I now have a full-on bump (that will likely just keep on growing till April) rendering most of my clothes uncomfortable or awkward. I actually wore the most uncomfortable dark-wash maternity jeans (that I will not recommend) to Mass, but took them off upon our return and stuck them in a good will pile. So not to worry, I didn't wear leggings as pants to Mass.
Carter's entire ensemble: Old Navy
Glasses he didn't wear to Mass: Treat bag given out at school.
Mass behavior: 5/10 for all 4 boys.
Joseph and I were supposed to make coffee and read today, but I forgot about both, so when I went to put the coffee on while he processed with the book of the Gospels, three of the four boys had to be trusted to sit alone in the second pew. Two of them chose to use this parent-less time to dig around in my bag, pull out a play-doh knife and a pregnancy test and begin sword-fighting with them.
Why a pregnancy test you might be wondering? Well, I'm not a sentimentalist by any stretch, but I had it in my bag since testing positive with this latest baby. I didn't throw it in the garbage because at the time because I thought I'd dispose of it at home, so in a little baggy it went. Evidently I forgot it was there, and seriously need to clean out my bag.
Mass then proceeded in the usual fashion. During my husband's reading, our almost-2-year-old kept saying "Dad! Read!"
To summarize the rest of Mass, here's some things I said to the other boys, possibly more than once:
"Finger out of nose please!"
"Touch your brother again and there will be no timbits after Mass"
"I don't know what kind of timbits there will be, you'll have to wait and see."
"Stop throwing pretend grenades."
"Stop shooting at Father"
Near the end, Zachary, 3, got super fidgety, and insisted on running to the back laughing. He came back though, so I told him that Mass isn't over until Father says "the Mass is ended."
When Father did say "the Mass is ended," Zachary tried to leave, and when I stopped him, loudly said, "But he said the Mass is ended!' Perhaps it's better to say that we don't leave until after Father does. When I said "Thanks be to God," I might have been saying it like "Thank God that's over."
That was not our usual jam for Mass, so I was a bit exasperated and puzzled. However, I had the lovely realization that no matter how many times I remind the kids to sit still or pay attention, Jesus still shows up. He still becomes present, and He still wants us there. I chalked that Mass up as one for the books, and left reasonably filled and happy.