But let's re-hash anyways, shall we? Everyone pretty much knows what to do: when to sit, kneel, stand. And that's obvious, right? All are (mostly) doing the same motions. Yet Miriam feels the need to stand at the end of the pew during Communion and wave everyone past us like an air traffic controller. "Keep going," her little flowing hand says. "This is definitely not your
Vivian's a talker. She loves to talk all the live long day. More than once we've sushed her during Mass and she's replied, "I can't be quiet. I just have to talk." The real problem here is that she's not being sassy; she's being completely honest. She feels compelled to talk. Her mouth cannot stop. There's no filter (yet and there may never be) between her mind and mouth. It takes every morsel of self control in her sturdy little body to be silent for even five minutes. One hour of quietude is an eeeeeeeeeeterrrrrrrrrrrrrrnitttyyyyyyyyyyy to this three year old.
And Felicity...11 months old. Her baby noises are mostly happy. And we know she's the one who catches your eye most often. Or maybe she's catching your child's eye. She's trying to. She wants attention and fun in a place where our attention should be elsewhere. Oh yes, and she's just learned that noise where you yell as loud and long as you can while steadily, rhythmically tapping your mouth with your hand. She's perfecting her technique and you just never do know when she needs to test it out. "WAH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH."
So if you're near us during Mass. We're sorry for our antics and our noise. We're not sorry we have kids, but we are sorry if they're distracting you from prayer. Please give us a pass as we practice these lessons of self control on their part and patience on ours. We have to learn them over and over if we're going to get it right. And if you notice our children being extra great, or even doing one thing consistently well, during Mass, please tell them. It helps. A little.