and 2) the pain women go through each month is pretty much the equivalent to appendicitis.  I shall now be referring to it as my monthly appendicitis.

#10

Ode To the Mismatched Sock

I look at all of my siblings and it's easy to see where each of us got specific qualities.

Chuck got Mom's dark brown hair, but the thickness of Dad's. Nearly all the rest of us got Dad's coloring. Peggy and I have almost no gray even though I'm 42 and she's...older. Then there are the Cady feet, Cady cowlicks, Matt has Dad's nose, and the rest of us have Mom's.

Personality traits also rear their ugly, and not-so-ugly heads.  We often joke that some of us are grasshoppers, and others are ants - like in Aesop's Fable.

The one trait both Mom and Dad had in abundance was creativity and the ability to write. Mom was an English major in college, and I believe she worked on the school newspaper. As she got older, she helped write a few plays which were performed in church, wrote songs, and the occasional poem. Dad was no literary slouch either. He made up and wrote short stories for us kids, would sing impromptu songs for us at night, and constantly imagined fun, creative, and entertaining activities. As he (and we) got older, he had more time to pursue more creative hobbies. One of which were the creation of mystery games that he and Mom worked together on. This turned into Whodunnit Mysteries, which is still going to this day, run by someone from our family.  You think our stories and blogs are wacky? You oughta play one of their games.

In my laundry room, I have a reminder of Mom's creativity hanging on the wall.

Ode to the Mismatched Sock,
written by Barbara Sawey Cady in 1982.

A sock is a sock is a sock they say
But is that really so?
If a pair of socks is a pair of socks
Then tell me where they go?
A pair is two I do believe

One left and one that's right. 
And they're not one unless there's two
All snuggled up real tight.

But I've learned a lesson 
Through the years
I'm sure this theory's true.
A pair of socks can't stand the thought
Of being together as two.

So one by one they sneak away
To find a place that's better.
To nestle alone in a sleeve or a drawer
Or under a bed strewn with litter.

Where they can snooze and tease and play
Alone. Do you think it's quite fair?
Tell me why, if they cherish their solitude,
Do they bother to come as a pair?

Whenever I'm doing laundry, I glance at the poem on my wall, remember our giant 25 gallon bin filled with mismatched socks, and reminisce about all the fun and wacky things that made us Cadys.


~ Susan (#4)

Happy Oreo Day!

Kindergarten is an eye-opening experience for children as they are exposed to situations and people they have hitherto never known were even in existence.  Anyone who has ever been exposed to children has had them come home spouting knowledge they surely didn't learn at home.  This kindergarten rite of passage birthed well-loved tradition in our family.

At the end of May of her Kindergarten year, my daughter (aptly named Cady) came home for a beloved long weekend.  It passed as usual, with yard work and a family barbecue.  Monday evening was coming to a close, and Cady seemed disappointed and slightly confused.  Upon my masterful interrogation, she finally stated she didn't understand the holiday.  I explained to her the celebration of remembering those who died to keep our country free, and her baffled look remained.  More explanation ensued, followed by continued head scratching.  Finally, I asked her what was confusing to her.

"Well, where are the Oreos?"

My turn for the confused goldfish face.  "What are you talking about?"

"The Oreos.  Shouldn't there be at least a few Oreos?"

Her logic has always been astounding, but even I, with all my imagination, could find no way to connect sacrificing soldiers with Oreo cookies.  Expressing my own confusion, she rolled her eyes in exasperation and wailed, "Then why do they call it OREO DAY!"

Finally!!  I turned on my kid-talk translator and understood that all this time rather than hearing "Memorial Day," she had been hearing about "OREO Day," clearly with great anticipation.  Thus began our annual Oreo Day celebration!

Each year since then, we buy piles of Oreos and gorge ourselves with Oreo Cheesecake, Oreo Ice Cream, Oreo pudding pie, deep fried Oreos, and any other Oreo concoction we can come up with.

This weekend as you visit your cemeteries, proudly hang the American Flag, attend your parades, and barbecue with family and friends, know that our family is going to be doing those things with cookie-blackened teeth and an Oreo-induced coma in added celebration of Oreo Day.

#10

11 Key Items for Indoor Camping

As Cadys growing up we were taught to be creative in our thinking, and even think outside the box.  This was a basic, fundamental guideline that carried through to my own children.  Now that they have flown the coop and say that I’m a few feathers short of a pillow, I get to continue this legacy with my step-son and husband.  It’s taken them a couple of years, but they are getting the hang of it.  Last weekend they demonstrated how far they have come in the process.  It looked something like this:  Pouring rain + Father/Son Campout = not much fun.  Result…..Indoor camping!  The following is a list of key items that were involved:

1.  A tent   Of course you need a tent!  You’re camping!  Don’t set up camp in the back bedroom to hide the fact that you don’t want to camp in the rain. Go for the gusto!  Have no shame.  Pitch

   

   Tents are the definition of camping.
   This one has a few
    battle scars.

   that puppy smack dab in the middle of the living room so everyone gets to share in your adventure.
2. Sleeping bags  As previously stated, you’re camping!  Turn off the furnace so that the evening temperature drops a few degrees.  Having a slightly cold nose during the night will make the experience a little more authentic.
3. Fireplace or insert  You can build a fire, roast marshmallows, make s’mores, or just stare at the flames as they hypnotize you with their gyrating dance.  If you don’t have a fireplace, think outside the box and light some candles.
4. Camp chairs   These are mandatory for when the fire casts it’s spell, you enter that zombie-like

   

   Candles help create the facade
   of "real" camping

   state, and are sucked into the endless abyss of flickering yellow and orange flames.
5. Ceiling fan/portable fan   Even though the camping is taking place indoors, it is important to recreate the outdoor feel as much as possible.  Ceiling fan = wind.  I put mine on medium low for a pleasant breeze.  It got turned off sooner than I wanted, but hey, I wasn’t the one camping.
6. Sound FX machine   Self explanatory.  Do you want to camp by a river?  By the ocean?  During a thunder storm?  In a field with crickets?  The choice is yours when you camp indoors!  Note:  I wouldn't suggest the heartbeat mode.  That would be a little creepy!
7. Snacks   What is camping without tons of junk food to eat?

   

   Yesss! Snacks!

8. Mosquitoes  Each camping trip needs at least one rampant mosquito making everyone miserable.  I didn't hear of any on this adventure, but someone kept closing the slider behind me every time I left it open...
9. Candles   These substitute for the lantern on the picnic table where you eat, talk, and play games after dark.  If they are flameless, you can even hold it under you face and make scary ghost noises.
10. “B.I.F.F.Y.” sign taped to the bathroom door.  I’ve been told this stands for “Bathroom In Forest

    

    This sign's job was two-fold

    For You.”  Not all campgrounds have primitive amenities.  Some have flushies and running water.  Make sure you bring your flashlight so you don’t take a wrong turn.  Remember, you’re camping and it's dark out there!
11. Flashlight   You don’t want to get lost in the middle of the night going to the BIFFY and “accidentally” end up in your own bed.

Just like "real" camping, all the gear was left in the living room.  I finally moved it to the garage floor where it remains because again, just like "real" camping, nobody remembers where the supplies came from, so we’ll just figure it out later.

To my fellow camping staycation enthusiasts:  If you have any other tips or funny stories, please share them below so we can all hold our heads high as we enjoy what I'm sure is going to be the latest craze in camping.  It could happen!

Peggy - #4

20 Ways to Avoid Doing Chores...Cady Style

Following up on my last blog post, 10 Ways to get your child to do chores, I thought it would be appropriate to discuss creative ways the Cady children tried to get OUT of their responsibilities. Where Mom and Dad were highly creative in getting us to do our chores, we were equally resourceful in finding ways to avoid said tasks. Below are only a few approaches we attempted.

1. Be allergic: This was a favorite of some Cady children.  I thought it cheapened the experience to claim allergies when the rest of the family was outside mowing the lawn, trimming the eight miles of boxwood hedges, and pulling weeds.  I mean, seriously. It's just hives, rashes, wheezing, and nearly having your throat close up.  Take some Benadryl and get over it! 
2. Take up Sports: Sports were one of my preferred methods of avoiding chores. It's not my fault they have volleyball games three hours away on a Saturday. 
3. Have a job. Another of my preferred excuses.  If abused too often, it began to upset Dad.  But, in my effort to avoid any and all family chores, I opted to take up JROTC, sports, work, and early morning seminary...just to be safe.  You never know when Dad was going to throw a pickle at you and put you in charge of dishes. 
4. Be under the age of 1, or unable to walk. This rule was a bit more fluid.  If you were eight months old and decided you wanted to walk, well then you better be willing to pick up your toys.  Everybody pitches in!
5. Ignore Mom & Dad when they are calling your name. I heard legend of Cady kids trying this technique.  I also heard a rumor that we had 12 children at one time.  I think there may be a correlation there somewhere. 
6. Play sick. If a child wanted to try this method, they had to be unwaveringly dedicated to their story.  In our home you couldn't lie in bed and cough a little.  No.  You needed to be willing to spend some time in the emergency room, or at the very least, wretch several times in the toilet.  The louder you were, the more points you got. 
7. Break bones. I was never this determined to get out of chores, but Matt and Becca were both willing to go to such extremes to avoid mopping the floor, or cleaning toilets.  It didn't work for long though.  Eventually Mom and Dad would have them working alongside the rest of us, cast and all .
8. Get hit by a car.  Never one to be outdone, Matt decided to take matters into his own hands and get hit by a car while on his bike.  I believe it got him out of one or two Saturday sessions before Dad was cracking the whip again.  
9. Have a birthday. Birthdays were a glorious thing.  It meant one day where you got to choose the shows on TV and...NO CHORES!  I tried to claim my birthday at least every other month, but Dad always seemed to see right through me. 
10. Leave Town. Hey! A kid's gotta do what a kid's gotta do.  There comes a point in our young life where slaving away with a vacuum and a toilet brush gets to be too much. It's not like we had a dishwasher growing up. And sometimes we had to wring our clothes out by hand and hang them on a clothes line.  Life back in our day was hard.  
11. Move out of the house. Desperate times call for desperate measures.  And after decades of doing housework, I can imagine some of my older siblings were pretty doggoned determined to fly the coop.  Some of them went off to college.  Others got married.  Still others went on missions for two years.  As a result, we learned to adjust. I learned how to cut down trees, fix sprinkler systems, replace light switches, mow lawns, do minor plumbing, change the oil in our car, and so much more. 
12. Stay at a friend's house. This was always my favorite tactic.  Not only was a slumber party involved, but if I timed it just right, the Saturday work would be done by the time I got home.  However, Mom became leery of such tactics and instigated a "curfew" requiring us to be home by 11:00 a.m. so we could still help out. 
13. Hide. Occasionally attempted by one of the younger kiddos, this tactic was almost always met with a firm swat to the butt, and extra chores.  It only took one or two swats before the ill-fated child decided work wasn't so bad after all. 
14. Pretend to work, but don't.  As we got older, some of us got craftier.  I was never bold enough to try this tactic, but I did see other sisters effectively work it.  
15. Use the bathroom. Hey, if Mom can hide in the bathroom for an hour, why can't we? Oh, that's right. Twelve people and 1-2 bathrooms. Eventually someone is gonna need to pee. 
16. Throw a tantrum. This is another method I suggest avoiding. At least in our household.  If hiding resulted in a swat and more chores. A tantrum incurred the full force of Dad's wrath, a world-class guilt trip by Mom, AND a bunch of extra chores to be done long after the rest of the family is done. Luckily, this almost never happened. 
17. Mysteriously disappear. If I recall, Cathy was the master of mysterious disappearances. If someone asked her to fetch something, it seemed to take her at least an hour, maybe more, to get the item.  I have no idea where that girl would disappear to. But she moved slower than molasses travelling uphill in Antarctica. 
18. Have an appointment. There were few appointments Mom and Dad deemed worthy of getting out of chores. Usually it was the dentist.  They must've figured it was worth trading one torture for another. 
19. Pray for a miracle. Though not normally successful, I wasn't above praying for a miracle on Friday night before bed.  Please, oh please let it be thunder and lightening outside tomorrow! Of course, we lived in Seattle for eleven years.  Dad wasn't above making us work in the rain either. 
20. Hope for a natural disaster. Another one-in-a-million shot, but by golly I was an optimist! Sadly, natural disasters were usually reserved for Thanksgiving when the lights would go out, and we'd end up eating cold (or no) turkey by candle light. This happened more than once in at our house.

Some of our tactics worked and some did not.  Occasionally the older kids would have mercy and warn the youngers which methods to avoid.  Other times they'd sit back and watch the entertainment.  But one thing was unanimously agreed upon.  Working for Mom and Dad was a million times better than working for Grandma Cady.  When that woman came to town, all bets were off.  Death itself couldn't keep you out of chores, and if you were lucky, you'd only have to re-do them once before you were off the hook.

~Susan (aka #7)

Justification: You Know You Want Some

What is wrong with this picture?

What is wrong with this picture?  This question can be taken in so many different directions.  It's like a loaded question.  Is it a trap?  What am I trying to accomplish by asking that question?  Well, the answer to all these questions is...yes.  There are multiple things "wrong" with this picture, but as Cady's, we choose to view things from a more simple, twisted point of view. Let me break it down a little, but we have to start simple.  The bowl has ice cream, brownies and topping in it.  There is something being made in the mixer, there is a list, a phone, a clock, and a basket of fruit.

Now let's peel back a layer and look at the next level.  This is what my internal monologue sounds like:  Why are you making something so sugary and sweet while  eating a brownie with ice cream?  You know you are going to end up eating too much of it.   Because I need to include something with the vase that I borrowed from "Lydia" 4 weeks ago.  OK, 5 weeks ago.  Fine 2 months ago.  Maybe then she won't hate me.  Why are you eating a brownie with ice cream when there is a basket of perfectly good, healthy, ripened-to-perfection bananas right there?  Because I ate fruit all day yesterday and I'm bored with it.  And anyway, this way I can throw away the ice cream container in the freezer thus freeing up space.  Besides, it was only a small brownie and a little bit of ice cream.  It didn't even fill the bowl.  Why did you turn on "Longmire?"  You know you can't watch just one.  Because it isn't any fun to eat brownies and ice cream while staring at a wall.  It was too much effort to turn in my chair and look out the window at the trees blowing in the wind.  If I'm watching a program, it makes the yummies last longer and I feel like I've eaten a wonderfully filling treat. Why did you have to put that list on the table?  It is a reminder of all the things I need to be working on today.  Baking cookies and cleaning out the freezer is not on the list, but now is as good a time as any, right?

You know you want some...

And the next level.  What is with the clock?  Ummm.  It's only 9:45 am.  It's good to multi-task, right?  This way we get many things worked on and completed at the same time.  But brownies and ice cream at 9:45 am??  I've been up since 5:00 am.  It's really almost lunch time....

And the final level...  And just where were you this morning?  I was swimming for 90 minutes.  I feel invigorated, energized, alive.  So after swimming for 90 minutes, you came home and ate brownies and ice cream?  Well...I know it seems kind of....wait!  My timer is going off.  Someone has to taste the first batch of cookies.  You know you want some....

Peggy - #4

Reading now and then.

Reading has been a vital part of my life for years. I remember reading in my school classes, reading when I should have been doing chores, reading in the car (with a bucket just in case I got sick), reading when I was in the bathroom, well you get the picture.

I remember sneaking into Dad's closet and marveling at the many paperbacks stacked haphazardly on the bookshelves. He was the one who introduced me to Louis L'Amour and the whole western genre.

 

 When Ma saw me cutting up through the woods she knew something was cross-ways. took me only a minute to tell her. She sat in that old rocker and looked me right in the eye while I told it "Tye," she was almighty stern, "was Long Higgins looking at you when you fetched him?"

     "Right in the eye."
     "Take the dapple," Ma said, "he's the runningest horse on the mountain. You go west, and when you find a place with deep, rich soil and a mite of game in the hills, you get somebody to write a letter and we'll come down there, the boys an' me." excerpt from The Daybreakers by Louis L'Amour.

These books helped ignite my love of history, especially family history. My family also came from the poor Tennessee hills and migrated west looking for a place to settle, some leaving a trail of wanted posters behind them.

So for the last week I have been away from home visiting family in Utah. Logged another 2200 miles on the van and had a wonderful time, even if it took my daughter getting her tonsils out to make it happen. On the way back I got to listen to excerpts and bursts of laughter from my youngest as she read me her favorite parts in the book she is currently devouring.

       Arion nickered.
     "Jeez, Hazel," Percy said, "tell your horse to watch his language."
     Hazel tried not to laugh. "What did he say?"
     "With the cussing removed? He said he can get us to the top. "
     Frank looked incredulous. "I thought the horse couldn't fly?"
     This time Arion whinnied so angrily, even Hazel could guess he was cursing. 
     "Dude," Percy told the horse, "I've gotten suspended for saying less than that."

excerpt from The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan, or Uncle Rick to his fandom. (Book 2 in the Heroes of Olympus series.) You should really start at the first book in the first Percy Jackson series though - The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson and the Olympians). Note: It is free through Kindle Unlimited so you can try it and decide if you want to read more.

Watching my children enjoying reading as much as I did? It gives me such joy and I know my parents would be proud, also. Watching my grandkids enjoy reading too? Heaven on earth.

Chris - #1

13 Ways I Procrastinated Writing This Blog

Task to be accomplished:  Write a blog to be posted on Friday.  My assignment has been clearly identified and begun in within a timeframe that will provide me with no excuse impeding my success.  Let the writing procrastinating begin.

Procrastination #1:  Hey!  I found a TV show that is not horribly inappropriate that I haven't seen before that my husband didn't scoff at!  I'd better watch an episode (or 3) of that.  My two bits:  When did Kiefer Sutherland get so old and presidential looking.  And I'm not sure about that First Wife.  She was a strong character in the Truman Show, but she seems oblivious and tepid in this show.  Is that the character she's playing's personality, or is that just her?  And wouldn't it be cool if this was a spinoff of 24 and Jack Bauer was now president?  I'm sure I'm not the first person who has ever thought of this.

Procrastination #2:  Or is this 1A:  IMDB-ing "Designated Survivor" then "Truman Show" then "24."  I've heard 24 is good.  I should watch it.  Is it on Netflix?  Let's check... oh... that looks good.  Wait!  I'm supposed to be blogging!

Daisy would prefer if we sliced
ourselves open and she could live inside us at all times.

Procrastination #3:  Letting the Roscoe and Daisy out... and in... and out... and in... forget it.  I'm just leaving the slider open.

Procrastination #4:  Stalking and staring at the skeeter-eater that came in through the slider.  I know they say they kill the actually pernicious mosquitos, but he's so huge!  Are they really just male mosquitos stepping up to the plate for oppressed male praying mantises by eating the smaller female mosquitos?  Step away from Google.

Procrastination #5:  Cuddle with Daisy.  There was a big thunderstorm today, and she is a gentle creature prone to clinging and suffocating.  Suffocating me, not herself.  She breathes just fine.

Procrastination #6:  Eating a handful of chocolate chips.  They're so small.  They're low-fat and practically calorie free, right?  I mean, I could be melting them and mixing them with peanut butter for some gooey choco-peanut butter goodness, but Scott made fun of me for that today, and I shouldn't make that...  Screw him!  I'm not going to let him control me!  That's it!  I'm gonna make some of it just to spite him.  That'll show him.  Wait... not, it's 11:11 p.m.  That's not a reasonable time to be eating anything.  Plus, that will show nobody but the chocolate and peanut butter who is boss (at which point they obviously would be).

Procrastination #7:  Brush my teeth.  If my teeth are brushed, I won't eat anything else, right?  Get it together, tummy.  The mouth is shut down for the night.

Procrastination #8:  Chat with Susan about my writer's block and get lost in meme searching.  This is kind of like researching for my blog, which is almost as good as writing it, right?

Procrastination #9:  Other general hygiene:  I'm 36!  Shouldn't my skin be done with the pimples already???  And when did my toenails become talons?  Thank goodness I don't have Mom's feet yet.  Those were terrifying.

I'm shamelessly self-promoting my Amazon business here.  Buy my crap!

Procrastination #10:  Check my Amazon sales.  I've got an Amazon store (thank you, Chris), and am always excited for every new sale.  Feel free to shop my storefront by clicking on this procrastination!

Procrastination #11:  Get lost in Amazon, repricing, studying trends, planning the next order, and stalking competitors.  I wish I was actually in the Amazon.  I bet it's warm there.  But their bugs are probably worse than skeeter eaters.  I guess I'm fine here.

Procrastination #12:  Pay Bills.  Good thing, too!  I apparently hadn't paid the water bill in a bit.  Thank goodness for having to blog, or this bill would never have gotten paid and the kids would've been distressed at the lack of water. And electricity too. Oops!  Good thing those don't go on the credit score!  While I'm at it, I'd better go through these other official-looking envelopes.  Why the heck have I been getting AARP junk mail since the week after I turned 30?  That's a pretty neat free Day Bag I'd get for subscribing though.  And why do people also seem to think that it is appropriate to advertise cremation services and tombstone options to me?  While we're asking questions, what's the deal with companies sending plastic mail rather than paper mail now?  They must be in it for the long haul, trying to lure future customers, because all I'm doing is giving the plastic to my kids to use as pretend credit cards.  That's right... I encourage consumer debt in my home.  In other bill news:  We're eligible for a cell phone upgrade and I could pretend that I don't need to update my AAA membership, but who would I be kidding?  I lock my keys in the car at least twice a year, and that bad boy pays for itself.  The last time the car was running and we nearly missed my niece's wedding!  Quite the adventure, right, Peggy??  

Procrastination #13:  Listen to Scott's book that he's listening to while falling asleep.  He's listening to Jane Austen!  I love Jane Austen!  Persuasion is my favorite.  I'm watching Persuasion tomorrow.  Not tonight.  Tonight I'm blogging.  

Ok, it's nearly midnight, and I'm almost to my deadline.  Time to buckle down and get this thing written!

It is a good thing that we're supposed to blog about our lives, because tonight my theme was obviously procrastination. 

10 Ways to Get Your Children to do Chores...Cady Style

Growing up in a family with ten children required an inordinate amount of creativity on the part of our parents. Especially when it came to doing things usually reviled by children. Chores were usually at the top of this list. However, Dad had a way of either tricking us, or cohercing us into doing the dreaded chores.  Here are a few of his best tricks. 

Monte helping Becca mow the lawn

1.  Game Time!  Holy smokes. Dad was the master of this, and I often saw this trait passed own through our brother Matt to his own children.  If something was to be done, just make it a game or contest.  Who can pick up 15 things the fastest? Who can be the first to wash their window? Who makes their bed with the least wrinkles? Awesome! You have bragging rights for the day!

2.  Chore charts.  Mom was a big fan of chore charts. When in doubt, check the chore chart. And with ten kids, you could be pretty thorough about what needed to be done around the house.  For me, the chore I hated most was dishes. Ugh! If you got dishes (usually a three person job: 1 washed, 1 dried, and a third cleared the table and wiped off the counter) it was a 2-hour torture session of work while everyone else watched TV for the night, or rough housed in the living room with Dad. 

Susan, Patty, Becca and Cathy blowing bubbles  in the rock garden.

3.  Money for Chores: Mom and Dad were not big on allowances.  They worked hard to give us food, warmth, and a home. We were expected to help out with everything else. That's part of a family. Pitch in and make it work.  However, every summer, it would be time to do Spring cleaning. Out would come the toothbrushes, and a piece of paper listing special jobs we could do for a little extra money.  It wasn't much, and by golly we were going to earn every penny, but there was something available for every child and ability level, and even a few time-intensive jobs for someone wanting to earn more than a few buck in anticipation of Christmas. 

4.  Threats & Yelling: I'd be a blatant liar if I didn't point out that Dad was an ex-Captain in the Army.  He was not above yelling or threats.  We were often treated like his own home-grown company of soldiers.  Many Saturday mornings he'd wake us to Reveille,  give us 20 minutes to get dressed and eat, then meet us in the backyard for hours of weeding, lawn mowing (with a motorless mower, of course), pruning, and/or tree pruning.  Our house in Lynnwood was high maintenance, but in spite of ten children running rampant all over the lawn, I remember how beautiful it was with giant Rhododendron bushes, Lilac Trees, Walnut Trees, Ivy crawling up the side of the house, and flowering plants cascading down the rock walls. Yeah, it was totally worth it. 

5. Nagging was my least favorite way to get us to do our chores.  Mom often sounded like a broken record.  "______ did you clean the bathroom?"  "_______ do the laundry!" "______ is the laundry done?"  Oh, and I can pretty much guarantee you, chores (especially laundry) will be a part of our Define Normal book.  Oh the stories we can tell about chores!  Ultimately, I think we all got tired of listening to Mom nag.  And those who were able to tune her out, would get a smack to the back of the head by those of us who couldn't.  Shut the woman up and do your chores, already!

7.  Loss of privileges:  Back in the day, TV was a new and exciting prospect.  It was black and white. There was no remote control. There were three channels. And ten kids.  I can tell you diamonds weren't as valuable as screen time when we were kids.  Each child was given a specific allotment of time. 10-15 minutes - not even a full half hour! If we were smart, we'd combine our time with a sibling and be able to watch an entire show, rather than having someone else step up to the TV just as things were getting good and say, "Well, your 15 minutes are up. It's my turn." 

You will work. And you will LIKE it!

So, to have Mom or Dad threaten to take away screen time--for any reason--should have been grounds for calling Child Protection Services for abuse.  But they managed to get away with it for years. And coerce us into doing way too many undesirable chores. Let's not even start with the nights Dad came downstairs and unplugged the TV for a month or more.  That nearly started rioting!

8. Sneak Attack!  Quite often, on a Sunday morning, Dad would pull out the griddle and make us all pancakes.  But there was a catch to this syrupy deliciousness.  One unlucky eater would find a pickle in the middle of their pancake. And if you found the pickle, you had to do the morning dishes! 

9. Incentives: It also wasn't unusual for Mom or Dad to use an incentive.  Tell me, who would pass up an opportunity to drive a sibling to soccer practice to get out of doing a chore? I certainly wouldn't. 

10. Calling the Bluff:  Another thing Dad was really good at was calling our bluff.  We couldn't just wait it out and hope for bedtime to roll around to get out of chores.  Oh, your chores aren't done? I guess you'll stay up until they are.  What? You managed to get to sleep before we noticed said chores weren't done? Let's wake you up extra super duper early so that you will have plenty of time to do them before school.  Don't like it? Too bad. Don't squelch on your chores. 

Crack it Open and Give it a Whirl

As a kid, going into the basement or garage of my parent’s home was like going back in time.  The old

Samples of food found in our basement

books, old clothes, old jewelry, old everything.  Some of it was so old we didn’t even know what it was so we made a game (surprise!) out of guessing what it was and what it was used for.  It was so much fun seeing the old record albums, smelling the dust and must, and seeing all the old...food??  Wait!  What is that tucked back behind the box of Grandma’s ancient sheet music from the 40’s? A quart of tomatoes canned in 1974?  “The seal’s still good.  Let’s crack it open and give it a whirl,” is a phrase I’ve heard way too many times in my life.  Then there is his statement of, “Sugar is like wheat.   It never gets old.”  On the contrary, Dad, some foods do get old.

Let’s talk about the time Dad brought home all the Army Surplus rations for our food storage.  Bless his heart, Dad saw “Free Food” and jumped on that bandwagon.  Unfortunately he missed some of the subtleties that went along with the fine print, like THE FOOD WAS SO OLD THE ARMY DIDN'T EVEN WANT IT!!  It’s all good, though.  We made it through and Grace just wears her hair long to hide the beginnings of a third ear we ground down when she was little.  She barely even remembers the trauma.  Maybe Chris can add a chapter to her cook book entitled, “101 Ways to Prepare Army Surplus Crackers.”  It would read something like this : 1) Throw them away. 2) Haul them to the dump 3) Spread with butter, broil, and feed to the birds.  Note:  The birds won’t eat them, so you’ll be cleaning them up later 4) Loosely crumble and use as slug bait 5) Carve into star shapes and use as Ninja throwing stars...you get the idea.

Anyway, I’ve digressed.  Food.  Old food.  Old edible food.  When we were recently visiting my father-in-law, he took us out to one of his storage sheds and announced to us, “Take anything you want.  I have more than I need and more than I can eat.  You want it, just let me know,” and he meant it.  I was in awe of his collection of stuff.  A phonograph, records, typewriters, books, vases, blankets, fabric from the beginning of time, hand crocheted baby clothes, tatted table cloths, gloves and snowmobiling gear from when my husband was a teenager, and of course, food.  Shelves and shelves of home canned, bottled, and dehydrated food and juices.  

“Peggy, I think you need some of this,” and down would come a #10 can of dried beans.  “And some
of this,” would be accompanied by a couple of quarts of dark, partially crystallized honey.  But my favorite was the ten gallon glass (not plastic) jar of Reed’s candies.  “I know you want this one,” he said, and he was right.  Not necessarily because I wanted to eat the candy, but because it was filled with licorice and root beer flavored candies.  “Sugar is like wheat.  It never gets old,” echoed through my brain.  I think I surprised everyone when I laughed out loud and said, “Yes indeed, I do want that!”

Reed's candy circa 1921

After loading our treasure trove of goodies into the trunk of our car, minus a few rolls of candy, we went inside to “give it a whirl” and taste test them.  When my husband told me that these candies were probably given to his parents by his grandparents, I did some research and discovered that Reed’s candy made licorice and root beer flavors circa 1921.  I’m happy to announce that they weren’t very gummy and actually tasted like licorice and root beer.  What I’m not happy to announce is that I probably just ate candy from one of the original batches made in 1921.  On the other hand, I’m alive to pester my kids another day!  Gotta love our parents.  And our grandparents too. We can learn a lot from their “craziness.”  I can totally see my kids sitting around with my grandkids saying, “Remember the time when Mom cooked lasagna and my fork broke when I cut into it?”  Ya.  They will totally do that, because they’ve already started with that one...

Peggy - #4

Crazy Cady Sisters interview the brothers. Child #2, Prince Cady

Once upon a time in a far off land called Washington, there was a little boy. He was a prince, beloved of his family, especially his seven astonishingly beautiful fair sisters.  He was tall and dark, and moderately good looking in a leaning towards handsome way. He was kind to animals and loved to read, especially long and convoluted books which may or may not have involved elves and fairies and such. He had a wondrous gift with plants and spent many an afternoon in his greenhouse planting and potting and repotting as needed. Indeed his sisters often wondered if he perhaps had installed a large screen television and a gaming system in the greenhouse, so long were his hours therein.

While in his youth this boy shared a room with his younger brother(s), a perfectly nice room which he proceeded to booby trap, to the dismay of all who entered. He would bring whole jars of peaches and eat them within the room, and leave the mason jars scattered throughout. Sometimes it was a land mine you kicked as you teetered by and sometimes it would be a stink bomb of epic proportion.

This prince grew up to be a man who was known throughout the land as a quietly stubborn individual, who did things in his own time and in his own way. He was not particularly interested in what others thought, but rather lived life in his own way and on his own terms.To this day he is still beloved of his family, especially his nieces and nephews who love his ever witty sayings such as “What’s up, chicken butt”, and “Tickle tickle cut the pickle”. 

I sat down with him this week and here is a bit of our conversation:

So,  how did you survive having seven sisters? I remember spending a lot of time holed up in my bedroom, ignoring them as much as possible. I mean, sure it was fun much of the time, but sometimes I just had to slowly back away and let them fight it out among themselves. It was every man for himself.

What was it like being a boy among all the girls? I thought it was normal, and didn’t know any different. Even when it got wild and crazy it was still fun. I liked growing up in a large family, and even today I know that no matter what happens my family is there to support me. Many people don’t have that luxury.

What is the worst thing about having sisters? They are emotional. When my sisters were younger they fought hard and the claws came out. And they hold grudges! One year I had to drive them all to school, and they had the gall to complain because we were tardy a time or two (note: 28 times one semester). Just because I tried to brighten their day and give them a scenic tour of town and the surrounding neighborhoods. Where is the gratitude?

Who was your favorite sister? No comment! Umm, really, I can't choose. Please, don't ask me again.

Gotta run. See ya later, Alligator. In a while, Crocodile.