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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Not Waving But Drowning

I have decided to write the rest of this week off. It has sucked so far. Been on the verge of tears all morning. I am so glad I have my cubicle walls to hide behind.
Despite the fairly amicable nature of this situation, it still has it's rough patches. I call them "divorce moments." When something is said or happens that reminds me of why I am doing this.
This morning we have a showing scheduled so I was trying to get the house tip top. I said to Keegan, "Dada is going to help you put on your shoes." Tom responded by saying he was leaving for work. Nevermind that he doesn't need to be at work until after me and I still had to do all the baby related chores and drop Keegan off. Yes, Tom did a couple of things to get the house ready, but as usual he doesn't see the load I carry. Or as I suspect, he doesn't care. Maybe it's supposed to be my fault because I went out last night. I selfishly wanted to be at the teen center to observe the two year anniversary of my friend's death.

90% of the time I believe I can do this but right now I'm tired. I just want to get to the point where he isn't able to hurt me anymore.

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