Momming in Moz

Being a mom in Mozambique is the strangest thing I have ever done, and I hear regular momming is pretty crazy. I REALLY don't know what I am doing half the time, ok, ok, most of the time...ALL OF THE TIME. I am being dramatic, but here's the deal, what's weird about it is doing something I have never done outside of the context I have always seen it done in. There are some days I don't know any different, but then there are days I go cold at the thought of his grandparents not squishing his little checks, or get frustrated that there are no restrooms for diaper changes, or panic on Sunday's because I have to hold my in-desperate-need-of-a-nap babe through a 3 and half hour 95 degree church service, or feel suffocated by not being able to go anywhere safely without Matt... It all seems so hard in the moment, but then I realize how trivial it all is. ALL. OF. IT. While there is a learning curve, and sometimes I fail miserably (below you will find a clip with a little description of what happened afterwards. Hilarious!) in our time here with Cedar, God has really put his finger on areas where I am selfish, insecure, and just plain silly. Happiness is not a babysitter on Saturday night or stroller worthy sidewalks. Happiness is, after putting a tired boy down, walking into a living room full of college students singing praises. Happiness is a sweat dabbled baby getting loved on by countless people every Sunday. Happiness is your babe smiling and waving at the "least of these" without judgement and with all the acceptance in the world. Happiness is being in God's will, and for me, that is momming in Moz. 


(To set you up, we have never been to this church before and this is a VERY special event where Matt is presenting the campus ministry movement.) So, what you can't see is that behind me are 35+ elders on the stage, and I don’t know if you noticed the 10ish kids at my feet…because of Cedar. Right as I stop recording Cedar starts screaming, and he won't stop. Obvious solution, a lady comes up from behind me and runs, yes runs, out of a side door on the opposite side of the stage. You guessed it, Cedar starts whaling. I have two choices. One, pretend I don’t hear anything coming from ALL the open doors and windows. Two, get up and walk across the platform in front of Matt as he is speaking and rescue my tired, sweaty, and hungry babe. After about a minute, I look over to see a lady waving her arms at me to come outside. I am trying to politely be the BIGGEST distraction ever when I hear, in Portuguese, the pastor stop the presses to ask me to say something to the congregation. So, I literally spin on my heel and say something (probably a very confusing something) then scamper off to get my boy. You can laugh. Matt and I did, but we waited a couple of weeks. ;) PURE Moz momming.