The Meowing Toddler in Church

Some days, our little one is quiet in church. Others, I feel the grey hairs springing up as I struggle to keep her noise down to a minimum. This morning, still in a partying mood from her little cousin’s birthday party last night, she sang “Frosty the Snowman” on our way to church. We knew we were in for trouble.

I get so distracted trying to keep her shennagans to a minimum, that sometimes I wonder why I even bother. But, when we were asked to go to a birthday breakfast this morning, we knew we couldn’t skip Mass for it. Attending Mass together is the one thing we are committed to doing together as a family. It is my husband’s only day off from work, and he likes to sleep late. We seldom arrive quite on time for the 11:00 Mass. But the ushers know we will be there, and often have six seats ready for us when we walk in the door.

Attending Mass together sets the tone for the entire week. Without it, something is off. Although I will rarely hear all, or even most, of the homily, I pick up bits and pieces; morsels that I really needed and thus was meant to hear. Joining hands to say The Lord’s Prayer and sharing the sign of peace, not to mention receiving the Holy Eucharist, are highlights of the experience.

My daughter was in rare form today. She started in as soon as we got into our pew, refusing to allow me to take off her coat. “No Mommy! I do it!” The best thing to do at this point is to leave her be. People staring at us probably are wondering why I don’t do something. My not touching her is preventing a bigger scene, please believe me. I really wish I could be invisible as her little voice crescendos during the most quiet parts of the Mass.

She was a really chatter-box today, her voice sweet and little as she talked to herself. I have to continually poke and stare at the older children to not provoke her into more obvious silliness. I only thought her meowing was not too awful when it became the low growl of a tiger – all in good fun, of course.

By the time the homily was over, she had decided she wanted to rest in my arms and be quiet. I tried to forget all she’d put me through in the past half hour, and buried my nose in her soft hair.

“People were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them, and when the disciples saw this, they rebuked them.
Jesus, however, called the children to himself and said, "Let the children come to me and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.
Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it." "
Luke 18:15-17 (NAB)

Painting above by Robert Campin 1375-1444 Netherlandish Painter
Virgin and Child in an Interior Oil on oak, National Gallery,London

A Little Lover of the Rosary

My littlest one, now 2 ½, is already a great lover of the rosary. We went to the church to pray the rosary this Thursday during the March for Life. My friend’s three-year-old was sitting next to her. I gave my daughter a rosary, which she put around her neck. She then proceeded to collect everyone else’s rosaries.

First she went to her little friend, putting her hand out and saying “Peeeeeez” (please) until she relinquished her rosary. This she put around her neck with the other.

After she got mine, I thought she would be happy. But she then saw my friend’s rosary. I warned my friend not to give in to her, but she soon surrendered hers as well.

When it was my turn to lead the prayer, my friend gave me another rosary from her stash to help me keep count. This also was taken. (From time to time I straightened out all her rosaries to make sure they were in a safe position.)

By the time we had finished, my daughter had about ten rosaries around her neck, and we were all counting decades on our fingers!

The Virgin and Child with a Rosary is one of Bartolome Murillo's most beloved works. It was painted in 1650 and is part of the permanent collection at the Museo del Prado, Madrid, Spain.

Warning about this Sunday's Second Collection

Why should you return the second collection envelope EMPTY this Sunday? Read this revealing essay from the theological magazine "First Things".
Obama and the Bishops
By Richard John Neuhaus
http://www.firstthings.com/onthesquare/?p=1216
I am printing out a portion of this article and enclosing it in my envelope instead of cash.

An Amusing Day of Rest

We got an early start to the day but still had to rush out the door for church.

“Get your coats on and get in the car!” I commanded.

I put the baby’s and my coats on. I heard the doorbell ring. I assumed it was my seven-year-old son playing around.

“Mommy! There are two ugly people at the door!” my nine-year-old yelled.

I assumed she was joking again, and opened the door, toddler in arms, ready to walk to the car.

Two female Jehovah’s Witnesses were at the door.

“Oh!” one said in surprise, “I’m sorry, were you on your way out?”

“Yes, we are on our way out to church.”

“Can we leave you some literature?”

“No, thank you,” I said with a sweet smile.

“Cute,” the other said about the baby, and they both walked down my driveway.

Perhaps rudely, I let the car alarm chirp as they passed my car on one side and I got the baby into the other.

Later, my nine-year-old told me that she had dutifully gone out to the car, then saw the strangers coming and ran into the house.

Meanwhile, my ten-year-old opened the door to go out to the car and saw them standing there. One said “hello”, and she promptly slammed the door in their faces!

They had all followed the proper protocol for strangers, and I was proud of them, I said.

My toddler climbed all over me in church. The older lady next to us was very understanding. When the baby wanted the kneeler down, she let it down so she could stand on it. When she wanted to walk the length of it, she stepped back and told me to let her pass her by.

Those around us were quite prompt about picking up the blue and green crayons (“crons”) that flew past them.

The kind old lady behind us must have looked like the type that would have bagels. “Gagels?” the baby asked her, “Apples? Cookies?” loud enough for the entire quadrant of church to hear.

We decided to stop at the bagel store on the way home, but they were fresh out. They had another batch coming in twenty minutes. I put the baby to bed and went back. It sure was worth it for the fresh, warm bagels, to be perfectly topped with Neufchatel cheese. They were so good that I had two, and laid down on the couch for a nice nap.

I woke up refreshed, finally ready to do some work. I made dinner, did a load of laundry, and went food shopping (again- I just went two days ago). When I got back, the girls were still talking about the ladies at the door. They found the whole story so hysterical, and could not wait to tell their friends on the bus and in school tomorrow!

“So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work he had done in creation.”
Genesis 2:3

Above: The Creation, Matthaeus Merian the Elder, 1625-30

Things People Said

My involvement with the 40 Days for Life program has been a real eye opener into people’s attitudes, even of those who are involved in the pro-life movement.

Today I was outside after church collecting signatures to stop Governor Eliot Spitzer’s “Reproductive Health and Privacy Protection Act”, S.5829. (Go to www.nyscatholic.org to take action.)

I was working with an elderly couple.

“How many children do you have?” asked the woman.

“Four.”

“It’s a lot of work. I have five.”

“Oh, God bless you!”

“Not really. Put your money in the bank. It’s a better investment.”

I am pretty sure my jaw dropped, and she attempted to soften her comment with “I’m just kidding, of course.”

But her further comments led me to believe she really did hold a bitter view about child-rearing.

“There is one thing you can count on.”

I waited for her to continue, then prodded, “What’s that?”

“They will disappoint you one day.”

I looked at her and felt sad for her. But I also was rather shocked at how she would convey this viewpoint to me, I who am just in the messy midst of the raising of young children. She knew this, too, because she had met them before the Mass.

I asked her if she had any grandchildren. She had eight.

I told her, trying to lighten the mood, “I look forward to having big backyard baseball games with our grandchildren.”

“Don’t count on it,” she said, “They all move away.”

I recounted this conversation to a friend later. She said something must have happened recently with one of her children, and to pray for her.

It gets worse – but I will save that story for my next installment, “More Things People Said”.

Tonight I will dream of playing baseball with my grandchildren in my large yard, which by then will be enfenced with roses of all shades and varieties…

[Picture above: Leigh-on-Mendip St Giles, Somerset]

Not According to Plan

Yesterday was one of those days composed of things not going quite right, yet ending up well.

Sunday morning I had a terrible time with the baby in church. No sooner had we seated ourselves than she ripped off my glasses, scratching the side of my nose in the process. She thought that was great fun, and I had to get my son to hold my glasses. She then proceeded to attempt to remove my earrings.

After I had carefully pried her strong little fingers off my earring, she decided she wanted to have every one of the pew’s hymnals in her possession. This entire scene had been intolerable for me from the beginning. But I knew it was going to be considered an annoyance to others as her “eh? EH?” insistence on the hymnals grew in crescendo.

I motioned to my husband my intention and removed the baby and myself from the church. I have not had to do this since she was a newborn. (Although I have come close many times.) We went outside and sat under a huge old oak tree. She happily and peacefully played with a pile of acorns for the remainder of the mass.

After church, a friend came over to help me secure the baby seat properly to my bicycle. Just as I was putting on her helmet, another friend called. We had been playing “telephone tag” for several days now. My husband handed me the telephone and I explained I was about to go for a bicycle ride.

She loved the bicycle ride but was irritated by the helmet. My six-year-old son ran himself into a curb, close enough to home that my husband was able to run out of the house and bring him home. My eight-year-old daughter was having a problem with her bicycle. Halfway around the mile-long circle that our street runs in, I had two crying girls in tow. My ten-year-old was very helpful in calming them down so we did not disturb the peace in our neighborhood.

I called back my friend. “That was quick,” she said.

“Well, it didn’t go as well as I had planned…”

Have you ever heard of “beef chuck deckle”? I never have, yet I bought a cut of it and made it for dinner. I could not find the word “deckle” in my cookbook, and Webster’s definition had nothing to do with meat. I decided “chuck” meant I should sear and then slow-roast, and it came out delicious.

“Just as you know not how the breath of life fashions the human frame in the mother’s womb,
So you know not the work of God which he is accomplishing in the universe.
In the morning sow your seed,
And at evening let not your hand be idle:
For you know not which of the two will be successful,
Or whether both alike will turn out well.”
Ecclesiastes 11:5-6

Photo Taliah Lempert

The Rock

“And so I say to you, you are Peter,
and upon this rock I will build my church,
and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.
I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.
Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven;
and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Matthew 16:18-19

John Constable landscape masterpiece, English Romantic Painter, 1776-1837
Salisbury Cathedral from the Bishop's Grounds.
1823. Oil on canvas.
Victoria and Albert Museum, London