We've been neglecting church lately. Let's face it, taking two wild kids to church and making them be both quiet and still is the equivalent to yanking out three teeth, sans painkillers. It's miserable and exhausting and I honestly think in the time since I've had kids, I've only really heard one homily all the way through. Sometimes I ask myself, is it really worth it?
I mean, c'mon - Peanut is the girl who was kicked out of her own baptism. The priest actually shooed her away from the ceremony. I don't take Bjorn to many library story times because the kid doesn't understand "sit still" and "inside voice".
My kids are crazy, and crazy and church don't mix.
But I've been missing it, and although our last experience was a total meltdown of epic proportions, we took a deep breath and faced it again.
All I can say is: It wasn't horrible.
They still climbed around more than I would have liked. Peanut made a few loud shrieks and Bjorn had to go to the bathroom, and started to throw a fit three different times.
It was still better than any other time. I'm hoping we can start going every weekend. It starts the whole week off right, and I really miss church. Practice makes perfect, right?!
What also helped was the absolute adorableness of their attitudes:
"Remember, Bjorn. This is Jesus' house, and we need to be respectful and quiet in Jesus' house. Ok?" said The Hubs as we are sitting in the pew.
"Ok, Daddy. But where is Jesus?"
"He's right there, Bjorn. On the cross." and he points to the front of the church, behind the altar.
"But, but, but, Daddy! But he's frozen!" says Bjorn.
"No, he's not frozen, Bjorn. It's a statue."
But Bjorn isn't buying it.
"You know why he's frozen, Daddy? I think Jack Frost did it!"
Twice the bells rang during the consecration, and Peanut shouted loudly after each time. "Mommy! Your phone!"
Peanut spent most of mass in my arms, pointing at the paintings and statues throughout the church.
"That's Jesus. And Mary." I replied.
"Those are angels."
This occupied her most of the time as we went through the stations of the cross numerous times.
Bjorn began flipping through the hymnal.
"Dad! Dad! This is Mikael Boedker! Number 89! Look, he's here in the book!" and pointed at the page number.
"And Shane Doan Number 19 is in here too! And Mike Smith Number 41!"
And we went through as much of the hockey roster as we knew, finding all the hockey players in the church hymnal. Kept my little hockey lover happy for at least 6.3 minutes.
Yesterday Peanut carried around with her a doll I had found for her to take to church. It's like a little flip book doll, with faces of Mary, Joseph, the Shepherd, Wise Man and Baby Jesus. She adores it and refused to put it down yesterday. Today, Bjorn began playing with it.
"Mom," he said,"I can't remember who this guy is. Who is this? The one with the crown?"
"That's a halo, I think, Bjorn. And that's the shepherd."
"Who is this one?"
"Oh yeah, that's Jesus' Dad. And this is Mary. She is Jesus' Mom." He says, as he flips through the doll faces.
"But, Mom. Who is this?" he asks, pointing to the last face.
"That's Jesus, Bjorn. Baby Jesus." I answered.
"No! Mooooo-ooooom! Jesus isn't a BA-BEE! Jesus is a big boy! I saw him at church, when Jack Frost froze him!"
I think we will be heading to church more often.