Is it dinner time yet?

I'm making a crock pot roast today. This was a super awesome idea many moons ago when we were young, childless and working/going to school outside of our home everyday. Homemade dinner! When we arrive home! As if by magic!

Now that we've procreated and I am home with Amy (and S and T) all day, I am beginning to think this crock pot thing was a very, VERY bad idea. For all of you who have been pregnant, you're aware of the heightened sense of smell. Now imagine, if you will, being pregnant and cooking a nice, hearty, meat-and-potatoes dinner...All. Day. Long. Here's a little sample of what my train of thought has looked like today:


10:00 am: Mmmm...that smells so good.

10:00:37: Is it 5:00 yet?

10:01: (baby moves) Hi sweet thing!

10:02: Seriously, it has to have been another 7 hours by now...

10:03: maybe I can have some roast rare for lunch? George probably won't notice if I cut off a chunk or two. Or ten. Right?

10:05: (takes lid off pot and gazes longingly at cooking roast) Maybe I'd better check the clocks to make sure they're still working...

When I've not been playing with/feeding children, this has been my thought process. Seriously, I've somehow arranged a little torture chamber for myself here. Not a wise move.

I wish I knew a way around it, but alas, I don't have the free time toward the end of the day to chop veggies, sear a roast and watch it on the stove for 2-3 hours.

Next time, this will be a weekend meal, when I can escape from the house and try to forget the sumptuous meal cooking in the pot.

Is it dinner time yet?