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