This lent, I decided that I was going to make it to Stations of the Cross on Fridays (V's arrival permitting!) and I really wanted to make this a family event.
The first Friday came, S and I loaded the kids into the car and hauled them off for 7:00 Stations- which was sure to be a penitential experience since they usually go to bed around 7:30. C was perfect. And then the Stations started and she started screaming at the top of her lungs. So S spent the rest of the Stations pacing with her outside. (I need an old priest and a young priest much?)
J and I remained in the sanctuary. He was very enthusiastic about saying the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be after each station, although he was confused about the lack of hand holding during the Our Father. His enthusiasm was apparently contagious as he began soliciting high-fives from the neighbors after he had successfully finished the 3 prayers. When this parish does Stations, they use projectors to display images for each of the stations. Pros and cons, on one hand, you don't have to move around from station to station. On the other hand, you don't move around from station to station. When the first slide popped up, J started pointing in front of us and exclaimed, "I see Mary! I see Mary!" Truth be told, the image projected was of a slightly feminine looking Jesus. I tried to whisper to J that it was Jesus on the screen. "No, I see Mary." It was at that point that I noticed the angle of his arm, still extended and pointing, was not quite high enough to be pointing to the slides. So I asked, "What color is Mary wearing?" "Blue. I see two Marys." Sitting about 3 rows ahead of us were the two nuns, dressed in blue habits. That was a facepalm moment...
Well, the second Friday came. C was fighting off another stomach bug so S opted to stay at home with her while I took J to Stations. This time, the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be were not the least bit novel. He had no compelling interest to be there. However, we definitely got more fodder for the ever-growing file of "Things I never thought I'd have to say as a parent." "Son, don't lick the pew." "I see you're pretending to be snake. Can you please be a snake that stands up?" I was trying my best to keep him focused on the Stations. I was quietly whispering to him what the different stations were about. So we had gotten through the 3 falls and we were up to Jesus being nailed to the cross. I wasn't convinced that J had been actually listening to my brief explanations of the pictures... until now.
The first Friday came, S and I loaded the kids into the car and hauled them off for 7:00 Stations- which was sure to be a penitential experience since they usually go to bed around 7:30. C was perfect. And then the Stations started and she started screaming at the top of her lungs. So S spent the rest of the Stations pacing with her outside. (I need an old priest and a young priest much?)
J and I remained in the sanctuary. He was very enthusiastic about saying the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be after each station, although he was confused about the lack of hand holding during the Our Father. His enthusiasm was apparently contagious as he began soliciting high-fives from the neighbors after he had successfully finished the 3 prayers. When this parish does Stations, they use projectors to display images for each of the stations. Pros and cons, on one hand, you don't have to move around from station to station. On the other hand, you don't move around from station to station. When the first slide popped up, J started pointing in front of us and exclaimed, "I see Mary! I see Mary!" Truth be told, the image projected was of a slightly feminine looking Jesus. I tried to whisper to J that it was Jesus on the screen. "No, I see Mary." It was at that point that I noticed the angle of his arm, still extended and pointing, was not quite high enough to be pointing to the slides. So I asked, "What color is Mary wearing?" "Blue. I see two Marys." Sitting about 3 rows ahead of us were the two nuns, dressed in blue habits. That was a facepalm moment...
Well, the second Friday came. C was fighting off another stomach bug so S opted to stay at home with her while I took J to Stations. This time, the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be were not the least bit novel. He had no compelling interest to be there. However, we definitely got more fodder for the ever-growing file of "Things I never thought I'd have to say as a parent." "Son, don't lick the pew." "I see you're pretending to be snake. Can you please be a snake that stands up?" I was trying my best to keep him focused on the Stations. I was quietly whispering to him what the different stations were about. So we had gotten through the 3 falls and we were up to Jesus being nailed to the cross. I wasn't convinced that J had been actually listening to my brief explanations of the pictures... until now.
(This isn't quite the image in the booklet, but close enough.)
J took a look at the picture and, because whispering is impossible, cried out, "Oh no! Jesus fell off the cross again!" Sigh...
C was still under the weather on Saturday morning, and since she had been dealing with that bug since Monday, S and I decided we'd plan to keep her home from Mass this past weekend. I took J to the Saturday 4pm vigil. Now, having only one kid in tow, I thought for sure we could handle sitting in the main sanctuary. Wrong, wrong, so wrong. We picked some seats much closer to the front than we normally sit. I was hoping for that mythical experience I hear other parents speak of- you know how it goes, "Sit near the front so the little ones can see what is happening and then they will behave." Good or bad, it's all behavior and boy did he behave! There was the drama over which side of me he could sit- not that I cared, I just wanted him to plant his rear. He was obsessed over my purse (I had left the diaper bag at home with S and C) and wanted to explore the contents. No thank you! The lady sitting next to us wore a sleeveless sweater and J thought her upper arms looked particularly inviting. So he starts stroking the upper arm of this TOTAL STRANGER. I'm raising a creep. Of course I tried to stop him and tried to move him to the other side of me while apologizing profusely, but that resulted in all sorts of vile things being uttered at me from the mouth of my 3 year old and a couple of attempts to hit me. We were somehow surviving the Liturgy of the Word when my son, the fruit of my womb, managed to derail the pastor in the middle of his Homily. Mid-sentence. After all of our fighting over which seat he should use and threats to be taken out and spanked on account of his disrespectful behavior, he finally realized that somebody (the Priest) was talking and he was expected to pay attention. He suddenly stood up on the kneeler, looked intently at the priest, and started waving and yelled out a single "Hi!" The pastor paused, waved back and said "Hi." Well, of course everybody turned around to see who the kid was, the old people were giving J that "Aw, aren't you cute!" look, and J was just eating it up. I, on the other hand, was somewhere between ticked off that these people were inadvertently encouraging my son to misbehave and hoping for a shovel so I could start tunneling my way to China. Just as the consecration was starting, J decided he needed to go to the bathroom. This required parading through much of the Church since we are not sitting on the side with the bathrooms. I'll be honest, in my embarrassment from his Homily disruption, I opted to walk with just a little extra 3rd trimester waddle. Maybe all of these people would be more sympathetic to my plight if I looked like the overwhelmed pregnant mother of a rambunctious pre-schooler. (I know, not the holiest way to approach being a disruption to others' during Mass, but that's why God gives us confession!) We returned to the pews just before that Doxology and Great Amen. Since it was still a kneeling time, I pulled J and I over to stand alongside the wall to wait until after the Our Father so we could be a little less disruptive by returning to our seats during the Sign of Peace. I stood there holding P when the organ swells started and the priest was singing the Doxology. The music was getting appropriately climactic leading to the Amen, and P was picking up on the emotion. He looked over at the altar, held up is arms and yelled, "IT'S THE CIRCLE OF JESUS!!!!!!!" I suppose the silver lining here is that he's on the right track theologically... We went up to communion, and of course he was not happy when his requests of "I want some circles." were denied. Little fit, right there in front of the pastor and the entire assembly...
For all of his misbehavior, at least nobody has to wonder if he's being educated and catechized.
J took a look at the picture and, because whispering is impossible, cried out, "Oh no! Jesus fell off the cross again!" Sigh...
C was still under the weather on Saturday morning, and since she had been dealing with that bug since Monday, S and I decided we'd plan to keep her home from Mass this past weekend. I took J to the Saturday 4pm vigil. Now, having only one kid in tow, I thought for sure we could handle sitting in the main sanctuary. Wrong, wrong, so wrong. We picked some seats much closer to the front than we normally sit. I was hoping for that mythical experience I hear other parents speak of- you know how it goes, "Sit near the front so the little ones can see what is happening and then they will behave." Good or bad, it's all behavior and boy did he behave! There was the drama over which side of me he could sit- not that I cared, I just wanted him to plant his rear. He was obsessed over my purse (I had left the diaper bag at home with S and C) and wanted to explore the contents. No thank you! The lady sitting next to us wore a sleeveless sweater and J thought her upper arms looked particularly inviting. So he starts stroking the upper arm of this TOTAL STRANGER. I'm raising a creep. Of course I tried to stop him and tried to move him to the other side of me while apologizing profusely, but that resulted in all sorts of vile things being uttered at me from the mouth of my 3 year old and a couple of attempts to hit me. We were somehow surviving the Liturgy of the Word when my son, the fruit of my womb, managed to derail the pastor in the middle of his Homily. Mid-sentence. After all of our fighting over which seat he should use and threats to be taken out and spanked on account of his disrespectful behavior, he finally realized that somebody (the Priest) was talking and he was expected to pay attention. He suddenly stood up on the kneeler, looked intently at the priest, and started waving and yelled out a single "Hi!" The pastor paused, waved back and said "Hi." Well, of course everybody turned around to see who the kid was, the old people were giving J that "Aw, aren't you cute!" look, and J was just eating it up. I, on the other hand, was somewhere between ticked off that these people were inadvertently encouraging my son to misbehave and hoping for a shovel so I could start tunneling my way to China. Just as the consecration was starting, J decided he needed to go to the bathroom. This required parading through much of the Church since we are not sitting on the side with the bathrooms. I'll be honest, in my embarrassment from his Homily disruption, I opted to walk with just a little extra 3rd trimester waddle. Maybe all of these people would be more sympathetic to my plight if I looked like the overwhelmed pregnant mother of a rambunctious pre-schooler. (I know, not the holiest way to approach being a disruption to others' during Mass, but that's why God gives us confession!) We returned to the pews just before that Doxology and Great Amen. Since it was still a kneeling time, I pulled J and I over to stand alongside the wall to wait until after the Our Father so we could be a little less disruptive by returning to our seats during the Sign of Peace. I stood there holding P when the organ swells started and the priest was singing the Doxology. The music was getting appropriately climactic leading to the Amen, and P was picking up on the emotion. He looked over at the altar, held up is arms and yelled, "IT'S THE CIRCLE OF JESUS!!!!!!!" I suppose the silver lining here is that he's on the right track theologically... We went up to communion, and of course he was not happy when his requests of "I want some circles." were denied. Little fit, right there in front of the pastor and the entire assembly...
For all of his misbehavior, at least nobody has to wonder if he's being educated and catechized.