Alisa. 37. New Hampshire. Married for almost three years to this wonderful, funny, smart guy. Previously married. Went through in-vitro fertilization to have my five year old magical son Keegan. Stepmother to the charming Isabelle (6). Gushingly in love with our baby boy Harper(1). Policy Wonk and dreaded bureaucrat. Lover of fine cuisine, honeybees, truly romantic moments and the underdog.
Curried Beef Short Ribs

Note: I found this was more realistically four servings.

Finishing this dish with lime zest and juice brightens its rich flavors.

Yield 6 servings (serving size: about 3 ounces ribs, 2/3 cup rice, and about 2 1/2 tablespoons sauce)

2 teaspoons canola oil
2 pounds ...continue reading

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Early Peas Green

Today I got to trade in the paint chip I've had for over a year for an actual gallon of paint. It can only mean one thing. Yes kids, tomorrow we paint the nursery. Nevermind that I'm walking like Quasimodo from moving the junk out. I have my special fume reducing mask and I'm ready to roll. The nesting instinct is kicking in big time. I won't be happy until everything is hung up, placed and folded to my specifications. I have this whole organization scheme to separate his clothes by age grouping. What can I say I love structure. I get giddy just picturing the little stacks of diapers, onesies and snuggle sacks. Humor me, it's the only thing I'll have control of once Peanut arrives on the scene.
Apparently I look pregnant. At the mall today this young woman with a stroller smiled in my direction. I looked around and sure enough she was looking at me. She wasn't one of my former clients and I didn't recognize her from anywhere else. Then I got it. She's smiling because I am pregnant and soon to be pushing a stroller just like her. This was confirmed only minutes later when a shoe store clerk rushed over to help me retrieve a box from the bottom shelf. I did kind of look pathetic staring at the shoes and trying to figure out how to bend over. So it's public. Now everybody knows. Let the intrusive belly touching by strangers begin. I can't promise I won't bite.

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