The Momma Problem

This one will tear at your heartstrings. The babies at the orphanage call me momma. Passing the tissues? It’s absolutely heartbreaking. They know I’m not their mother – I mean I do look a bit different; I mean I think they know (sidebar: sometimes they try to touch my eye because they’re blue – which hurts, and sometimes I let them touch my teeth, gross). But they’ll say momma this or that. I’ve become utterly attached to Mutessi, a little 2-3 year old girl. Little Mutessi is the sweetest little girl, and I honestly want to give up my DC life, move back to Buffalo and raise her (with my parents, obviously, hence the move – but I think know that all of you would secretly love that, because who doesn’t love a baby in this family?). Anyway, whoa just made up a little life for myself there. Job? What? Well this is a true test if my parents are reading this. Ready grandma and grandpa?

So charter that plane you all have on reserve to come get me, because I would give anything to take her home. Here’s the problem: the nuns don’t allow us to fundraise. So, for now, we’re been paying for everything we bring, which is fine since it’s not that expensive, and it’ll be even more fine when I have an actual salary and can send money to Rwanda. But, what’s going to happen in the future when all the volunteers that go with me now leave? We’ve been bringing bananas two days per week and last Sunday the sisters made us take a ginormous step back by saying we can’t bring them anymore. Then yesterday they let us (because we brought them anyway), but we just never know what mood the sisters will be in.

So that’s the problem readers. The sisters change their minds everyday, and we’re all going to leave soon. Suggestions PLEASE?