OPERATION CROCKPOT

In my spare time I peruse Facebook and Pinterest.  One can find out lots of great information on both sites. On Facebook, you can find out who went to the gym, who is having a good or bad day, who's sick, who's depressed and who has too much time on their hands.  You can literally find out anything on Facebook.  Pinterest, oh how do I love thee?  I love thee around the world and back again.  It is FABULOUS!  It is amazing how many ideas you can get there.

The other day I was on Facebook when I noticed some one's post about 40 meals in 4 hours.  Alright, I took a nibble and clicked on the link.  It seemed legit. The link took me to a site entitled:  Who Needs A Cape (just in case you are interested).  The very title intrigued me because you know who does need a cape?  ME!  I need a cape or a clone.  May be both, yes I need both!  A girl can dream.

This website claims you can make forty meals in four hours.  I am reading the plan, the recipes (all of which sound delicious) and decide to take the challenge.   How hard can it be to prepare forty crockpot meals, place them in freezer bags, seal and throw it in the freezer for later use.  I can do this!  I am going to be prepared to feed my family for at least forty days.  Yes!  I. AM. GONNA. ROCK. THIS! The great news, they have have it all set up for you.  Master Shopping List - Check.  Recipes - Check.  I went to bed excited about my shopping excursion the next morning.

The best laid plans....You can finish the rest of the that cliche statement.  At around 4:30am, I was awakened by a child calling my name. "Mom! Mom! MOMMY????"  This is when I think to myself, "Doesn't she see her Dad laying over there, peacefully sleeping?"  I digress.  I peel open my eye and see the littlest of the clan standing there and she begins to tell me she is sick.  Not only was she sick but she was "sick" downstairs by the couch, by the bathroom door, by the island and no worries, I have a bowl now.  My response, I am sorry honey....go lay down on the couch and back to sleep.  I was awoken again about an hour or so later by my husband, informing me Sarah had thrown up all over the place but no worries, he had cleaned it up.  Dang it!  I really thought I had dreamt the whole conversation.  After all, I have plans to go to the commissary (an hours drive) as soon as I got the littles on the school bus.  This should have been my first clue this wasn't going to turn out as amazing as I had first thought.

Since Sarah was going to be home with me all day, I decided no time like the present to get the kitchen ready for my project.  I tended to Sarah as needed.  She was overall, happy.  If I had to guess, it was the unlimited popsicles that kept her in positive spirits. She slept for about 2.5 hours with Mabel at her side.  When she finally woke, she seemed to be feeling a little better.  I determined I could still make the trip to the commissary when the twins got home, after all, her amazing (because he cleans up vomit) father would be home soon enough.

Even my best attempts to be organized are foiled by, none other than, myself.  Look, some people are naturally "together".  I, however, am not one of those people.  I had a master shopping list - it should be easy enough to find the items I need.  They were even separated and organized, primarily by topic; Dry ingredients, wet ingredients, meats, etc.  Helpful, right?  Nope, not for me.  The only way this would have been helpful to me is if they were listed by aisle, section and shelf number and even then, I probably still would have struggled.  Not to mention, the prices at the commissary are typically way cheaper than your average grocery store.  I am looking for one thing and then a dang squirrel runs through the aisle and Shut the front door! Brand name 28 ounce canned tomato sauce for 75 cents???  I need ten of those and NO WAY!  There are squirrels all over the commissary.

I am about half way done, my cart is full and lucky for me, a nice employee sees my overflowing cart and fetches me another.  Hello customer service.  She takes my full cart and puts it in a coral of sorts with a sign, "Don't bother, I'm still shopping" or something to this effect.  Finally I am finished and head to wrangle my other cart.  I am now in line, it's my turn and they direct me to register. If you have never shopped at a commissary, it is very military.  You shall not pick your own line, we will pick for you.  You shall not bag your own groceries, as we have supplied military spouses (mainly non english speaking) to bag them and you will tip them.  Anyway, I start unloading my groceries onto the conveyor belt I was directed to.  Alright, plenty of room to get a good start on emptying my cart.  Then it happens.  The lady in front of me whips out a stack of coupons two inches thick.  I am not even joking, it could have been three inches thick.  So it begins....beep...BEEEP!

"Oh dear! You needed two of those to use this coupon ma'am"
"Did I?  Honey (her husband), Can you run back and grab one more?"
Beep...Beep...BEEEEEEP!
"This coupon says you have to purchase X with that"
"Honey, Can you go grab xyz?"

This cycle continued over and over and over.  I waited in line for a good forty minutes while the cashier and customer dealt with all of her coupon drama.  Quite frankly, I should have been given a Nobel Peace Prize for not going completely and totally balistic.  Seriously.

It's finally my turn to check out and the cashier is visibly frustrated.  I am thinking to myself, "Why does Class 6 close so early?" and she began to ring up my items. The non-english speaking bagger, bagging away and I am watching my total go up, up and up....I can not admit how much I spent on this particular trip.  Let's just say my family will not be starving for at least forty days (So says Who Needs A Cape)

After I paid for my groceries, I went to get my car and pulled up to the loading area.  The non-english speaking bagger pushed my four carts over and started to load them into my trunk.  Since I had waited forever and a day to check out, I decided to help the process along and started to grab some of my bags.  The bagger kept cutting me off.  Now, they work for tips.  I get that.  I was in no way going to short her her tip.  I simply wanted the car loaded so I could make the trek home.  Finally the car was loaded, I handed her the tip - she thanked me (at least I think she thanked me) over and over.

The next day, was THE day.  I gathered all of the recipes, spices, veggies, meats, ziploc bags, colorful sharpies and my apron.  I was ready for Operation Crockpot.

I began putting the recipes together, filling the ziploc bags with them and placing them one after another.  I worked all morning.  About three hours in I had four bags done.  Uh.  Yeah.  Ummmm.  According to the website, I should have around thirty meals put together by now.  I had four! Let me count these bags again.  One, two, three and four.  Yup four bags done.  Well, four bags is more than none, right?  At this point I am completely exhausted from all the work, despite the fact that Miss Sarah was home again and helping me.  I needed to eat something and take a nap.  Who knew prepping meals could be so draining?

Eventually I woke and lucky for me the twins were home from school.  You know what that meant?  Child labor.  Abigail was more than willing, well sort of, and the littles were somewhat helpful.  Emma, she was not so helpful because she was nowhere to be found.  With the help of three children, we were able to knock out several more.  Forty?  Yeah, no! The following day, I put together a few more.  Forty?  You guessed it!  No.

Quite honestly, I am not sure if it is even possible to accomplish forty meals in four hours.  I had darn near a staff and wasn't able to accomplish forty meals in four hours! Operation Crockpot was still a success.  I have several meals prepared and work on more meals as I have time.  My advice to anyone thinking of pulling off their own Operation Crockpot - start small.

Sincerely,
The Queen of Insanity

Guess Who's Back??

Holy cow! It's been so long since I have blogged, I had to come back to my original blog because I can't remember the new blog password!  Regardless, I am back from my blogging sabbatical and I have lots and lots of stuff to blog about it - Lucky for you my plans for the day were derailed, thanks to a stomach virus striking my youngest offspring overnight.


You may or may not remember my crazy schedule.  It left me with absolutely no personal time to reflect and/or share my insanity with you.  I couldn't complete a thought in my head let alone type it for your enjoyment.  Those days are somewhat over now and I hope to get you all caught up quickly.


About two months ago, I found some time to sit down on the couch and relax.  Within moments I had one child on the arm of the couch next to me, one on my lap and the other at my side (I am assuming Emma was in her room - as this is where she spends a great deal of her time).  I looked at each of them and thought to myself, "Dear God give me a break already!", I just wanted to sit there, lifeless on the couch and lose myself in Lifetime Movie Network.  I tried to shoo them away, no dice.  I tried threatening them with chores, still no dice.  I tried every trick I could think of...they sat firmly beside me.  They simply would not budge!  Finally I said, "DO YOU ALL HAVE TO SIT ON TOP OF ME? I NEED SOME PERSONAL SPACE!".  They all looked at me like I was crazy and then it flew out of the mouth of my babes, "But Mom we miss you!".  At that moment, I knew what I had to do.


Two weeks later, I turned in my immediate notice to CVS and that, my friends, was that.




After quitting my part-time job, there was something else that had been eating away at me for sometime - Olivia's gymnastics.  Not only did gymnastics eat away any and all free-time, it ate away the entire fabric of our lives.  Let's face it, shall we?  Olivia is eight years old.  Does an eight year old have to be in the gym five days, sixteen hours a week?  NO! Let me clarify, this was not the only reason I was miffed.  I was downright aggravated, pissed off if you will, at the lack of coaching my daughter was getting.  I knew in my heart she could do better.  I took a brave step and called another gym. 


When I told Olivia we were going to try out a new gym, she was a little shocked.  Her first response was, "Won't my coach be mad at me?".  My response, "Quite frankly Olivia, I don't give a damn!"  HA!  Just kidding, I said it in child friendly terms.  I proceeded to tell her all the perks of the new gym - First and foremost, more free time to play with her friends!  Which lead to her next response, "What about my friends?".  I replied in the nicest way possible, stating two things:  1.  We aren't paying for you to do gymnastics to make friends - you can get them for free at school! 2.  Okay that was kind of harsh....we will stay in contact with your friends from the gym, I promise.  As it turned out, several of her friends came with us - Problem solved!


Changing gyms was bittersweet.  We left behind many friends but in the end it was truly the best choice.  Olivia only has gymnastics three days a week now, unless we do a private.  She has some of her friends from the previous gym with her and is making new ones.  She had to go down a level in training (further explanation of my aggravation) but the benefit has been regaining success.  She has had two competitions since the move and each time her scores have improved immensely.  The best part of it has been seeing her happiness and love of gymnastics return.


The best part for me, personally, I have free-time again!  My kids are still close by me when I am home - I think they just like me and I am okay with that!


Sincerely,
The Queen of Insanity