All I wanted to do Monday was provide dinner for my family.
That is ALL.
Yet somehow that went terribly, horribly wrong.
Allow me to backtrack.
Mondays are our craziest day of the week (although we are quickly filling in with semi-crazy days of the week as well. Whoever said homeschoolers stayed “home” was wrong.). On this particular day. we leave casa de phillips around 7:40am and return sometime after 4pm. The children and I put in a full day at Classical Conversations (Foundations in the morning and then I am teaching an art class for siblings…and my kids….of the Essentials students in the afternoon. If you are unfamiliar with CC, I apologize for throwing around such terminology like “Foundations” and “Essentials”. Isn’t inside terminology the worst???). By the time we get home, unload our car (I cart an unhealthy amount of stuff to CC. Part of my packing list involves shower board. This is extreme, people.), eat a snack and put all of our stuff away, dinner time is upon us.
For some reason, my people always want to eat three meals a day. Go figure.
I decided that Mondays this year would be the day of the crock-pot. “Crockin” seemed like the answer to dinner on such a busy day. Everyone on Pinterest pins crock-pot recipes. One lady cooked for a whole year in her crock-pot. I did an event with “The Crockin’ Girls” (and their main PR person is the mom of one of our babysitters) Surely I could swing Mondays and cooking in a crock pot.
Here’s the catch: I have never been able to successfully cook in a crock-pot.
I can cook most things. I have figured out baking successfully. I can even make a roux (but totally had to spellcheck to make sure I spelled that correctly.)
But the whole “crockin” thing is beyond me.
Despite this inadequacy, I have decided to push on. Press forward. Provide a meal for my family that has been simmering on low all day long while we went about with our day.
For this past Monday, I opted for Mexican Chicken Spaghetti. I chose this dish because three out of the four people in our house would eat it and it is normally not something I would fix (Let’s face it, Velveeta…one of the main ingredients of this dish…is not food.). I thought we would all enjoy some spaghetti, this bread (which I have made several times), salad and a veggie come Monday evening.
I had visions of great conversations, clean plates (three out of four) and fully bellies.
Monday afternoon the children and I entered the house after a long day. For various reasons, Monday had stretched from long into beyond crazy long. We were on lock-down at the church where we do CC due to circumstances (not having to do with our community). This meant kids stayed in all day. I taught both morning and afternoon classes with half a voice (Bless the child who raised his hand and told me something was really wrong with my throat). Afterwards the children and I went to TWO shoe stores and the MALL looking for size 12.5 ballet shoes.
The mall, people.
Not just any mall, our local mall which contains an aquarium and Legoland, both of which my children beg to just “swing by real quick.”
We finally drug our selves in the door very close to dinner time. But, hey, I was not worried about dinner because I was crockin that day.
Yet upon opening the door, no delicious smells of melted cheese and spicy chicken met my nose. Rather, I smelled burnt mess.
Yep, our meal was burned black and stuck to the bottom of the crock pot.
I would like to say this was an isolated experience, but it has happened everytime I attempt to cook in a crock-pot. Everything goes from raw to crispy in a split-second. Monday was the breaking point. I was hot. I was tired. I had just braved the mall with two kids (where I had a hot mess of an experience of attempting to buy pricey skincare from a vending machine. Yeah, don’t do that.).
I texted the husband “I am throwing away the crock-pot” and then quickly grabbed two heavy duty trash bags and stuffed the supper-filled crock-pot into them. A quick march to the garage and the bag containing our supper was tossed in the big trash can, thus ending all my dreams of crockin and easy Monday dinners.
The children were elated because the backup plan was pancakes.
At least we are good on our carbs for the week.