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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He's Too Young For Hormones

I needed to go to the store today and so I asked Keegan if he wanted to come along. He said, "No." I should have listened to him. I figured after I let him haul his firetruck with us we'd be fine. Everything went wrong from the minute we entered the store. He wanted one of those oversized carts that looks like a racecar. I never use those. Jeff drives them when we have both kids but I don't have the patience. I reminded Master Keegan of this fact. He responded by crying through the produce department and then freaking out when I had the nerve to stop and pick out kiwis. The horror.
He was getting better by the time we approached free cookie territory. I was picking out the cookie when he spied something much more attractive. Basically anything else in the bakery department. I am driving away and he is screaming, "Cream, cake, I need that." Um no you don't. He cried all the way through most of the store changing his mind every aisle on what he must have. Wine, ice from around the raw fish, wanting me to pick him up. I stopped once and attempted to find out if there was anything going on I could actually do something about. No. I pushed along with him crying, red-faced clutching that fire truck. And of course I got the obligatory stares and looks. He stopped crying long enough to pick out some cheese and then ask for every other yogurt except the one I prefer him to have. He even passed on helping me pick out my cryo diet meals for lunches. That's usually his favorite because he gets to open the freezer doors. Some where down that aisle he decided the fan above his head was fascinating. And he stopped crying and he started pointing things out to me. Finally after a few minutes he looked at me and said, "I stop crying." It was matter of fact. And so I thanked him. He was fine after that. All cute and inquistive and patient while waiting in the pharmacy line. I wish I knew what changed his mind. He was adorable all the way home, through the bike ride, dinner and bedtime. Maybe he was just having a moment and needed to cry it out. I've been there.

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