Cry Rooms, Baybeeees, & Mosaics
November 14, 2011
If you’re totally over the baby thing, skip to “Mosaics“. You do not want to miss a very motivational video.
My least favorite part of church these days: the dreaded “cry room”.
First off, you do a walk of shame to get there. The walk where you try to muffle (without suffocating) the cries of your beloved child while walking past 89 pews of onlookers.
Once you actually get to the cry room, your eyes have to adjust to the near pitch-black lighting. And by pitch-black I mean a light covered with blue plastic, creating a creepy black-light effect.
Choosing the rocker to sit in is comparable to the urinal-choosing debacle men face. You don’t choose the one in the middle between two other nursing moms. That leaves very little elbow/baby leg room for each mom/baby combo.
Rocker chosen, eyes adjusted. Next step: identify the other moms. This can be tricky; again, like the urinal situation, sometimes it’s best to keep your eyes forward. Don’t want to accidentally catch a peek of lady parts.
You have two types of nursing moms in the cry room:
1. The first-timer. Characteristics include a 20’x20′ covering blanket for modesty, 3 clean organic burp clothes – one per spit up, a memory-foam diaper changing pad for baby’s comfort, and overall anxiety about fussiness. (Anxious thoughts include: “Are you done eating? Do you need to burp? Maybe you should eat more. Do you have gas?”)
2. The multi-mom. This mom uses a haphazardly placed 4″ wide burp cloth to cover while feeding (if even that), has one burp cloth with a few days’ worth of spit-up on it, lays baby directly on the germy carpet and/or plastic public-bathroom-style changing table, and gets in and out in just a few minutes.
Since the speakers don’t work in our church cry room, you either sit in silence with the occasional gulping and/or choking noises, or strike up conversations with your nursing peers.
Don’t ever expect to recognize these people in every day life, though. It’s way too dark in the cry room to get an accurate facial reading.
Moms: does this sound like your church cry room, or is ours especially exciting? (And by exciting I mean creepy and dungeon-like.)
Adults do funny things around babies.
When a baby is in sight, even the manliest of all men immediately start talking in a 2-octave-above-normal voice.
The best are the strangers in public.
Most little kids see Beckett and start tugging on their parent’s sleeve saying, “Mom. A baby. Mom…Mom. Look. A baby, Mom.” In that circumstance, I normally stop and let the kid look at Beckett.
The situation I’m still figuring out is the walk-by admirer. This person is passing you, muttering something like, “Awwwhhwhh lookeeeeee. A bayyyybeeeee.” in a very sing-songy voice. I normally just give a quick smile and move along unless they ask follow-up questions.
I don’t even think people realize they do it. It’s something inherent in human nature to turn to mush and disregard all mature, adult vocabulary when a wee one is nearby.
I started reading a book called “You Lost Me” by David Kinnaman, same guy who wrote “Unchristian”.
It’s a look at why the 18-29 year old generation, dubbed “Mosaics” in the book, are leaving church during the young adult years. I’m a sucker for books about generational differences (maybe the marketer in me?) and this is a particularly interesting look at how our churches should change/will change by my generation.
It’s a great book (so far) and I’d love to discuss in greater detail when I finish.
In the meantime, I saw a video tweeted this week that is hilarious alongside this idea of cultural relevancy in our churches. Maybe you can see why:
Did you watch the whole thing? If not, you need to fast forward to 1:58 to see some sweet dance moves.
Nope, this isn’t embarrassing at all.