It’s no secret that I am a fully devoted, (borderline obsessed) Jen Hatmaker groupie fan. A modern day Christian hero passionate for social justice, she is easy to admire. A few years back, I ravenously devoured her compelling read, 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess, after a life-changing humanitarian trip to serve women in West Africa.…
Nothing could have fully prepared us for the delightful, complex and unique individual that is our son. He is everything we hoped for, and much more. He fits seamlessly into our family, as if he’s always been here. Still, he’s brought with him a fair share of genuine surprises. For instance, birth marks. Our son (and,…
Yes, Little Man is already a true-blue American citizen. Not all international adoptions work this way, but when he stepped foot on US soil, in April, he was official. We are grateful he now resides in the land of the free. Speaking of nationality, call him Chinese or call him American. Call him Chinese-American, or Asian, or…
Today marks one week post-op for Little Man; he is doing remarkably well. He’s a champ… except at night. Handsome Husband and I have accepted that we may never sleep again. No worries, though, I’ve decided to stop being a martyr and just drink my fully caffeinated coffee each morning, without remorse, like a good…
We just returned home after Griswoldin’ it up in the family minivan for the last two weeks. At last count, we traversed over 2,906 miles, during most of which I acted the part of Front Seat Contortionist– doling out snacks, and later administering medication. If you’ve been following along, you’re aware that Little Man underwent a…
First of all, this isn’t who you think it is. No, her blog hasn’t actually been hacked…although after my post she’ll probably change the password. Badum-ching! My name is Elissa, I make bad jokes, and my dear friend and superior-to-me fellow blogger (who is sans computer access for the time being) has asked me to update everyone to let them know how…
So many loved ones to visit, so little time. It’s a wonderful problem, really. We spent most of the weekend in our hometown. Actually, Salem is no town— it’s a Big Little City. It seemed each place we visited to meet up with friends, we unintentionally ran into others. I forgot what it was like to literally bump…
I’ve found my happy place, my tranquil reprieve from the stress and sterility of medical offices. It’s a 1970’s folk-rock playing, back porch swingin’ kind of place. An oasis of glistening aspens; of earthen, piney aroma, where entire families of quail scurry underfoot and hummingbirds dart just overhead. Husband’s parents have settled in the mountains of Central Oregon,…