We stopped taking The Poo to Mass when she was about eight months old.
Sitting in our regular pew – not too close to the altar but not in the back – our priest was delivering the homily when The Poo decided to strike up a conversation with him.
Squeaking and chattering, her not-so-tiny voice ricocheted off the high ceiling and bounced off the tile floors.
Father Brickler, flustered, lost his place in his sermon and looked in our direction as he struggled to resume the day’s lesson.
That was The Poo’s last day at church.
Mr. C continued to attend the 8:30 session every Sunday morning, while The Poo and I lounged in our PJs. Time passed, as time does, and it started to occur to me that we needed to start taking the kid to church if she was ever going to learn how to behave there.
So, when we looked for a parish here in town, one of our main priorities was a crying room. You know, those glassed-off areas where they cage the small animals and their parents, while the rest of the civilized folk worship in peace.
We found just such a parish, but still The Poo has difficulty behaving. Partially, her misbehavior stems from the fact that Saturday evening vigil takes place at 5 p.m., traditionally the witching hour for our girl.
Exhausted from 366 days without a nap (seriously, she napped for the last time mid-February 2007), she gets hyper-crazy and cannot keep still or silent.
Of course, we are in the crying room, but that isn’t an excuse to run wild. We try to keep a lid on the nuttiness, and sometimes we succeed. Occasionally, we fail.
Last night we took her for the first time in awhile, since we’ve been ill ’round these parts. She was antsy and walked the edge of naughty for the entire 45 minutes. Only the threat of skipping our ritualistic dinner out at her favorite restaurant kept her contained.
As we were walking back down the long, long aisle to get our things after Communion – we cut out after the Eucharist – she loudly asked if it was time to go.
“It is time to leave now,” I confirmed in a hushed voice.
The child pumped her fist in the air, planted her feet on the ground and yelled, “Yesssssss!”
Every single parishioner within earshot cracked up.
I have a feeling the old guy upstairs let out a little chuckle of his own.
{ 28 comments… read them below or add one }
Too funny. I think church is definitely one of those things that can be too much for little ones and their little attention spans.
I don’t wish mass on anyone. I get antsy and I am an adult! I always dread Catholic weddings and funerals. Is it really necessary to make it that long and do I really need to sit, stand, sit stand? I had to go to a funeral at your church when I was hugely pregnant and I finally gave up and just stayed seated.I haven’t been to mass since my parents divorced and I was set free.
I’m just another one of those ex-Catholic adults!
That’s hysterical!! I know many big people who feel the same way.
That’s so funny. My daughter’s usually pretty good at Mass but she loves to chatter away. Luckily over at the no-crying-room parish she’s not the only one.
I love the crying room across town, but it’s nice to be able to sit with the rest of the congregation with a kid that’s making a racket and have fellow parishioners just smile as to say “I’ve been there.”
Hang in there!
Since we go to 8:30 a.m. Mass, the kids are still a little sleepy so they’re pretty low-key. And they know that if they act up there will be no donuts after church.
Any more I don’t allow my son to bring something to occupy his time (this time next year he’ll be preparing for First Communion). My daughter is allowed 1 small notebook and 1 pencil or a book to look at.
Poo will get better. Don’t worry.
My mother used to drag me to 5:15 mass every week. i absolutely hated it. She’d bring a pad of paper and pencils, but I know I was a pain in the ass. I remember spending half the mass one day staring at people’s shoes and trying to figure out what they looked like based on that.
I’m an atheist, so mass isn’t an issue-but doing ANYTHING at 5pm is a disaster here.
I feel like doing that too sometimes.
Come 10 a.m every Sunday morning, I’m sitting in a church pew (with or without the hubs) and trying to get the kids to sit still with my evil eye.
They are actually pretty good now.
But I can’t escape the crying room because Boo’s sister decided to attend our church with her four kids under six. She only has so many arms. Which leaves me trying to hush small kids and corral my own when she has to take one to the crying room.
I’m not sure I’m even getting much out of the service other than slobbery kisses and grey hair, but hey, what’s an aunty for?
Hey, my girls ask the same thing every week and always end with a fist-pumping yesssss!
Out of the mouths of babes!
Wonderful!
We don’t have a crying room in our parish, so we sit up in the choir loft for ease of chasing the little dude without disrupting the ENTIRE church.
Our parish just reinstated the crying room. Yessss!
that is hilarious! The pastor’s wife at the last church I attended would take her keys out of her purse and start shaking them when her husband got too long winded on the pulpit.
1. I hate church, especially with children. I am in a distinctly un-Christian mood when we arrive.
2. I gave you an award on my blog.
3. What is that smell? It smells like hot dogs and floral arrangements. I hate the phantom smells of motherhood.
Hilarious!!
How did YOU keeping from laughing? Or did you?
I would have been cackling as I walked her out!
I love your kid.
And you tell it so well.
50 bucks says she does a repeat at her own wedding, except with a “is it time to kiss yet?”
That’s funny! Only little kids can get away with that.
Let me just say that if you have found a congregation that will laugh with you about parenting, then you have found a true spiritual home. I’ve been to lots of churches and have decided that one of my top priorities is being with people who are in touch with reality and have a sense of humor.
Heh. I’m sorry, but I think she said what a lot of people are thinking.
That is awesome! My kids have never attended church due to the fact that their parents are also heathens, but taking them out to any public place where silence is appreciated gets very interesting at times.
Years ago, the bishop was visiting my church and was in the middle of his sermon when a little boy, probably around the Poo’s age, escaped his mother and ran up to the pulpit. The bishop just leaned down, picked the boy up, and held him until the sermon was finished. The boy’s very embarrassed mother rushed up to retrieve him as soon as the sermon was over. Needless to say we all had a hard time not giggling through the last part of the sermon, and everone cracked up as the mother made her way back to her seat with her runaway.
I am a heathen so I don’t do church. But once I got brave and took my kids to church thinking it was time to introduce them to religion and let them decide for themselves. Never ever ever again will I do that!
To take all to the crying room is too much for me! Will try again when they are teens!
I dunno…when a bright, young child feels resistance to something, I kinda lean towards their way of thinking. Church should be more fun!
I love her.
At least you take her. We gave up on Mass right around the time he stopped sleeping through it. Just doesn’t seem like there’s any point when you’re wrestling with a toddler the whole time
We didn’t go to Mass very often when the children were babies or toddlers, it was just too stressful, we don’t have a crying room. As the kids are school age, our attendance is getting a little better, though there is still a lot of whining and complaining when we say we’re going to Mass. Yes, we are very mean, mean parents.
Zack was nearly 5 before church ‘worked’ for him. He’d cry; he hated it.
Then we finally found a sunday school teacher – a beautiful woman in her 20s – and he was cured, hallelujah.
I think you are right – God is chuckling…
God totally has to have a sense of humor. At least, I hope so. My trade off bringing our 4-year old to Church. No way in hell (tee hee) would Lillian ever behave, so church-going will have to wait for her.