Sunday's Wrestling Match...

Every Sunday we make an attempt to go to Mass. We are Catholic, we have to. My older kids have "Faith Formation" a.k.a. CCD. We make an entire morning out of it. We either try to go to the 9:00 Mass followed by 10:15 F.F., or hit Mass on the flip side of F.F. at 11:30. While the kids are at their lessons, I make a quick sprint through the commissary and I'm back in time to pick them up.

Every Sunday my younger children believe church is the place to test my faith. It doesn't matter what I do to help the situation. I've brought snacks, coloring books, small and quiet toys, blankies in hopes one of them would fall asleep. Inevitably, someone winds up crying with a boo-boo.

To give the other parishioners some peace, I've tried sitting in the "crying room". For those unfamiliar, this is nothing but a closed off room in the back of the church where Mass is heard and seen, but young children can go with a parent and misbehave. In other words...a goat rodeo. Children are running all over, snacks are flying, sometimes boobs are exposed as this is the place to breastfeed. I too have sat in the back row with a baby and blanket draped over me in the hopes no one noticed what I was doing...oh, well...inevitably, someone winds up crying with a boo-boo.

So, this time I thought, well maybe if I sit near the front of the church, they will pay more attention, possibly be amused by the choir. No such luck. Charlotte removed her shoes, threw a bag of cereal on the floor, threw a dolly, insisted on standing on the kneeler and inevitably, clunked her head on the seat in front of us and cried with a boo-boo. I'm sure the priest was seconds away from performing his first live exorcism.

We stuck it out, almost until the final blessing. We had to scurry out seconds early because I made the mistake of putting Charlotte's coat on her during the announcements, which meant she needed to leave immediately. She was done, I was done and everyone knew it.