I never thought I'd be a middle-aged mother in love with her Crock-Pot, but here I am. I almost feel like I should start popping valium and vacuuming in high heels and an eyelet lace apron. Sometimes, I wonder where the other 'me' went! Did I really used to stay up all night with girlfriends, ride a motorcycle, go to shows? Are these really holes for piercings, or was I born with them?

Anyway, I do love my Crock-Pot, and you can make fun of me if you must. This last year or so has seen way too much take-out and spaghetti for anyone's dining pleasure, so I knew it was time to act, and act I did. I now have the Cadillac of Crock-Pots. The sucker is huge, and comes with multiple settings, a timer, spoon rack, lid rack, clips for carrying—all the bells and whistles. I hate to admit it, but it was actually my Mother's Day gift. No pedicures for me, just more kitchen appliances.

Really though, you should see me cook now. I throw some meat in a marinade the night before, and then pop it in the Crock-Pot in the morning, and we are so gourmet. I started with Slow Cooking for Dummies, and moved on to Betty Crocker's Slow Cooker Cookbook, and have rarely been disappointed. I've done beef roasts, pork loin, black bean soup, white bean soup, chili, shredded beef for tacos, potatoes, queso...you name it. And suddenly, it's like, I'm a good cook! My family eats the food that took me about ten minutes of my time to prepare. Crock-Pots and cocktails, that's all the magic I need.