The Moberg Family

Tag: Mexico

  • Summa’ Time

    [WARNING: This blog post got really, really, really super long…! That’s what happens when you blog about an entire SUMMER in one post!]

    I’ll admit. Our first few months here, we were pretty swamped. With YWAM training, with my first trimester, with adjusting to life in a foreign country, with Elliott’s first birthday and house build, etc., etc….It was busy. So, needless to say, we didn’t get out much. When we had a free day, we couldn’t wait to stay in our pajamas all day and just stare at the walls to recover. Exploring the city wasn’t exactly at the top of our list of “fun things to do.”

    When we were in Tacoma in May, someone asked us, “So what do you guys like to do for fun down there?”

    And the first thing that came to my mind to say was, “We cross the border into San Diego, pull off at the first gas station, stick our heads underneath the faucet and guzzle the water straight from the tap…just because we can!”

    And that’s when I realized we hadn’t really had very much “fun” since we had moved down here. I remember those first few months we were here, the only thing that sounded “fun” to do was cross the border and do things we couldn’t do here…like drink from the tap, run our toothbrushes under the faucet, use our cell phones, go to Target…things you come to take for granted when you live in the good ‘ol U-S of A!

    But, we adjusted. We got working cell phones. We mastered the art of using bottled water to brush our teeth. And, to top it all off, summertime brought glorious weather which compelled us to get outside and discover. We weren’t so busy getting settled in the midst of everything else we were juggling. And so…we have had some FUN!! Here are some photos from our Summer to highlight what we do for “fun” around here… 🙂

    Playas Boardwalk

    There’s a little city between us and Tijuana, about 20 ish minutes away, called Playas. As close as it is, we had never been to its amazing boardwalk! These pictures are from the end of May, and I can’t believe how young Elliott looks! (And how small my belly looks!) 🙂

    The beautiful ocean
    The Boardwalk
    Daddy is simply the BEST.
    “Burr!” (Bird!)
    “What are those silly birds doing flying into the ocean??” Elliott ponders.
    Loving life on the Boardwalk.

    Rosarito Market

    Here’s your pretty typical Mexican market, just minutes from our house… we finally made our way there in June!

    We made Elliott stay in the stroller and he wasn’t a huge fan of that…just too many temptations to let him run around freely!!
    Katie 🙂

    Visit from Grandma & Grandpa Moberg

    Ken and Marilyn came to visit in July, via Florida :). They have always been quite the cross-country travelers!! Very impressive. We had several fun highlights with them while they were here.

    Slow mornings, relaxing on the couch…
    Playdough with Grandpa!
    Sportin’ Mama’s glasses at the beach!
    Walking along the beach with Grandma
    Elliott trying to be brave in the water while Mama and Grandma cling to him for dear life :).
    The Rosarito Market
    Elliott-o!
    2 out of the 3 Mexican Mobergs

    Babymoon

    For the first time EVER, we left our little buddy alone…for TWO WHOLE NIGHTS! While Brian’s parents were in town, they let us get away to San Diego to take a little Babymoon before our sweet girl arrives.

    Eating breakfast a delightful little cafe one morning.

    Rosarito Beach

    I’ll be honest, I never imagined we’d be the people who lived 2 minutes from the beach. I mean, I know we lived 30 seconds from Ruston Way in Tacoma, but I’m talking about the real kind of beach, where you go to play in the sand and swim in the ocean. But it sure is FUN to be able to hop over to the beach for an hour or two in the afternoon any time you want! Elliott loves it!! July, August, and September were finally hot enough to be able to enjoy the glory of Rosarito Beach in its fullness…

    Learning how to use a shovel
    Elliott still doesn’t really like to have his hands dirty, but he’s learned how to play hard in the sand, trusting that we’ll help him wipe off his hands when we’re all done playing :).
    Trying to play paddle ball like the big boys!

    One of Elliott’s FAVORITE things to do at the beach is to stand at the edge of the water and let the waves wash up and get him.

    Look at that face!
    Pure delight.
    AND the water is pretty cold 🙂

    Soccer Field!

    Our YWAM campus has been building a soccer field the last few months, and it was finally finished this summer. Talk about GLORY!! For the kid who eats, breathes, and sleeps balls of all sorts, this is a dream come true. Brian brings him there on weekend mornings (while I get to sleep in!!) and we usually get at least one or two other visits throughout the week. Elliott kicks the soccer ball the entire length of the field and can even score a goal if he wants to :).

    How cool is THIS?!

    Swings and Slides

    There is this tiny little play structure in our housing community that provides for a good hour of entertainment for little buddy. He loves climbing the ladder and going down the slide, and he will do it over and over and over and over again until he’s so exhausted that he’s falling over.

    Side note: Several months ago, I taught Elliott that when you see flowers, you smell them. His “smelling”, however, comes out more like a snort. It’s SO CUTE. So any time he sees flowers or trees, he does this snort thing, and I just think it’s the greatest thing ever. So on our walk down to the little playground, he found some flowers to sniff…if you look closely you can see his little wrinkled nose as he snorts!

    Stopping to smell the roses…
    Swinging with Daddy
    Climbing up the ladder…
    Yippee!!
    “This is so much fun!!!”

    Swimming!

    Well, it may have taken 7 months of pressing and prodding our landlord, but she FINALLY got our pool fixed for us, and let me tell you–it has been GLORIOUS. There are days that this pregnant lady stays in her swimsuit all day, and may go swimming three different times! And although I did get a SUPER cute maternity swimsuit that I’m sure you’re dying to see, there will be no posts of me in my swimsuit…ever :). But trust me…there are days I live in the pool!

    Pointing to the ball…of course 🙂
    This is his FAVORITE ball, and his favorite thing to do in the pool…throw every object he can find in the pool and let Daddy fetch them :).
    Loving the snorkel.

    Killing Bugs

    It gets SO HOT inside on certain days that it’s an absolute necessity to keep a few doors open to get a breeze going in our house. There’s one door that leads out to a balcony that has no screen. Thus, we get gazillions of flies inside throughout the day and way too many MOSQUITOES inside at night. Yes, you heard me–mosquitoes. After my Dominican Republic experience, I don’t think I would have agreed to move to Mexico had I known that mosquitoes existed here. Anyhow. Elliott spends a good majority of his day watching us kill the gazillions of flies, and he has become an expert at getting those “buhs!” himself…

    Good ol’ fashion PLAY

    Playing with Brian’s old toys…the hard hat and drum set from when HE was a kid…I love it!!

    In early August, Elliott decided he wanted to start setting the table :). He is fairly obsessed with cups, plates, bowls, etc. One evening as I was making dinner, he ran over, grabbed my hand, and dragged me to the cabinet where we keep all of the dishes. He knows he’s not allowed to open it (it’s a floor-to-ceiling cabinet, so he can easily open it), so he was clearly asking me for permission to open it. So I did, wondering what was going on, and he kept pointing to all the kids’ plates, cups, bowls, etc. I asked if he wanted a cup and he said, “Yeah!” so I gave him one. He runs out of the room with it and then seconds later, runs back into the kitchen, grabs my hand, and pulls me back to the cabinet. Well after this same pattern repeating several times after I had given him a plate and a bowl and another cup, I finally went into the other room to see what was going on…

    …and I discovered this.
    Now that all the dishes are out, it’s time to organize.

    I love what a helper my little man is!!!

    He has mastered the art of Duplos, and loves building towers as high as he can…

    The following photo is very classic…what a typical HOT summer day looks like for me and my little buddy:

    Taking a break from playing to snack. I love this photo…Me, suspending Elliott on the counter with my belly, feeding him a banana while he plays with the balls in the fruit bowl (limes). Just look at how darling my Elliott is…
    Doesn’t he look like a little muscle man?!?!

    Last, but certainly not least…although I could devote an entire post to the incredible awesomeness of having our dear friends the McDowells live with us this summer, these few pictures will have to do…

    Suzanna and I got not one, but TWO, special date days all to ourselves in San Diego. TOTAL GLORY.

    Registering at Babies R Us!
    We had *SO* much fun that we COMPLETELY lost track time of time. At one point I realized I was feeling kind of weak and when we looked at the clock it was after 5 pm!! I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink in HOURS. NOT okay for this prego mama. Jamba Juice saves the day. 🙂
    On our second day in SD, we spent a good majority of the afternoon at THE CHIROPRACTOR’S OFFICE. If you know me, this doesn’t surprise you. But WHO KNEW that Suzanna and I shared the same passion for Chiropractic?! She even introduced me to a whole new branch of chiropractic which lets you sit in these UH-MAZ-ING chairs when you’re done being adjusted. So we sat there, and talked chiropractic for an entire afternoon…*BLISS*

    Having our dear friends here was nothing short of a glorious, incredible gift from God. To sum up? Laughter. Prayer. Exhortation. Encouragement. Deep love. Lots of kids. Lots and lots of FOOD. The Word. Richness in every way.

    Al the kids worshiping together!
    As Suz put it, “A break-our-hearts-goodbye.” This was right before the tears started to flow like rivers. We love you guys so much!!!!

    Well, there you have it. A little glimpse into our Summer and what we do on the weekends for fun around here…and, admit it…you’re finally ready to come visit us now, aren’t you?!?!

  • Livin’ La Vida en Mexico

    Here’s a little glimpse into our world here! We spend pretty much every day on the YWAM base so we thought we’d let you into our lives through some pictures :). The Defender Center, which is the main building on the YWAM base here, is where all of our meetings and meals are held. It is a beautiful, brand-new building.

    The Defender Center (a company called Defender donated the money for the building to be built…hence, the name)
    Not a bad view, eh? This is the view from the Defender Center
    Inside the Defender Center: the reception area and a cute little sitting area.
    Inside the Defender Center: The Coffee Shop!
    Inside the Defender Center: Not the best picture, but this is the main area where we have big meetings and eat all of our meals. It's hard to tell how big the room is, but it's quite large.

    Our Classmates:

    The beautiful women! Malene (from Norway), Chrystal, Angela, and Rayel (all from Minnesota)
    The manly men! Luis, Jonas (Mexico) and Josh (Canada)

    The fearless staff leading our DTS:

    Giezi (the leader of our school) and his lovely wife Amanda. Amanda is leading a different school right now, but I wanted to include her because I think she's pretty cool :). We LOVE this couple and can't wait to glean from them and get to know them better!
    Scott (WA), Josh (OK), Lora (CA) and Chrissy (Germany)! We are blessed to have such an amazing staff leading us!! We love them all!

    Fun Facts:

    * We live in a quiet housing community with a guard shack called San Marino. Our house is 1.5 miles (from front door to front door) from the YWAM base.

    * However, when we head home from the YWAM base, there is no exit for our housing complex so we have to go past our house and turn around at another exit. Thus, the drive home is 3.5 miles!

    * We have a little family of bunnies living in our neighborhood :).

    * We are 24.3 km (which is 14.6 miles for all you Americans out there) from the border crossing. Now that we have our fast pass to get across into the U.S., our average wait to cross will be more like 15 minutes instead of 2 plus hours. With this pass, crossing the border into the U.S. will be a similar length drive as the drive from Tacoma to Seattle…usually about 45-60 minutes.

    * However, crossing BACK into Mexico goes MUCH quicker because they are much less picky about who enters their country. 🙂 It takes about 25 minutes to get from the YWAM offices in National City to our house, and we usually don’t even get stopped at the border!

    * The food on the YWAM base is actually pretty darn good! (I’m soooo thankful!!) The cook is a great guy named Thomas who is from Colorado (holla!), went to culinary school, and decided to serve the YWAM base rather than work in some fancy restaurant!

    * There is a Starbucks (Susanne is happy) and a Costco (Brian is happy) north of us in Tijuana, which is about 20 minutes away.

    * There is a little city called Rosarito (a few minutes south of us) which is where we will likely do most of our grocery shopping. There is also a Walmart, an Applebees, and a Burger King in Rosarito.

    * They have TONS of little taco stands everywhere with real, legit Mexican tacos (I would hope so!). You order as much food as you want, eat it, go back for more food, and then pay when you’re all through. But there is no bill! They just trust everyone to be honest and tell them what they ate. I think that’s totally crazy!!

    * If there’s one reason to come visit us, it’s to go to the movie theaters–they are SO CHEAP here!! We haven’t been yet, but we’ve heard that they’re quite nice and only $3!

    * In our old house in Tacoma, we saw the sun rise every morning over the Puget Sound. In our new home, we watch the sun set every evening over the Pacific Ocean!

    * It is COLD here! Do not be deceived by the whole “Mexico-is-hot” facade!! I wear sweaters, my Uggs, and scarves every day!! We are right on the ocean, and so I think the breeze carries in the cool air from the water. During these winter months, it is for sure CHILLY!!

    * We have plenty of room for YOU if you’d like to come visit! You will always have a place to stay :).

  • Dreams

    “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” Proverbs 13:12

     

    I grew up with dreams.

    And I am convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my dreams are from God. That He, the Author and Perfecter of my faith, planted these dreams in my heart long before I knew what the word “dream” meant, and He–and only He–is the One in charge of fulfilling them.

    There are so many “itty bitty” dreams that my Creator has knowingly crafted and accomplished in my life, but here I want to reflect on four of the “big” ones. (Note: I must put the size of these dreams in quotes because really, is anything “big” or “small” for our God?! With a spoken word, every part of creation was crafted into being…I can’t think of a more simple “act” on God’s part and yet with that, he created the greatest of all complexities!)

    Ever since I can remember remembering, I’ve always dreamed of being a teacher. Not sure where that came from…neither of my parents were teachers by trade, although they are both quite gifted in teaching. I remember sitting in school (as early as first grade) thinking, “Wow, my teacher is doing a great job of teaching me…I should write down everything she is doing so I can teach this well when I grow up.” Every grade I attended became my new favorite and thus the grade that I wanted to teach when I grew up.

    Somewhere along the line, I became passionate about Mexico. And little Mexican children. Definitely not sure where that came from… But I knew I had to learn Spanish, and it wasn’t until my freshmen year of high school that I was finally able to take a course. And I immediately fell in love with the language that I apparently had a natural knack for. And meanwhile I dreamed of living in Mexico one day, doing mission work and teaching little kids how to speak English.

    I went to college to pursue my teaching degree and finished with a bachelors in Education, endorsements in Spanish and Elementary Education and a minor in Teaching English as a Second Language. Perfect set up to pursue my dream. Not long after graduating, I was offered a job teaching at a Language Immersion School in Tacoma…and I remember blinking several times as the job fell into my lap…Really? Really? Could this really be happening? So many parts of my dream are coming true…

    Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of marrying a prince who would adore me and cherish me and love me forever. I remember when Brian led me by my hand to the boat that was supposed to take us to a job site he was called to in the middle of a date we were on, and saw the gorgeous pink flowers and the perfectly wrapped presents inside and suddenly there I was again…in my dream. I was floating through a dream, watching Brian lead me across the dock and down the steps into the boat. And I heard myself say, “Wait, was is this?” And I saw my brain ticking…It’s not quite my birthday yet, so this can’t be a birthday surprise…and we haven’t picked out a ring yet, so he can’t be proposing…and wait a minute, we’re supposed to be heading to his job site…What is this? And I watched the tender and knowing smile spread across Brian’s face as he told me to sit down while he started the engine… And the dream went on, as a ring was slipped on my finger, as my brother and sister-in-law (who live thousands of miles away) suddenly appeared on the dock of the restaurant where we were to eat lunch, as the woman gave me a beautiful french manicure, as we ate dinner with both sets of our parents, as we drove to Brian’s home where our closest friends were waiting for us and as every day after that passed and my ring was in constant view, secured in a permanent place on my left hand. Really? Really? Could this really be happening? My dream, my prince has finally come? The reality of this dream becoming a reality was almost too much for me to handle…I couldn’t even filter and sort the gazillion thoughts flooding through my head during our engagement season, the night before our wedding day, and as I walked down that aisle towards my prince.

    Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of being a mom. I have just loved “little ones” ever since as I realized that there were “little ones” littler than me. I volunteered in our church’s nursery, read every book in The Babysitter’s Club series, and enrolled in courses to be a certified baby sitter while still in elementary school. I ordered books on fun craft projects with kids and I’d bring them with me when I landed babysitting jobs. About 5 seconds into my teaching career I was ready to apply for my foster care license because I just couldn’t handle the injustice that so many of my students lived under. I wanted to be their mom. I knew I could do a good job, by the grace of God, and I wanted to take them home with me… When Elliott was, after a long hard labor, placed in my arms that Sunday evening, I just wept and couldn’t believe this dream was being realized. Really? Really? Could this really be happening? I have a son…a most perfect son… And not a day has gone by since that I have not been overwhelmed by the goodness of the Lord to give us this perfect baby boy.

    Ever since about 2001, I have dreamed of being called and sent out by God. I have dreamed of being a missionary. I have dreamed of working in an orphanage or working with children and families who are in need. I would read about times when the Lord would call his people in Scripture, and I would beg Him to call me. “The Lord spoke to Joshua…saying, ‘…Now therefore, arise, go over this Jordan, you and all this people, to the land which I am giving to them–the children of Israel. Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given you…No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your lives; as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you nor forsake you. Be strong and of good courage, for to this people you shall divide as an inheritance the land which I swore to their fathers to give them…” (Joshua 1). I would read things like that and pray, “Oh God! Would you call me in the same way? Would you give me the land for your Name? Would you be with me, not leave me, not forsake me?” I would read about the destitute in Scripture and the ways that the Lord asks us to take care of them. “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8-9). And I would long to defend the rights of those who cannot speak up for themselves. I longed to be with the broken and the hurting. I longed to bring the love of Jesus to those who were suffering. The words in Isaiah 6 were the cry of my heart: “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” I told the Lord over and over that I promised I would go if He would call. And He has called me various places over the last 10 years. I have been called to my students, I have been called to my colleagues, I have been called to my friends, I have been called “to the least of these,” I have been called to Africa, I have been called to the Eastside of Tacoma, I have been called to my husband, and I have been called to my son.

    And then the Lord called us to Mexico. To do all of the above. All my dreams, colliding into one.

    As is the reality of dreaming–dreams feel so surreal. So real, yet so unreal at the same time. You pinch yourself over and over, blink until there are tears streaming down your face, but again and again you wake up and realize that the dream is, indeed, reality. And so here we are, selling most everything that we own, because we’ve heard him say, “Whom shall I send? Who will go?”

    And we, two children of God on our knees, have blinked and pinched ourselves to the point of realizing that yes, He is asking us to go. And though I think we’ve known in our hearts that this was our call since the moment we heard of the opportunity, we are finally able to audibly say, “Us, Lord! Yes, send us! We will go!”

    And so we strap our little one our back, and we go…We go with the faith that “He who’s promised is faithful,” with the faith that “a longing fulfilled will bring life,” with the faith that, “God reigns over the nations; God sits on His holy throne.”

    Here am I, Lord. Awake, alert, and ready to be sent out into this dream that You have fostered in my heart. Send me, God!

  • The Mexican Mobergs

    The Mexican Mobergs

    Those of you who know me, know the deep love I have in my heart for Mexicans. For Spaniards. For anyone with that perfectly brown skin, round brown eyes and dark brown hair. I really don’t know how on earth I ever gained such an affinity for Latinos. I always dreamed of marrying a Latino man. A very tall Latino man, that is. For as long as I can remember, I remember saying, “When I grow up, I want to teach English to little children in Mexico.” That was long before I had ever spoken a word of their language let alone set a foot on their land. When I began taking Spanish my freshmen year of high school, I quickly fell in love with the language, encouraging this little dream in my heart. The summer after my junior year I spent three weeks in Mexico studying the language and learning about the rich culture. I was captivated. My host family called me “Susy” because “Susana is far too formal,” my host mama explained. My host brother and sister quickly nicknamed me “Susips.”

     

    I’ll never forget the vivid awakening I got the morning I arrived in Mexico at a mere 17 years old. My flight had arrived around 2am so by the time I got to the house it was somewhere around 4 in the morning. I started class that day, so I went to bed knowing I had just a couple hours to sleep. The loud knock that awoke me practically caused me to jump out of my skin.

     

    I opened my eyes to see a wooden door that I did not recognize. I had no idea where I was. No idea. And some lady on the other side of the door, whom I didn’t know, was speaking some jumble of words that I did not understand. At all. I could tell by the inflection of her voice that she was asking me a question. After at least a minute of pounding and yelling at me, my first moment of recognition came.

     

    Spanish. She was speaking Spanish.

    Mexico. I was in Mexico.

     

    Yes…that’s right. I flew in the day before, landed in the middle of the night, and now it was time for me to start my first day of classes. I was in what was to be my home for the next 3 weeks. The lady speaking was probably my host mom. I thought I had remembered meeting her several hours earlier…yes, I was sure that was her…

     

    And all the while the pounding and talking continued and intensified. I snapped into reality. Focus! I told myself.

     

    And finally, I caught a word: “Desayuno.” Oh, so familiar…Don’t fail me now, oh espanol. Clearly three years of high school Spanish was not enough to prepare me for this. Desayuno, desayuno…what does it mean…? Wait! I got it! BREAKFAST! It means “breakfast”! She’s asking me what I want to eat for breakfast!!

    The excitement and pride only lasted a split second before it occurred to me that now that I knew what she was asking, I needed to ANSWER her. Okay, I can do this. I can do this. Breakfast words….hmmm, breakfast words…. My mind flipped through the pages of my 1985 Spanish textbook, trying to find the picture of the family sitting around the table eating one morning with all of the little breakfast words highlighted in bold. HUEVOS! I know how to say, “eggs”! I blurted it out as soon as it came to my mind, so relieved that my first morning would not be an epic fail.

     

    “Huevos!” I shouted back. Come on, Susanne, think. “Huevos, por favor!” Good, good… “Me gustan huevos!”

     

    Yes! I had done it! I had constructed my very first sentence ever in the Spanish real world.

     

    Anyway. I regress. My point is, small beginnings. Verryyyy small beginnings. But those 3 weeks in Mexico were certainly foundational to my Spanish-speaking skills, which would be an integral part of the next several years of my life.

     

    I went on to take AP Spanish as a Senior, studied in Spain my sophomore year of college, taught in a Spanish immersion classroom for my first teaching job…and all the while I dreamed of marrying that tall Latino man who would give me brown haired, brown eyed Latino babies one day. And my babies would grow up speaking both Spanish and English and we would all live happily ever after. In my waiting, I developed an affinity for naming my most endearing possessions with Spanish names. Most of you know Chiquita, my beloved Honda Accord (who has now grown up and moved out from under my roof…sniff, sniff.), Felipe, my  Mac Powerbook (who has been my almost constant companion for the last 6 years and who is, unfortunately, dying a slow painful death. I have to keep a close eye on Felipe because Brian keeps trying to put him to sleep for good) and of course, iPaco (nicknamed iPaquito) who is my sweet little ipod. I was a lady in waiting, but I wasn’t going to let them stop me from having little Latino loves.

     

    But then…thee Mr. Brian Moberg walked into my life. Who is, incidentally, about as far from Latino as they come. (But he is quite tall!) When I’ve attempted to teach him Spanish in the past he always—and I mean always—responds with “Oui”…no matter what I’m saying. Sigh. When I fell in love with him, so did my dreams of living la vida loca.
    But when we got pregnant, my passions were stirred once again and I began to dream. I was convinced—convinced—that the baby in my womb was part Latino. I just really believed my God could take Brian’s genes and my genes and form a little Latino baby in my womb. If God really loved me, maybe he would give me a brown baby. Hey, stranger things have happened. Maybe, when I ingested that parasite last summer in Mazatlan that made me so sick when I was 10 weeks pregnant with Elliott, it left a little trace of Mexicano in my womb…but only time would tell.

     

    So when Elliott came out, with blue eyes and skin as fair as his mother’s (who was so pale when she was born that the doctors thought there was something terribly wrong with her), I realized fairly quickly that I needed to move on to greater dreams for my son. But, it wasn’t long before I started plotting to have a Spanish nanny come live with us. Not because I wanted a nanny, but because I wanted Elliott to grow up with Spanish influence. And I just really, really, really like being around Latino people!

     

    Well, the Lord must have heard my prayers. Because several weeks ago, we were invited to go visit some new friends down at a YWAM (Youth With A Mission) base in–get this—Baja, Mexico. And, my gringo husband was actually excited about it! Visions instantly danced through my head of Brian, Elliott, and I wearing sombreros and eating tacos. I could hear Elliott toothlessly shouting out his first word: “guacamole.” I could see Brian wearing a cape and shouting “Ole!” as a giant bull ran past him. Yes…yes! My dream was being realized.

     

    Here is a picture of Elliott with his feet on Mexican soil (err, concrete…) for the very first (and hopefully not the last!) time. Look at how overjoyed he is! He was made to be Mexican!!!! I’m just sure it’s in his blood!!
    On our drive back across the border to the US, my heart was humming with overflowing joy. I was one happy Senora. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I drank in the reality of what had just happened. My 4 month old had had his very first trip to Mexico (outside the womb). As we drove by cars packed full with little brown children practically hanging out the windows, I have to admit that there was such a sense of feeling at home. I just love these people. I think they are hilarious and wonderful. No one does life like the Mexicans. You can’t sit in traffic without someone offering to wash your car (illegally) or give you a mango on a stick or cook you a burrito or sell you a giant life-sized plastic turtle. Because waiting in a line of cars for 75 minutes certainly makes one realize that one cannot go on one more second without that turtle in hand. Ahh, Mexico!

     

    We were only in Mexico for a quick 48 hour whirlwind, but I just know it was the best 48 hours of Elliott’s entire existence. I even think he looks more like a Mexican now, don’t you?

     


    With love, 
    The Mexican Mobergs
  • August Madness Part 2

    August Madness Part 2

    As if growing a baby, throwing up multiple times a day and being in two weddings weren’t enough challenges for the month of August, we decided to go Mazatlan.

    As many of you know, other than spiders & heights, I’m not scared of too many things. Especially international travel. Let me remind you that I ventured to Mexico by myself at age 17, barely speaking the language, and having no clue what I was doing. But I was I scared? Not really.

    But I was scared to death of flying to Mazatlan at 10 weeks pregnant. Because all I did every day, all day long, was throw up. Throw the idea of a very early morning flight, a plane, and the country of MEXICO into the mix, and I am shaking in my boots.

    The journey to Mazatlan was one I’ll never forget. If you’d like to read about my recount of the trip to Mexico, click here:

    http://www.themobergs.com/2010/08/11/the-journey-to-mazatlan/

    If you have a weak stomach yourself, I wouldn’t read it… If you need a good laugh, I would. 🙂 The very short, much less entertaining version is this: I threw up all the way to Mexico.

    Somehow I had managed to have every friend, family member, and stranger that I ran into before I trip praying for me, and…it worked. I was trying a new combo of vitamin B & anti-nausea meds while there, and during the 4 full days we were in Mexico, I only threw up once. That’s miraculous. So I figured I’d hit the jackpot in the perfect meds combo! That is, until I got home, did the EXACT same thing, and still threw up multiple times a day. It was then that I realized that God must have had His strong hand upon me and all of my fear during our Mexico stay.

    However, once I returned HOME, I got incredibly sick (which was kicked-off by my first restaurant throw-up), incredibly de-hydrated, and ended up in the hospital overnight. Another first for me. So Brian and I had a sleepover at St. Joe’s, which is where we are planning on delivering the baby. It was altogether a great experience, and we were both actually really thankful for it. I learned a lot about ways to keep hydrated, my body, and signs to look for when I’m heading down the wrong path. Apparently seeing stars is not a normal symptom of pregnancy…who knew?

    I’m sure you’re wondering, why on earth did we plan a trip to Mexico in my first trimester?? Well, Brian has been listening to a guy named Lance Wallnau, who is a Christian Business guy (that’s how I describe him…not sure what his official title is…). Brian has been incredibly motivated by his message and has just loved all of his teachings. His basic premise is, if, as believers, we are to be advancing the Kingdom of God, then we can’t ALL be solely working in the church. He points out “7 Mountains” of the world–Religion (the Church), Business, Government, Arts & Entertainment, Media, Education, and Family. Each of these “mountains” needs Christians within them–we can’t all flock to the church, thinking that’s the only way to do ministry. He basically says, “Take your passions, whether they be for the church or for politics, and use them for the glory of God!” Anyhow, it’s a really powerful message and he’s a fantastic speaker. He reminds me of Jerry Seinfeld. 🙂 So, Brian and I both felt this would be a strategic conference to attend, knowing that Brian likely wouldn’t be doing construction forever. He doesn’t want to work just to work…he wants to be advancing the Kingdom of God within the realm of the passions and the gifts that God has given him.

    So, all in all, the conference was really great. Brian got several personal touches with Lance and left the trip really encouraged and motivated. I was glad to be there with Brian, but honestly quite distracted as the morning sessions were the meat of each day, and mornings and I do not mix in this season. So although I didn’t throw up, I was so nauseaus that that was mostly all I could think about. I would sit there and imagine my exit route in case the vomit began to creep its way up my throat. But I really loved the evening sessions!! 🙂

    I’m so glad we went. And I hope I never have to go to Mexico when I’m 10 weeks pregnant ever again.

  • The Journey to Mazatlan

    Here is my recount of the journey to Mexico, taken out of my journal from August 11, 2010:

    As I kneeled over the poop-streaked toilet in the SeaTac Airport heaving and gagging and throwing up the final remains of stomach bile left inside of me, I thought, “You know, this could be a lot worse.” It was about 4:15am, and that was my third throw-up of the day so far. And I’d only been awake an hour and a half.

    But seriously–I was thankful for the seat liner that I had managed to tear out and get on the toilet seat before I clung to it with both hands and vomited. I thought, I’m thankful this isn’t a port-a-potty. That would be a lot worse.

    This has been a week-and-a-half of “firsts” for me. Last Monday I had my first “missed the trash can vomit.” Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself…4 weeks of throwing up every day and I hadn’t once made a mess. Well that opened the door to Friday–a day I checked off three firsts–my first all-over-the-car throw up, my first all-over-me throw up and my first side-of-the-road-while-strangers-are-staring-at-me throw up. They all came consecutively, and it was positively disgusting. Purple Cream of Wheat that seemed to never end…it just kept coming and coming and coming…

    Did I mention that was the morning of Chrisy & John’s wedding? Well, it was. I managed to get my self cleaned up, showered, and to the getting ready location, just in time for the zipper on my dress to break an hour before we were due for pictures. (And I know what you’re thinking, but the answer is, “NO–I was not too fat for my dress! There was PLENTY of room…it was a dress malfunction. In fact two other bridesmaids’ dresses did the same thing right before the wedding…bummer.) So, I had to be sewn into my dress. A big time first for me.
    Sunday was our first anniversary, and I threw up all day. And Brian so graciously cleaned up my vomit all day. What a first year anniversary to remember.

    So that brings us to today. Woke up at 2:45 am, drank my Essentials (liquid vitamins) and threw it up at 3. Got in the car and headed to the airport at 3:15. Threw up in the car–in the trash can this time–around 3:45. I was so proud of myself for making it in the bucket, that I just sat back in revelry, smiling at my small victory.

    When, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, the shivering butterfly (see “August Madness Part 1” for the story of the shivering butterfly) resurrected from some unknown place, attacked my face (I’d like to think of it as a gesture of love) and practically scared me out of my skin! I screamed, threw my hands in the air and…you see where this is going…kicked the bucket with my nicely contained vomit! Vomit. Spilled. Everywhere.

    Once my heart attack settled down, my mother’s heart kicked into full gear and suddenly I was ooing and ahhing over my long lost shivering butterfly. In true Susanne fashion, I began speaking words of comfort to my friend… “Hi!! You’re alive!! Oh, are you okay?! I thought you might have died!” I carefully placed him on my finger (without touching his wings, of course), and after a few parting words I set him free in the SeaTac Airport parking garage…praying all the way to our flight check-in that he would find his way to a good home.

    Which is when I found my way to the “this could really be a lot worse” toilet, and then threw up for the third time that day.

    While waiting for our flight, I spent most of the time in the bathroom stall heaving and gagging. Which is when I realized, it’s not so much fun throwing up in an automatic flush toilet. Yep, I’d picked “poop-stained” over automatic flush any day. Every time I’d heave, it would flush on me! Suck the seat cover right down and then I’d have to jump up (the thought of public toilet water splashing up onto my face–or God forbid, into my MOUTH–was enough to not only find the energy to jump up so quickly, but also to–you guessed it–heave and gag over and over again. A horrible, horrible Catch 22 of which I hope to never be part of again. But, you see…I was right…I knew it could be a lot worse.
    My first throw up on the flight to Phoenix was probably the worst. Since I had absolutely nothing left in my stomach, and since I was sitting upright, my first few dry heaves came out like deep, angry “ribbits” from a very sick, very large frog. Over and over–Ribbit! Ribbit! Ribbit!…–and no vomit. Until finally my ribbits were able to reach down to the depths of my stomach and pull out the remaining few drops of stomach bile.

    It was quite a miserable 2 1/2 hours of my life. With every minute that passed, all I could think was, “Ok, Susanne…you can do this. That’s 60 seconds that you never have to re-do again….you can do this…” The funny thing is, when you throw up in a public place like that (especially continuasly) people don’t know what to do. So they just stare at you with the “I’m-so-sorry face.” The flight attendant would just stand in the aisle, staring at me with this hopeless demeanor. I was in such a sick daze, and I remember being so far out of control that I couldn’t even stare back at them with my “Just-stop-staring-at-me face.” They A-L-L were digging through their seat pockets and passing down their barf bags to Brian. I think we collected about 20 barf bags from that flight, which was awesome! They are way better than plastic bags because they’re actually lined and can seal shut. (Things you wish you didn’t have to learn by experience…) Anyhow, I did get smart after my first plane vomiting experience and asked for some Ginger Ale. At least then when it was time to throw up, there would be something in my stomach to come up. Plus it made the flight attendant feel like she was doing something to help. So–my second 2 vomits were lighter on the ribbits and heavier on the Ginger Ale. My first (three) airplane throw-ups.

    By the time we got to Phoenix and I just had the chance to sit on solid ground, my stomach definitely began to settle. It also helped that it was in the 9 o’clock hour at this point. I ate an orange–and kept it down!!

    By the grace of God, there was an empty seat in our row on the flight to Mazatlan, so Brian sat in the aisle seat and I got to lay across the middle and rest my head on his lap. I fell asleep almost instantly and slept the entire flight. And if was sleeping the entire flight, that means I wasn’t…you got it! Throwing up!! It was a miracle!! By the time we landed in Mazatlan, my stomach felt great! I ate a nectarine, a jello pudding and some trail mix…life was looking good!!

    That is, until we boarded the shuttle that was to bring us to our hotel…

    First of all, it was hot. Really hot, and really muggy. Apparently there was some sort of “fan” on our shuttle but I never felt even the slightest breeze… I continued to snack away, happily chatting with the couple in front of us (just so thankful that I survived the trip from h-e-double hockey sticks). They said the shuttle ride would be about 45 minutes (even though the resort was only 7 miles from the airport). We understood why as soon as we got stopped in a traffic jam unlike any other. There are no real “lanes” in Mexico. If you think your car can fit inbetween two others, you just squeeze it in. It was completely stopped, with no hope in sight…

    We were creeping along in this parking lot when all of a sudden, our shuttle driver makes a hard 90 degree swerve to the right, and tears into an alley way. He picks up speed so that he is FLYING through this alley way, pot holes and all, making sharp, fast turns down a maze of alleys… Brian looked at me with big eyes. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked, quite concerned. “Yeah! Yeah…I’ll be fine…” I said unconvincingly. I was so determined to not throw up again that I was going to do anything I could to keep that food in my stomach. About 20 seconds later I realized I’d better get a barf bag in my hands in my hands fast, and about 30 seconds later, it all came back up. ALL OF IT. Warm chocolate jello pudding tainted with the smell of peanuts pouring out of my mouth. I thought the smell alone might kill me.

    But, we eventually made it. I have never been so thankful to be on solid, unmoving ground. We got to our air-conditioned room, I crawled into bed, and I slept for several hours…just so, so, so, so, so, so thankful that the trip to Mexico was over. Only one more trip back home left…