(In)Convenience Foods

So this morning, anticipating a hectic day, I decided there'd be no easier supper than some Crock-Pot beef stew. I figured I'd just throw it together, let it cook all day, and then bam - I wouldn't have to lift a finger until I dished it into bowls, ready to eat, this evening.

After I dropped Colin off at school, I dragged Diana (that's my Crock-Pot's name, Diana*) out from her resting place, crammed amid a bunch of junk nestled into the cabinet.

*I'm just kidding, but now that you think about it, isn't Diana a great name for a Crock-Pot?

As soon as he heard the noise of me cooking something, Cameron came running. And though I clearly do not recall saying, "Hey Cameron, please come help" ... here he was, pushing a chair up to the counter to stand on.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I'm not a fun mom. I'd rather do things in the kitchen myself and get them done - as quickly and neatly as possible - than have help from my boys. I do not find it adorable and stand by smiling lovingly while kids are covered with flour from head to toe and slopping ingredients into a bowl, like on TV commercials. I don't like to pick eggshells out of whatever I'm making, and I don't like gritty/sticky/slimy messes all over my counters/floors/walls. But because sometimes I let "mom guilt" get the best of me, and I think if I were a good mom, I'd let them help more often ... I consented to let my two-year-old offer his, um, "assistance" this morning.

I showed him how to peel a carrot; he tossed the peelings up in the air like confetti. I diced potatoes; he rummaged through the cabinets, and we had an exchange that went something like this ...

Cameron: "Let's put this in, Mommy!"
Me: "No buddy, that's cinnamon."
Cameron: "Let's put this in!"
Me: "No Cammie, that's vinegar."
Cameron: "Let's put this in!"
Me: "No Cammie, that's baking soda."
Cameron: "Let's put this in!"
Me: "Dude. NO. That's vanilla."

... And so forth. For like five minutes. Then he was all, "Look, a castle!" as he stacked things up ...

Yeah, I buy generic. You got a problem with it?

... and then knocked half the contents of the cabinet onto the floor.

In the meantime, the baby and the dog were getting into the lazy Susan and stringing out the onions and potatoes (side note: why the eff are those things called "lazy Susans" anyway?):

After the addition of the dish towel, a puppet, and a random carrot, my floor looked like this:

This, of course, was before they (Coby and Josie) decided to throw the onions down the stairs and play "fetch."

And while I was retrieving the onions/the baby and fishing onion peel out of the baby's mouth?

Shake, shake, shake went the salt shaker, as Cameron was helpfully salting the beef stew.

... Out of which I had to pick onion peel, an un-chopped carrot, and a spoon.

I finally finished everything up and put the lid on and set the Crock-Pot to cook on low for ten hours. If all goes well, dinner will be ready by six. Although it might taste like a salt lick.

I'd better have the Chinese takeout menu on standby, just in case.