The Crazy Cady Sisters have known each other all their lives. With 179 years of accumulated life-experience, we are well versed in Cady-isms.
Between the four of us, we’ve experienced:
· 18 businesses ventures
· 22 children acquired in a variety of ways (marriage, birth, adoption, etc)
· 5 1/2 grandchildren
· Lived in 5 different states
· One of us went to college to be a concert pianist.
· On of us thought about going to college to be a concert pianist.
· One of us is an addictions counselor.
· One of us is addicted to diet soda.
· Volunteer for 8+ organizations
· 1 lived above a mortuary
· 1 was chased by a K-9 unit while toilet papering.
· 3 of us were homeless for 2.5 months while we toured the United States.
· 1 of us can say the Pledge of Allegiance in three different languages.
· We sold rocks door to door.
· 1 used to transcribe the newspaper into the computer when she got bored.
· Are joint owners of WhodunnitMysteries.com
In March, 2017 we decided to band together to form Crazy Cady Sisters to co-author a hilariously heart-warming non-fiction story about parenting, child-rearing, and growing up in a family with ten children.
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas! And in the Cady household that means kicking your creativity into high gear.
What would you do if you had ten children and no money for Christmas? And what exactly does Christmas look like when ten sets of hands are poised, ready to rip open their Christmas gifts – is it chaos, or do Monte and Barbara make us sit quietly, tormenting us as we watch each and every present opened by our siblings? What about decorations? Traditions? Jokes? Christmas trees and more? The questions and possibilities are endless, and you never know what the answer may be in the Cady home.
Follow our family as we recount some of our favorite, least-favorite, and downright bizarre stories of parenting and growing up in a family with ten siblings! We’ll add a touch of nostalgia by focusing entirely on our favorite holiday of the year: CHRISTMAS!
My curiosity was
piqued, and slowly I maneuvered myself around him to get a glimpse of what was
going on. I deciphered a pair of black boots at Dad’s feet, then red
suede pants revealed themselves. A matching full-bellied jacket sat up against
a raised flower bed that formed the perimeter of the porch. Dad messed
with the jacket, patting it down and smoothing it. My alarm grew when I saw him
shove a crumpled newspaper into this poor fool’s jacket. Without warning, Dad
bound to his feet, the full revelation of his prize causing me to stumble back
in fear. Sitting propped against the wall was a decapitated Santa!