Every movement has a team story. Ours has three acts: the builders who gave everything, the long quiet of the chrysalis, and the rebirth happening right now — in you.
Before there was a Circle, there was a kitchen table, a calling, and a handful of people reckless enough to believe a mother of eight could reorganize how the world cares for its children. Then there were more: engineers who stayed past midnight, designers who sketched trust itself, care advocates who answered every mama's message like it was the only one, interns who showed up for the mission long before there was prestige in it, advisors and board members who lent their names and their nights.
They built the first app from scratch. They put Momni on the front page of the Deseret News and on televisions across the country. They grew a beta into 26,000 mamas in all fifty states and presented growth charts that made a board room laugh out loud with joy. They worked for paychecks, yes — but nobody works those hours for a paycheck. They worked for the vision.
If you wore the purple shirt, debugged at midnight, drafted the deck, answered the support line, drove to the studio, set up chairs at the retreat, or simply believed early and out loud: this movement is your handwriting. The Circle of 2.0 stands on the foundation you poured, and we keep your light on the same way we keep every mama's pin on the map. Elephants never forget — and neither do we.
Then the world stopped. COVID closed the doors of in-home care almost overnight, and a company built on open doors had to go quiet. Desks emptied. The team scattered into new jobs, new cities, new chapters — carrying the mission with them like a seed in a coat pocket.
From the outside it looked like an ending. It wasn't. A chrysalis looks perfectly still from the outside too — while inside, everything essential is being rearranged into something that can fly.
Movements don't die. They metamorphose.In 2026 the chrysalis opened — and what came out wasn't a company. It was a movement of mothers. No office. No payroll. No org chart. Instead: a swarm of mamas and volunteers stepping up to the front lines of the vision — hosting each other's littles, leading Circles, lighting pins on the map, answering each other at the Campfire, carrying the mission the way only mothers carry things: together, and without being asked twice.
This is the part of the story where the team page stops being a list of employees — because the team is no longer hired. The team is gathered. Today's Team Momni roster:
Open their homes and set their own rates — the beating heart of caresharing.
Gather their neighborhoods — playgroups, mama nights, welcome coffees.
Share ideas, vote on what we build, keep the conversation warm.
Post, share, tag and invite — every share lights another pin.
Lend their gifts — translation, design, outreach, encouragement.
26,000 strong, coming home to relight their pins.
no salaries. no titles. just mothers — which is to say: the most reliable workforce on earth.
We are the mothers, the mamas, the mommies — WE are Team Momni. There's a seat in the Circle with your name on it, and the only job requirement is a heart that shows up.
