Thursday 13 - Growin' Up in Mozambique

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Esmé’s Mommy here.
Esmé had an “accident” late this afternoon on our bed that went all the way through the duvet, pillow, sheets, and mattress. Let that be a lesson to anyone who thinks it is cute when their babies escape during diaper changing sessions.
And of course when the duvet was in the washing machine, something weird happened and the water overflowed all over the garage. So now I’m waiting for the duvet to dry, and I don’t want to think about the garage.
Let’s think about good things, instead. The dog still has not eaten the bunnies! He literally salivates every time I let them out of their cage. And those things eat, let me tell you! I’m feeding them three times a day and they don’t leave a drop, a scrap, in their cage. Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?
On to Thursday Thirteen – how you know you’re a 15-month-old American bebe growin’ up in Mozambique.

1. You fall asleep while riding on the potholed roads and wake up on the smooth tarmac. And you pray before every drive in the car – even just around the block.
2. Going to the doctor for shots is an all-day excursion across the border. And when you get funny bumps on you, you’re treated for both chicken pox and fly maggots.
3. You have to add pages to your passport before you’re 15 months old.
4. You spent your first Christmas at the beach eating sand.
5. You know the word “no” in four languages.
6. The first animal you REALLY saw in the wild was a giraffe. And one of your first words was "monkey." And you know the sound a monkey makes for "Old MacDonald."
7. Your first pet dog is a vicious looking Rottweiler mix watchdog with a reputation for biting (though never you, of course).
8. You complain about cold water in your bath, only to have Mommy tell you to be glad you didn’t have to carry that water 2 miles on your head.
9. The first fruits you ate were mango and papaya. And you never ate Cheerios until you were 13 months old. And when you don’t eat your food and your Mommy tells you she’s going to give your dessert to the starving children in Africa, she means it. Literally.
10. You sleep under a mosquito net. And you started using mosquito repellent long before you were “old enough.”
11. There is ALWAYS sunscreen in your diaper bag. All year long.
12. As far as you know, Shoprite is the only grocery store in the world. And you always check the ice cream before you buy it to make sure it hasn’t melted and been refrozen.
13. You know that frangipani blossoms are edible.

I was looking for something profound, like “You know what it means to share with those in need” or “You know how blessed you really are,” but at 15 months, I think those types of lessons still escape the little mind . . .
The best I could come up with is "You know it's just as much fun to play in the dirt and ant hills with the village kids as as it is to watch Sesame Street on the BIG screen TV with your rich buddies." And she DOES know that.

Skateboard Park

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On my 13th month birthday, I got to go to a skateboard park for the first time! It was in Parksville close to where my Grandma & Grandpa live.

Here is a video of me:

Ambassador Bebe

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Today we went to Machumbutane for their church dedication. Machumbutane is way out in the bush, down a long long long sandy road. True to regular form, I slept through the bumps and stayed awake on the smooth tarmac. I am becoming a true Mozambican!

Mommy was a little trigger happy at the Machumbutane church dedication today, so you shall see lots of photos here.

I seem to have achieved celebrity status at times, as you’ll see in some of the photos. Mommy and I have been talking about how being God’s ambassador here in Mozambique is my most important job, even more important than skateboarding!

The new church was very full, as you can see here. There was the group of South African volunteers (staying at our house now) that helped build this church. Plus two busloads of volunteers from Auburn Adventist Academy (in Washington, USA) came too and managed to fit inside after this photo was taken.

Here I am playing during the church service:


Here are the cows outside listening to the sermon. I said "moo" when I saw them.


Here is the old church:


Here are the new toilets. They look pretty, but be glad this photo isn't scratch-n-sniff!


Here I am playing Zacchaeus:


Here are some friends I met:


And another friend . . .


And another friend who couldn't stay awake for the whole thing. (We finished lunch around 5 o'clock, just to give you an idea of the timing of things.)



Here I am meeting some new friends:


And here I am with my entourage while taking a walk:



Mommy says this photo reminds her a little of Princess Di or some other celebrities:
Here I am saying goodbye to my friends from inside the truck:
And here are a couple of videos for good measure. The first is the children singing a song, and the second is me and Auntie Susan walking around the church with some friends.

Naptimes (or Lack Thereof)

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Esmé’s Mommy here.

Now I’m betting I’m not the only parent who spends some days counting down the hours and moments to naptime. All the work I need to do, or just the need for a little "me" time, is pressing on my mind.

So what do you do when the baby will NOT go to sleep? I may have a schedule for Esmé, but she’s made it quite clear that it’s not HER schedule as far as sleep times are concerned. Some days she skips morning naps, other days she skips afternoon naps, and sometimes she just takes forever to fall asleep at night. And some days it’s a combination of the three, or all three.

So I have a couple of options: 1) take her out of her crib and let her play, 2) sit close to her crib and keep her stocked with books and toys, or 3) leave and let her cry.

(All you perfect parents out there – trust me – letting her cry does NOT result in her taking a nap eventually. I will not tell you how long I’ve left her in there for fear of incriminating myself, but if she’s decided not to sleep, she DOES NOT sleep.)

I’m doing my best to avoid option 1 for her own best interest. If I’m feeling like a good Mommy, I go with option 2. But some days I just HAVE to go with option 3 for my own sanity, or so I tell myself.

So I go to work or try to relax with the sobbing soundtrack in the background. For some reason, it’s never as productive or restful as I’d hoped.

And when I finally decide it’s time to commute her prison sentence, I walk into the bedroom to the most heartbreaking face in the world. But here’s what I love:

The moment she sees me, the tear-streaked, snot-nosed face brightens and smiles peak through. As she reaches for me, she gives me the hugest, sweetest hugs and kisses and smiles. It’s as if she is saying, "Mommy, you’re the best Mommy in the world. I love you SO much. I’m SO glad to see you."

No grudges, no guilt trips. Just love.

Why couldn’t all of us forgive and forget like that?

What's In a Name?

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I want my Grandma – she was supposed to be here by now! Mr. Jucundo went to pick her up across the South African border in Nelspruit. Mommy says they got stuck at the border (this is Africa, after all), so Daddy went to pick her up at the border.

Since she's not here yet, I thought I'd tell you about our Word of the Day activity. Every day Mommy and I learn the etymology of one new word. That way, when I start speaking English, I'll have a superb vocabulary. Right now I can only speak Portuguese – the people we meet on the streets all understand me and translate for Mommy that I'm too cold, I need my head or feet covered, the sun is in my eyes, etc.

So I am learning all kinds of cool words, and sometimes we play games with them – like when the word was "binary," we had a binary parade with my Noah's Ark felts.

Some cool words I've learned are my first and middle names: Esmé Elaine. Both have French origins. Esmé means "loved," and Elaine means "shining light." So my nomenclators (Mommy & Daddy) gave me names with both a root and a purpose.

If I was a Native American, my name would be "Highly Esteemed Flashlight."

Oh yeah – Mommy gave me my first name (which is a common Afrikaans name), and Daddy gave me my middle name (which is Mommy's middle name), so I am a good representative of both of them!

Hola from Mozambique!

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I am FOUR months old today, and I think it's about time to get started blogging. Mommy will have to help me type, of course - I can hit the mouse pretty good (especially when Mommy's reading the online books too slow and I want to move to the next page), but my spelling is not so good yet.

So, where do I start? Well, who am I? We sing in the mirror every morning: "Who am I? I am Esme'. I am special to Jesus." I really like mirrors - sometimes they make me giggle. And then Mommy and Daddy giggle, too. Today Mommy and I had several giggle sessions; they were so much fun Mommy is going to add them to my daily checklist. We'll have to talk about the daily checklist later.

But I digress. Back to who I am. I was born April 3, 2007 at 1:06 a.m. in Roseburg, Oregon, and I weighed 7 lb 7 oz. My parents' names are Mommy and Daddy, and they are the BEST parents in the WORLD. (I have to say that, since I would have a hard time making a living right now if I got kicked out of the house.) They are also VERY OLD. Daddy just turned 38!

Just before I turned 6 weeks old, we got on a plane and started flying to South Africa. It was a LONG trip, but I did really well, and only one plane was delayed while Mommy changed my VERY POOPY diaper. She calls me a world class traveler.

After spending a few days with Daddy's family there, we flew to Maputo in Mozambique, where we live now. We are working with Maranatha on building 1,000 churches here, and I am the youngest worker. If you want to keep tabs on this project, check out Auntie Susan's blog.
And now, a lifetime later, I am much bigger. Last week at 16 weeks, I weighed 16 lb 12 oz (7.6 kg).

Well, I have lots more to say, but it is past my bedtime now, so check in again later!