Taking children to Mass sometimes feels like preparing for battle. The diaper bag is packed full of weaponry to soothe the savage beasts and you pray for no blood shed. We don't use the crying room, crying rooms are for the faint of heart. No sir, we are on the front lines, front and center, facing whatever battle is to come.
I wish I could say we always have a successful time and there are no tears or screaming. But alas, I have a two year old and a 10 month old. The best I can hope for is no one dying and me to not need a drink after the closing song.
Most Sundays we struggle through, juggling baby James, trying and usually failing to avoid screaming matches with Miriam. It ends with Brendan taking her in back wailing, usually during consecration, "I don't waaaaant to go in time ouuuutttttt!!!" It is days like that I wonder about our choice to take the little ones to Mass.
But then you have days like today, and they kind of make me smile. It was still hard, Miriam doesn't sit still and James is crazy. But there were a few times she got it. She really seemed to understand the point of Mass. "Jesus die on the cross mommy?" "Jesus come down in bread and wine?" "Yes sweetheart." And then she becomes a two year old again. "You drink wine mommy?" "Me drink wine when me get older." "Just one more song mommy." And then she claps at the end of Mass, "Yay! Now me can talk and get a lollipop."
Yes, I have been known to bribe my children for good behavior. But honestly, overall, she is getting better and better and I wouldn't trade the front row for the crying room in all the world. Happy Sunday!
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