It’s only an hour. I can do it! Heaven help me! Your turn, Daddy. Did I miss the Gospel? Stop taking off your shoes! Don’t lick the floor! Humility. Humility. Humility.Melody wrote a must read about bringing kids to Mass. Click her words above to read more.
Let The Little Children Come to Me, Run to Jesus, and Come as You Are- the theme songs for this post. Adding a third child to our mix has definitely brought it's share of humiliating moments- that and the fact that our little angel turned two and lost her halo! She is giving us a run for our money inside and outside of church. Last week she insisted on having one of her fingers up her nose. I was holding her during Mass (because she was being a little rascal and wouldn't behave) and in went her finger up her nostril for some deep nasal exploration. I took it out with my only free hand (note: I am holding her up with my other arm). She puts her finger in from her left hand. I take it out. She puts her finger in from her right. Left, right, left, right. It went on for five minutes at a time, then she would quite, wait a few minutes, then do it again. What a scene! It even had people laughing in the pews on the other side of us. At least everyone had a good sense of humor about it. That's one thing I like about my church. People seem to be really understanding about little kids making noises and causing their parents lots of embarrassment.
As Melody pointed out in her blog post, nursing babies in church adds a whole new level of humility. I'm OK with sitting in the pew nursing if there aren't people behind me standing up, or kneeling. If you ever nursed, you'd understand why. A couple of weeks ago, I had to nurse during the Consecration. I thought I could finish before communion time, but Jude was not letting up. As my pew started to leave for communion, I decided to stay and finish nursing--thinking all the while that Jude was almost finished and I would be able to hop in the line behind me. Well, I completely overestimated how long it takes for about five rows of people to go through the communion line, because before I knew it, the priests were distributing communion to the last row of people. I started to panic. I quickly detached baby, buttoned up my shirt and made a bee line for the priest. But, just like every other time I am in a hurry, there happens to be someone in front of me, strolling along at the pace of an injured turtle!! I tried to get around him, but he kept moving and other people were coming at me from the other direction. I quickly glanced at the communion line. There was only a few people left and I was still in the back of church trying to get past this man who wouldn't move! Finally, I put my hand on his shoulder and gave him the sweetest look I could muster and said, excuse me, sorry! as I flew past him. I literally ran up the aisle to communion- my heels clunking loudly for everyone to hear and see the crazy lady running up to communion. Eric saw the whole thing and said it was just awesome- especially how I was literally running to Jesus. He also that the slow poke man gave me the most bewildered look when I put my hand on his shoulder. Oh well, sometimes, you just gotta run to Jesus, no matter who is in your way.
The story that tops the cake on embarrassing Mass stories is not my own, but my husband's. I really shouldn't be sharing it, but it's just so darn funny. About a month ago, we were so late to Mass, all the seats were taken and we had to stand in the foyer. About half way through Mass, Eric bends down to help one of the kids with something and I hear this loud rrrriiiiiiiiiiip. At first I didn't put two and two together and I asked Eric what that sound was. He was holding back a grin and said "it's nothing". A few minutes later, I realized what it was and we both started cracking up. The hole was a full seven inches! It was probably a good thing the rip was in the front only- maybe. In order to go up to communion with as few people noticing as possible, he grabbed our two year old and held her directly in front of him. This was the first time she has ever directed attention away from something more embarrassing than her bad behavior! This time we had to leave right after communion, or else there would have been a lot of people noticing a big hole where it shouldn't be. All the way back to the car we were laughing so hard. "Come as you are" got a whole new meaning that Sunday!
7 comments:
thanks for the laughs.
i shared your stories with my love and little ones - we're still laughing. ;)
oh my, that is hilarious!
It is funny how absolutely hilarious these stories are when you have live through them. (so to speak). :) Humbling while they are happening, but they will be the stories that your kids tell their kids.
Our "best worst moment" happened at weekday mass when my 4 year old got away from me (while I was holding my infant and 2 year old), and got down on the aisle in front of where we were sitting and starting barking like a dog! I thought I managed to quiet things down quickly, but the priest, in a charitable act, decided as mass was ending to point out how wonderful it was to have moms with young children at mass and that everyone should be encouraged to see us there. I wanted to crawl under the pew!!
I will have to hop over and read Melody's blog post.
Sarah, you have me in stitches! The rip is just too funny and I can completely relate to your nursing dilemma. I'm always trying to time it right and as you well know, babies do not like to be put on a timer! :)
That last story I'm still laughing about. I think every week has stories. Seriously. All from the 4 year old.
I look down the row each week though, and look at how my 11, 8 and 6 year olds are actually good now. How amazing that is. I can't say those years went fast, because when you are in it. it's not going fast.
Most weeks seem like the longest hour in the whole week. I love daily Mass, because it's only a 1/2 hour and my 4 year old can make it like 25 minutes pretty good. But it's a long 25 minutes sometimes....we try to go on Wednesdays.
Last weekend, she kept saying louder and louder. "Jesus is not on the cross. Why isn't Jesus on that cross?" It's a wooden cross with a purple cloth draped over it and a crown of thorns on it for Lent. I explained it several times to her, but she kept saying it over and over. She just didn't get it.
I have to share-- a couple months ago, the woman behind me, with 2 small kiddos and a teenager, tapped me on the shoulder wanting to know if I had anything to help her with....she had her hands cupped full of her 3 year old's puke. All I had was a diaper and some handiwipes. She took them all. Poor woman.
If you have an elastic waisted skirt...you always have to watch that no little one steps on it, because you won't feel it come down...just sayin'
Great post Sarah!
Sarah,
I know every mom has a story to share and we all cry and laugh uncontrollable with you, not at you.
Jamie, the elastic skirt story has brought back memories from the time my 3 year old tugged at my "half slip" taking it down to my heels and on the floor in church. I noticed something restricting my step as I entered the center isle to distribute communion. after a slight heart attack and blushing I gracefully picked up the white half slip and tucked it in my coat sleeve on the pew. as I entered the sactuary, I realized what really just took place and how many people could have or did see what happened.
with great humility comes great holiness! (hopefully).
mom
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