Mass With Little Ones

The past two weeks Katie has been getting up early and asking if she can come to Mass with me and Anthony.  Usually when I take both of them to daily Mass it's a recipe for disaster because they fight over my lap and it usually results in Anthony crying loudly or screaming.  But since she's been asking to go things have been surprisingly calm.  The kids are getting along and they've both been very quiet.

I find that what works best with keeping them happy is giving each of them a notebook and some crayons so they can just color and draw. But while Anthony spends a lot of time playing at my feet or just exploring the pew, he does also pay attention.  Some days he watches intently and imitates what the priest is doing as he says Mass.  There have even been times where I've heard him trying to say what the priest is saying.  I think he thinks he's helping them out.  He typically only does it when it's one of the two priests he knows best, his godfather and his "favorite priest." (Father has insisted since he was very small that he's Anthony's favorite.)

So today while in line to receive communion Anthony was having a great time singing on the way up.  Katie, soaking in her surroundings was happily waving her latest drawings, until she got very serious before bowing before the eucharist just before getting a blessing.  And then I notice Father motioning for me to look at Anthony who was in my arms.  He was really hoping to receive communion.  He had his tongue out and had this "I'm waiting" sort of expression on his face.  He was visibly disappointed that he got denied.  He has plenty of people who attend daily Mass who all think he already has a good understanding of what goes on at Mass.  Perhaps they're right.  I'm curious to see how he reacts going forward.  Today was the first time I've ever noticed him hoping to receive.

It amazes me how much little ones pick up when they attend Mass frequently.

Pencils and Cheerios

Anthony really likes to keep me on my toes.  There's just something about this little guy that drives me crazy and makes me laugh all at the same time.

Yesterday he was such a busy little guy that I wound up falling asleep on the couch before 7pm while Bryan and the girls were at soccer practice.  The last thing I remember before Katie woke me up was having Anthony sitting in front of me on the couch while we all watched Mulan.  She frantically woke me up from a nice, but way too short, nap to tell me that Anthony was playing in the toilet.  Ugh!  I don't know what it is about him, but he really likes to dip toilet paper in the toilet and then pull it out to watch the water drip on the floor.  It seriously makes me gag.

Earlier that day he asked for a banana and I gave him some cut up banana.  Minutes later when he asked for another banana I told him "no" and I thought that was the end of it.  Of course, it wasn't.  He found a way to reach the rest of the bunch, and went into the family room where he proceeded to bite through the peels of three bananas.  He actually ate the peels off the backs of the bananas.  If you're wondering who does stuff like that, I can give you an answer.  Anthony.  Anthony does stuff like that.

Today he was very quiet at Mass.  He was happily playing with some of those little golf pencils that our church has out in the pews from a charity campaign that is ongoing.  When he decided to stop scribbling all  over my Magnificat pages, he decided that pencil points where the ideal vehicle for picking up Cheerios.  I guess he feels more sophisticated eating his Cheerios with a pencil instead of his fingers.  I kept trying to pry the pencil from his kung fu grip, but the more I tried the more it seemed like I was going to send him into a full out tantrum.  So in the interest of not causing a major scene during the consecration, I decided to just let him use the pencil as an eating utensil.  Good thing the "lead" is really graphite and not actual lead.

I did think his pencil as utensil showed some creativity.  His very odd antics often reveal that he's a pretty smart kid who likes to find solutions to the problems he encounters.

Hearts Can Change

I posted on Friday about how I was given a note telling me to take Anthony to the crying room by someone who was obviously annoyed by him.  The note had me very upset.  So upset that I felt the need to write a letter to our pastor about it and at the urging of Bryan, also to share a picture of the note I received to our parish Facebook page.

On Facebook plenty of people responded in a short amount of time.  Those who knew me were outraged, and several other's were also upset that someone would feel the need to leave such a note rather than just approach me face to face to discuss what she felt was a problem.  There were some good discussions coming out of that post, but ultimately, our pastor asked that it be removed.   By that point my letter to him had already been delivered outlining the issue and asking what he felt the best way to handle the situation would be.

This morning at daily Mass we all got to hear his response to my letter.  He made it abundantly clear that none of us should have a problem with the sounds of children in the church.  He also talked about how leaving notes like the one I received on Friday was not a Christian response.  Posting about the incident on social media was also addressed, since he felt it had the ability to fan the flames of an issue that can cause division.  So clearly the logic behind the post and it's subsequent conversation was revealed.

In all, Father's homily was top notch.  He explained to those present why some parents choose to avoid the crying room, citing that it is a circus room and not a place where parents can teach their child how to behave at Mass.  He addressed that it's not a problem to have a child making sounds during Mass, but how in cases where the child is wailing and unable to be quieted, how it would be prudent to remove the child for a time.  That we have done, and most people we have seen with little ones have done that as well.

I felt one of his best points related to the dropping fertility rate and how as people have chosen to have fewer children, we have created a society that is less accepting of the sounds of children.  He pointed out that these little ones have something to teach us and should not be excluded.  Because our society has become less child friendly, it has essentially gotten many of us to a point where we expect not to be bothered by them or their sounds when out in public.  He made it a point to state that when you attend a public event, such as a Mass, you cannot expect or anticipate that there will not be children or other distractions around you.  He let people know that that quiet some of them expect at Mass can be found in our adoration chapel.  I know that's one place I don't take my little ones unless it's empty, and if other people show up while we are there I always leave so we don't disturb them.

After Mass there was a lot of talk about the homily.   Many of the people there that know me were aware of what happened on Friday so they felt as I did that the homily was very well done.  I do wish the woman who wrote the note had been there this morning, but she wasn't. (I do think she sat in front of us at Sunday Mass.)  Grumpy Cat Lady, however, was there.  Over the past six or seven weeks I've been making it a point to say hello to her, hold doors for her and ask her how she is doing when I see her.  Today as I was walking out of the church with Anthony she came up to us with a big smile on her face to tell me how well behaved she thought he was today.  She even told Anthony he was really good.  So hearts can change.  It was such a welcome exchange and gives me hope that we will win her over in time.  Bryan thinks the homily might have played a big part in her change of tone, and he might be right.

So if you're the mom of the noisy baby at church and someone says something unkind or leaves you a note telling you where you should take that baby, take a deep breath before you respond.  If they don't run off as soon as saying something, tell them why you're not going to be pushed into a crying room or why you'll continue coming to the church.  Maybe you're like me and you have more than one little one.  On days when it's just me, Anthony and Katie, I know if I get up to take Anthony out of the church the noise level will escalate to fever pitch because Katie will then have a total freak out.  So sometimes what looks like the logical choice to an outsider is the lesser of two evils.  If, as in my situation, the person does an attack and run approach, write a letter to your pastor or approach him about it and let him know what happened and how you feel such a message can become a problem not just for you, but for other families as well.  If you have priests who are not shy about welcoming children at Mass they may just be your biggest ally in getting the rest of the parish community to accept the little ones.

Response to the Well Intentioned Lady at Mass

Hi,
I don't think we've ever been properly introduced, but I see you around at Mass frequently enough.  My name is Karen and the toddler I often have at my side at daily Mass is Anthony.  He'll be two in May.

My son really enjoys coming to Mass with me.  Our church is really like a second home to him, he's that comfortable there!  You see, he's grown up in this church.  From the time he was six days old he's been at Mass nearly every day of his life.  Typically I don't go to daily Mass on Saturday mornings since it's the only day of the week I ever get to sleep past 6:15am.  But on weekdays you can find me, Anthony, and depending on the day any one of my three older daughters at the 8am Mass.

I want you to know that I'm very touched that so many of the people at daily Mass are so happy to have us around.  People, who I worry I am bothering by bringing my son to Mass with me, come up to me before or after Mass all the time to tell me how happy they are to see and hear him each day and how he reminds them of their grandchildren or great-grandchildren.  Did you know that the people who sit in the front of the left hand side of the church talk among themselves when they hear Anthony come in and start making sounds?  Apparently they refer to him as "our baby."  I didn't know that until recently.  They've been referring to him as their baby since he was very small, I'm told.  I actually think it's really sweet that they think of him that way.

One of the things I love about the people we attend daily Mass with is how loving and kind they are.  I hope you've experienced some of the kindness and love that Anthony and I have.  You, me and Anthony are all so blessed to have such great people who come together and pray with us at Mass each day.  Don't you think?

I want you to know that I'm not oblivious to the sounds my children, especially the baby, make at Mass.  Probably more than anyone else in the church, I, the one right next to the baby, cringe when he starts to make noise.  If it's happy sounds or him singing I try to relax and not worry about it.  His godfather likes to point out that Anthony is crying out to God his Father when he starts making noise at Mass.  I suppose he's right.  With only a few words in his vocabulary, I suppose he prays the only way he knows how.  I can tell you that he knows how to make the sign of the cross.  Have you ever noticed how cute a toddler is when he does that?  Anyway, I digress.  I know the noise can sometimes be unpleasant.  But that is life.  Life isn't always neat and tidy or quiet.  When each of us comes to Mass we don't cease to live life for that half hour or hour that we are in the church.  Those of us with years of practice and self control will obviously have a better handle on keeping still and quiet, but little ones have a hard time acting like adults, because that's not the nature of a small child.

I know you are bothered by the noise my son makes.  I'm sorry for that, but I'd like to point out to you that none of us are perfect.  Not me, not my son, not you, or even the priest who's offering Mass that day.  I'm sure that each one of us does something that annoys someone else, and I bet a lot of us bother people at Mass, but you probably are unaware of it if you do because most people will recognize that the person who is doing something that annoys you is a beloved child of God, and that person has every right to be there worshipping God as just as you do.

You asked me to take my child to the crying room, which makes me think you are annoyed by the presence of a little child at Mass.  I am sorry his sounds bother you, I really am.  But let me tell you why I'm going to continue sitting right where I always sit at daily Mass.  That spot, where we sit, right under the station of the cross that says "Jesus dies for us", reminds me day after day that I am broken and in need of a savior.  But there's more.  I sit where I do because should my son begin to make an excessive amount of noise, I can easily walk to the rear of the church and either stand outside the glass doors until he's calm or just stand next to the holy water inside the church and he's happy.  I don't often leave the pew because I'm teaching my son that when we go to Mass we stay in our seat.  We don't get up and walk around and take breaks.  Raising little ones and teaching them how to behave is a tedious process that takes years.  I don't know you, so I don't know if you ever had little ones or not.  If you do have children then I suspect you know what a difficult, yet important job I have in guiding my child to become a good Catholic man someday.   But I'd like to ask you if you've ever been to the crying room.  Have you felt how icy cold the room is during the winter months and have you felt how swelteringly hot it is during the summer?  It's not an inviting space.  Also, did you know during the week that the crying room is empty?  Going to daily Mass and sitting all alone in a cold room looking through hazy glass to see Mass going on down below is a great way to feel like you're not part of congregation, but rather a spectator.  My family and I sit in the pews because we're raising our children, who are members of the church by virtue of their baptism every bit as much as you or I,  to learn how to worship and adore their God at Mass.  We've done the crying room with our eldest daughter and it was a disaster.  The crying room is more like the circus room.  There's no reverence and people act like they aren't even at Mass.  It is not a place to teach your children how to behave at Mass.

Now maybe I'm reading something into your note.  Perhaps you assumed that I didn't know there was a crying room and you've taken some inspiration from the banners listing the works of mercy behind the altar and decided that it would be a mercy for you to instruct the ignorant and inform me that our parish is equipped with one.  Might I suggest in instances where you find yourself annoyed by my child or anyone else at Mass that you opt instead to bear wrongs patiently?  Offer the annoyance up to Our Lord.  Tell Him that you can't stand the sounds of the little baby that He loves and made in His image and likeness.  Talk to Him and then listen to see what He says.  I'm sorry, but I believe Our Lord is just as happy to see my baby in the church even on his most obnoxious screaming day, as He is to see you there when you are having a good day, a bad day, a day when you're just going through the motions, or even a day when you're angry with Him and can't understand why He placed whatever cross you're struggling with at that moment in your midst.  He loves each of us in spite of ourselves.

If I misjudged the nature of your note, I'm sorry.  I have a difficult time believing it was written with a charitable spirit, especially considering you dropped it at the place where we were sitting on your way back from communion as you left the church.  And considering you didn't sign your name to it, I can't help but feel it was a bit passive aggressive.  If you were that upset by the baby's sounds you could have stayed until the end of Mass and approached me to discuss it.  I want you to know that you hurt my feelings and made me to feel like I was unwelcome.  You are not the first person in recent memory to do this.  But like her, I will treat you with kindness and I forgive you for hurting me.  It may take me a bit of time to get over it, but I will.  Just know that in the meantime I'll be praying for you.  I pray that God will soften your heart.  Perhaps you have some circumstance in your life that makes hearing the sounds of a baby happily singing bother you.  I am sorry if the joyful noise of one of God's little ones upsets you, but I urge you to take it to Our Lord.

Going forward, please bear in mind that your actions and words, whether spoken or written, have the ability to hurt those around you.  Your note, which thankfully I did not read until after Mass was over and after I had prayed for you, upset me so much that I left the church in tears.  Those who encountered me on the way out were upset that anyone would do what you chose to do.  Had you given me this note on a day when Anthony was exceptionally loud, I likely would not have been as upset as I was in receiving it today.  I would like to point out to you that Anthony made no noise until the offertory.  It wasn't until Fr. Pete called him out for not making the noises that he loves to hear, that Anthony made any noise.  Prior to that my son was happily munching on Cheerios, which I bring to keep him quiet, and scribbling on a piece of paper.

So again, I'm sorry that the sounds of my child disturbed you.  I suspect that you might be less bothered by his sounds and antics if you perhaps sat on the other side of the church where it appears to be quieter.  We won't be offended if you choose to sit further away from us at Mass, just know that I plan to continue sitting in the same place, give or take a pew, for the foreseeable future.  Somedays will be louder than others, I'm sure, but as always I will do my best to keep my child as quiet as I can.  Unfortunately that free will that Our Lord endows each of us with kicks in at birth, so as much as I, too, would love to go to a Mass that is so quiet you can hear a pin drop, even I can't stop the baby from making noise.  Know that I am right there with you in disliking noise during Mass, but when I hear a baby crying or a child loudly talking, instead of grabbing a pencil and paper to tell the mom where to go, I offer up a prayer for the child and the parent with him.  It's rough being the parent of the kid who makes noise.  People will turn and glare at you and occasionally someone will snap on your child inches from his face or leave a note that is the equivalent of saying: "Dear Mother, Your child is annoying and not welcome to sit with the rest of us.  Please either go to the crying room or don't come here."  It's not a fun place to be, but it's life.  Can you just imagine if someone were to snap on the lady who reeks of perfume and tell her she should go sit outside so she doesn't bother people who can't handle the way she smells?  How awful and tactless that would be!  Or what if the man who says all the prayers too fast or too slow, or the woman who is singing her heart out to God and hitting every wrong note along the way were told they should go sit somewhere else if they can't say the responses with perfect timing or sing perfectly.  That wouldn't be a Christian response at all and I imagine it would really hurt the person who was on the receiving end of such comments.

Finally, let me tell you why your note struck such a chord with me.  It not so much because you hurt my feelings, which you certainly did, but it's because I worry that you have done or will do this to another parent.  This is the sort of thing that may make a family decide that it's just not worth going to Mass anymore, or at least not while their child is still very young.  Would you really want to be the catalyst that drives someone from the Church and perhaps places their soul and the souls of their children in peril?  I wouldn't want that on my conscience at all.  People will remember when they've been offended or treated unkindly so ask yourself before you act if what you are doing is being done out of your own selfish desires or out of a spirit of charity.

Kind Regards,
Karen

Because I Just Had to Wonder

I tend to wonder about a lot of scenarios.  They always pop into my head as just random thoughts like: If I ran out of diapers while out and the baby needed to be changed what would I do?  They're almost always scenarios that could be likely but are probably highly unlikely.  Sometimes I have a solution for the situation in mind and other times I just push it away and pray that I never have to find out.  Today one of those scenarios I hoped would never happen, happened.

The scenario is: What would you do if one of your children vomit during Mass?  My initial panic reaction revolves around how I'm going to clean it up.  Our parish has hand dryers in the restrooms, so running to get paper towels isn't an option.  Fortunately for us, I had wipes on hand and it wasn't like crazy full out stomach virus caliber vomiting.  Anthony was asleep until the Gospel and we assumed all was well with him.  He woke up, was fussy, and seemed like he just wanted to go back to sleep.  Then he started acting like he needed to drink so I gave him his cup.  Seconds later we heard that cough that all mother's dread and my arm was suddenly bathed in vomit.

We didn't know if there was going to be another round so Bryan took Anthony to the back to the church to clean him up while I used wipes to clean up myself and any surrounding areas he may have hit.  Since Bryan came back about 5-10 minutes later and Anthony seemed like he was going to make it, we didn't have to cut out mid-Mass.  The homily was about temptation and I thought it was pretty fitting since I was pretty tempted to just get up and leave after the vomit incident.

So now I know how we would handle small scale vomiting and clean up at Mass, but I have no idea and I hope I'll never have to find out how we would handle something on a larger scale.

When Your Crying Baby Gets Singled Out at Mass

Yesterday morning was a crazy rush to get myself and all of the kids out the door so we could make it to Mass.  It was snowing a bit and sticking to the road, and since just about everyone seems to show up at Ash Wednesday Mass I knew we needed to be out of the house earlier than I normally leave if we wanted to find a seat easily.  Last year we got there right when we normally would arrive and had a rough time finding a place for all of us to sit.  So I decided that we needed to plan ahead this year.

We got there nice and early and Anthony got settled two pews behind Grumpy Cat Lady (I opted to give her a one pew buffer rather than sit in our usual Sunday spot and risk irritating her.).  Right now there are some little pencils and some pledge cards for our annual diocese charity so Anthony has been having a grand time scribbling on the cards and not only staying in one spot for most of the Mass, but also being quiet.  A pencil and a little notebook are going to be finding a home in my bag soon.

All was going relatively well.  Katie was being her usual grumpy self because I didn't bring her homework, which we had forgotten about until that morning, into the church, but it wasn't anything awful.  We were in good shape until the homily.  At that point Katie decided that she needed to use the potty, so Madeline took her to the restroom.  And that's when Anthony decided that he must yell after them.  When that didn't yield them coming back right away he decided that he just needed to yell louder and louder.  All the while, poor Father was trying to give a homily.  But he's used to this noisy baby so he just decided to talk louder and louder until that wasn't good enough and he just needed to stop gesture towards us and say something about  "the set of lungs on that baby."  That was the only part of the sentence I could hear clearly.  Sigh.  I don't have a tally of how many shout outs Anthony has gotten at Mass in the past 21 1/2 months, but I can tell you it's a lot, and it's never any less mortifying.  Father took what felt like a two minute tangent to talk about Mr. Noisy Baby who oddly enough decided to chill out and quietly drink from his cup while Father talked about how he's not bothered by loud Anthony and how none of us should be either.  Part of me wondered how our friend Grumpy Cat Lady reacted to that.  But then I started thinking about how while it's great to know that Anthony and his often loud cries, singing, talking and spitting/raspberry sounds are really welcomed in our church by our parish priests and even most of the visiting ones, as well as most of the people we go to daily Mass with each morning, I realized that I am not always ok with that noise.

So those words about not being bothered by a crying baby have got me thinking.  I'm generally not bothered by other people's crying babies.  In fact, if your child is wailing somewhere in the church,  I'll send up a prayer for you because I know how it feels when you're holding the crying baby and you can feel the eyes of others on you as you try to get your little one calmed.  It's not fun to be the one with the crying baby, particularly when you feel self conscious about it.  It's nothing short of a dose of humility when said noisy baby gets pointed out during a homily.  This morning, I think Anthony was trying to see if he could go two for two with our pastor.  Almost immediately after Father started his homily Anthony started talking over him, but fortunately it was short lived.

I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to being the mom with the noisy baby at Mass.  I suppose there will come a day when I might miss these days of having a noisy boisterous baby happily shouting out to God, but I think those days are a little further down the road.

It's More Than Just How You Respond

Last Friday was New Years day, but, more importantly, it was the solemnity celebrating Mary, Mother of God.  I always love celebrating Marian feast days, and this day was no different.  My eldest daughters were both scheduled to altar serve the morning Mass so the Mass we were attending was already chosen for us.  Katie, still had a fever from a recurring ear and sinus infection so she stayed home with Bryan while I took Anthony and the older girls.  I assumed I'd have a few of my normal struggles with Anthony climbing in, on and under the pews and making some noise, but I figured if I can wrangle him by myself at daily Mass most weekdays that I'd be just fine with him for what would be an hour Mass.

Anthony is not shy at Mass.  This kid will happily babble, sing, wave hello, and even participate at Mass when he can.  But, he's still a toddler, so sometimes he cries and sometimes he just makes small little noises that many people seem to enjoy.  He has quite the following of people from daily Mass who simply adore him and all the chaos that he brings with him.  But despite him having so many fans, I still make sure I'm prepared with a sippy cup, bag of cheerios, a couple of pacifiers, and a Thomas train whenever I go to Mass to keep him occupied and as quiet and still as possible.  I'm very conscience of the noises he makes and I do everything I can to make sure he's not a major disruption.  Some days are good and people hardly realize he's there and other days are not so good and I hope that the noise sitting next to or climbing all over me isn't as loud as I think it is.  Sometimes, those are the days when Anthony gets called out during a homily or at the end of Mass.  Those shout outs used to totally mortify me, but when they happen at what feels like 50% of the Masses we attend, I've gotten used to it, but there are still times (this past Christmas Eve comes to mind) where I want to pretend I have no idea who Father is talking about, but that's hard to do when you're holding said noisy baby.

We belong to an awesome parish where most people who approach me about my kids and their antics have very nice and encouraging things to say.  And some of the ones who do come up to comment on the noise do it in such a lighthearted way that I'm never upset about it.  I am aware that there are a few people at daily Mass who are less than thrilled about some of Anthony's noises, but aside from a glance or a sharp look when he's particularly vocal, they've never felt the need to approach me about it.

This past Friday, however, was different.  I always sit in the same pew for Sunday Mass and holy days of obligation.  So when we got to the church, the girls went to the sacristy to get ready to altar serve and Anthony and I went and sat in our usual spot.  The spot that had the lady my kids call Grumpy Cat Lady, because she looks like Grumpy Cat from those memes, sitting in the pew right in front of where we sit.  Several months ago Bryan pointed out to me that this particular woman has a habit of moving from her pew to another pew across the church anytime Anthony is behind her.  The first several times she did it, I never noticed.  I would see her in the pew, kneel down to pray and when I was finished the pew would either be empty or someone different would be sitting there.  I always assumed that she was there from a prior Mass and had just left after she finished praying.  Then there was the day when I finished praying and Bryan, looking annoyed, leaned over and told me that she moved again and told the woman next to her that Anthony was a screamer.  At that particular Mass, Anthony didn't make a single sound.  She turned and looked at us when we slipped into the pew and was visibly annoyed, so I wondered if she was going to move away from us.  While I prayed before Mass, Anthony walked along the kneeler and the backs of my legs and quietly hummed what sounded like the Alleluia.  It was a sweet happy little sound that was fairly quiet for him.  He wedged himself between me and the back of the pew ahead of me while I was still kneeling and that's when I heard a growling "Shhhh!" which snapped me out of praying and caused me to look up.  It was followed by a grumbling "Be quiet!" right in Anthony's face.   My first thought was that she wasn't serious since he wasn't loud and he wasn't crying.  She turned back, obviously annoyed and in a huff.  Within a minute she had decided to pick up and move across the church and up a couple of pews.

Her actions just left me washed in emotions.  I was hurt that she felt the need to so angrily snap at the baby.  And then I started to feel very annoyed that she even thought that it was ok to do it which made me start to wonder how many people she's done this to before.   Were we the only ones or have other families had her snap at their children or been made to feel unwelcome by her practice of getting up and moving away from them in a very obvious manner.  Then I started to think about how I would have felt and reacted if this had happened when Madeline or Ellie were his age.  I likely would have left the church right away horribly embarrassed and would have thought twice about going back for a long time if at all.  I know it would have made me cry.

I know that not everyone has to like the sounds of children at Mass, but how you respond to those things that annoy or distract you at Mass affects those around you.  Based on people coming up to me after the Mass and making overly kind comments about Anthony, I suspect her growling at the baby and subsequent relocation was noticed by those around me.  I don't have the answer for the right way to approach the parent of a noisy child, because I also don't know how to tell the gossiping old ladies who chatter before and sometimes during Mass to zip it because they're bothering me.  I also don't know how to tell the people who come to Mass doused in a bottle of smelly perfume that makes me feel sick to my stomach to lay off the scent.  And, I also have no idea how to tell the people who either say the responses too fast, too slow or incorrectly to get with the program and say them right and on time.  Do you know why I don't know the answers to those situations?  It's because there are no tactful ways to tell someone that you find their presence at Holy Mass annoying.  Responding rudely to someone at Mass may just be the thing that sends them out the door never to return.  If you make it clear to someone that their presence at Mass is annoying and unwelcome they make take your hint and not come back.  Would you want that on your conscience?  I know I wouldn't.

Now I don't know why this woman is so grouchy about kids.  Maybe she never had any or she just doesn't like children at all.  Maybe seeing or hearing little kids reminds her that she has grandchildren that she never sees.  A lot of people come up and tell me about their grandchildren that they never see or that parents never go to Mass and how they wish they would take them.  So maybe she has a personal issue and Anthony strikes a nerve that hits a little too close to home.  But we all have crosses to bear and lashing out at someone because their presence makes your cross a bit more difficult to carry in that moment isn't going to make anything better.  I know for me personally there are times when I am sharply reminded of one of my crosses, but I can't take it out on someone else just because it upsets me.  In those moments, I bring it to Our Lord and let him know why I'm upset, but I don't move away from what's upsetting me because I believe that it was placed before me for the benefit of helping me to grow in holiness.

So ultimately what I'm trying to say here is this:  If you have a problem with the presence of a noisy baby, before confronting the parent or the baby about it stop and take a few moments to bring it to Our Lord.  Tell Him that the annoying child that He created is getting on your last nerve.  Tell Him why you find that child of God so repugnant and then take a few moments to see what He has to say.  Then take a few moments and ask yourself if you might just be overreacting.  Maybe you're justified in saying something, maybe you're not.  Perhaps, this moment is a test.  You could perhaps see it as a moment to bear a wrong patiently.  Chances are the baby isn't doing it to annoy you, he's just doing it because he's little and he's testing out his God-given free will probably much to his parents' dismay.  It's even possible that that mother sitting all by herself with an energetic toddler who treats the church like it's his second home is incredibly self conscious about every single sound her child is making, even the ones you don't hear.  Mass with little ones can be very exhausting.  It's an hour packed with trying to contain a little one who wants to run, climb, crawl, yell, sing and explore a very curious building filled with many new faces.  It's enough to leave you feeling like you need a nap afterwards.  While lashing out at the parent or baby might make you feel vindicated or triumphant, I can assure you that it will be remembered by the parent long past when you've forgotten what you've said.

On Vomit and Confession

My past week has really been something.  It's the kind of something that I'd choose never to experience again if I were in control of such things and I'd certainly go back and delete it if that were even a possibility.

Last Friday afternoon Anthony started spitting up huge amounts.  So much that I started to question whether there might have been oatmeal in his new box of rice cereal since he was reacting the way he does when he has oatmeal.  The spitting up, which we later realized was vomit, kept happening, and it wasn't until he vomited about two ounces of baby food that I was still in the process of feeding him for dinner that we realized there was something other than just regular spit up going on.  Almost immediately after the disturbing dinnertime display he began vomiting a lot and his color quickly turned very sickly looking.  He was starting to remind us of how Katie looked when she dehydrated from her bout with pneumonia so Bryan ran out and got him pedialyte and we began hydrating him every ten minutes with a few MLs of pedialyte.  After an hour or two he was seeming a bit better, but it was obvious that he wasn't feeling well.

Neither of us was comfortable with the idea of putting him to be in his room, so we set up a playpen in the family room and decided he would stay down there with us until we were certain the vomiting had passed and he was hydrated.  I had kept telling Bryan that I thought I felt sick, too, but he kept telling me that I was just worried about the baby and his impending business trip to Denver.  I figured he was right since I do stress out to the point of feeling ill when he goes away and I was also stressing out about the baby.

Around ten or eleven at night I started getting sick.  By midnight I was vomiting all over the bathroom floor because I had no other choice.  Within minutes Bryan was also sick and once the next wave of feeling sick came around Bryan and I were practically doing synchronized vomiting.  Then Anthony got in on the action and woke up wanting of all things, to be fed and held and neither Bryan and I were in a position to tend to him.  Nursing a baby while succumbing to a nasty stomach virus just isn't possible.

We ended up having to wake Madeline at 1AM and have her come down to take care of the baby and help us as we tried to clean up two bathrooms that were covered in vomit.  An hour or so later Katie woke up and had vomited all over her bed, herself and her carpet.  So Madeline had a new patient.  I tried as best I could to help clean up the mess, but that's not easy when you're also throwing up and running to the bathroom every few minutes.  We got Katie settled and an hour or two later Ellie fell victim to the same horrid fate as the rest of us [except Madeline].

I don't think Madeline got much sleep the rest of the night as she helped her younger siblings and did her best to get the loads and loads of vomit laundry through the washer.  She came through for us in a huge way.  I'm not sure if we would have survived without her.  She kept the baby hydrated, made sure Bryan, the girls and I had drinks, saltines and orange slices.

I'm amazed that the didn't get hit with the stomach bug, too, but we think she may have had it last month.  The day after Christmas she was sick and had very similar symptoms to the rest of us.  She was the only one to get sick with it then.

The timing for this virus was not ideal.  Bryan was getting ready to leave for a business trip and I had loosely planned out my Saturday.  Once I had gotten sick I realized that heading to Mass for the feast day of St. Francis de Sales who has become one of my favorite saints over the past year or two was out.  And going to confession was also out.  Soon enough I realized that there was no way I was able to teach my CCD class on Sunday and there was no way we could go to Mass and share our grotesque stomach bug with everyone else.  Even though we all stopped vomiting by early Saturday morning the fun of horrible body aches, fevers and dizziness were just getting warmed up for their two day stay.  I laid on the couch thinking to myself that labor, strep throat, ear infections, and possibly hand foot and mouth disease were all less miserable.  Of course, that last one is a misery in itself and I'd rather have the stomach bug for a few days than relive a day of hand, foot and mouth disease.

We were mostly all on the mend by very late Sunday night or Monday morning.  Katie and Ellie had some lingering effects for a day or two after, but were doing much better by today.  Anthony, on the other hand, will seem like he's doing just fine and out of nowhere have an explosive diaper.  That I could handle.  But this evening I fed him dinner and then loaded the kids into the car so we could go to confession.  All was going well.  We were there right at 6:00 when confessions begin and I was hopeful that we might not be at the end of a long line since the parking lot hardly had any cars in it.  Then I opened the door to get Anthony and was met with a baby sitting in a puddle of vomit that consisted of all the freshly pureed peas I had just fed him.

I thought maybe the spit up wasn't as bad as I thought but a quick attempt to clean him up with a burp cloth revealed that there was no way I was getting this child out of his seat and standing in a line for confession.  We would have had a slimy green trail following us.  It was that bad.  It was so bad that I took pictures when we got home so I could show Bryan.

As I stood in the cold parking lot completely defeated, I told the girls to get back in the car.  They were more than happy to comply.  I was just left with the feeling that if I didn't need to go to confession when I pulled into the church parking lot, I certainly needed to go now.  Patience had officially left the building.  Inside my head I raised my little white flag of surrender to God, all the while grumbling that I now had a phenomenally bad mess to clean.

When we got home I made the unhappy discovery that Anthony needed bath number two in four hours. The kid was covered in green pea vomit.  Can I shock all of you and tell you that I've bathed Anthony three times in the past two days which is more times than I've bathed him in the past month.  Bryan is much better at washing babies than I am, so I usually propose to him that I'll dry and dress the baby if he washes.  So yes, he's cleaned regularly, just not by me.  I will say that I'm feeling more confident washing him after the last two baths I gave him today.

Once he was cleaned I set about getting his clothes sent down to the laundry room only to discover that the dog decided to try washing them.  Arrgh!  Why are dogs so gross?

The real fun began when I had to pull the carseat out of the van.  That cute cover that can be pulled off for washing so you don't have to remove the harness is a load of crap for people who don't live in reality land.  When junior pukes all over the harness and there's so much vomit that it dribbles out of the car seat and onto the car upholstery, the easy remove seat pad is worthless.  I had lots of choice words and thoughts about the engineers and designers of the Britax Marathon 70-G3.  Ignore my 5 star review of it on Amazon.  I obviously didn't have real world baby disaster experience with the seat when I wrote the review.  My recurring thought was "What genius makes a car seat where the *@&%@*$ harness cannot be removed?!"  It's covered in green pea sludge and the omnipotent owners manual is telling me to "sponge clean" the harness if it needs to be cleaned.  Ok, Britax manual writer....you're drunk, you probably don't have any children and have never had to clean up green vomit; it's time to pack it up and go home.

So picture me dear readers at the kitchen sink with a giant car seat sitting on the counter top with the harness, dripping with green oozy grossness hanging out of the bottom of the seat and into the sink so I can wash it with mild soap.  The seat and the fantastic design that does not allow the harness to come out is an occasion of sin, my friends.  Plain and simple.  On the bright side, I kept all the expletives that I had regarding the seat, and it's designers in my head so the kids were at least spared that nice little show.

Madeline had very kindly offered to clean the puddle of green slime off the car upholstery, so that was a huge help.  I was really impressed to see that the got it all up.  I guess she gained some practical life experience this past weekend.

I was going to attempt to put the carseat cover back on the seat tonight and get it back out in the van, but it's not dry.  I hope it will dry sometime this evening so I can get everything back where it belongs.  I'd really like to get to Mass tomorrow morning.  This is one of those times where I wish I didn't keep our spare carseat in Bryan's car.  Since he's out in Denver until tomorrow, my spare seat is sitting over in the Philly airport parking lot.  Some days it just seems like nothing can be easy.  Too bad this happens to be one of those days, right?

I'm looking forward to tomorrow.  Bryan will be back and I don't know about you, but I'm confident that it's going to be a vomit free day.  If it's not, I'm going to go and eat a lot of chocolate and have a glass of cranberry wine.

If you made it to the end, thanks for sticking with me.  I promise not to talk so much about vomit next time.  Maybe I'll talk about the upcoming name change for the blog.  Oh and how happy are you that I didn't share any pictures with this story?  I almost did.  Sure they aren't something anyone really wants to see, but the watermark on the picture would have revealed the new name for my blog.

{Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real} My Little Man

Capturing the context of contentment in everyday life...

{Pretty}

Can you believe how big my handsome little Man Man is?  He'll be six month's old on All Saints' Day.  His expressive eyebrows remind us of Muppet characters.

{Happy}

You wouldn't know this thanks to my incredibly sparse blogging, but every Thursday since Anthony was one week old, I've been taking pictures of him on the chair in the nursery with this bear.  Today he decided after a few pictures that he was going to snuggle with his bear.

{Real Funny}

Bryan snapped this picture of Anthony tonight.  I love his expression.  This little guy has to be our most expressive baby ever.   Oh and did you notice that he's sitting all by himself?  Last week he figured out how to sit up on his own and now he does it quite frequently.  A few days ago he started getting up on his hands and knees and rocking back and forth.  He'll probably be crawling soon enough!

Visit Like Mother, Like Daughter for more pictures of contentment.

Quick Takes: On My Mind

~1~

I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do.  I really wish I could blog a bit more since this space is pretty much where I record milestones the kids hit and things of that nature.  I feel like I'm totally dropping the ball with recording what has been going on with Anthony.  Can you believe he's already five months old?

~2~

We have the first quarter of the school year behind us.  This week we began the second quarter.  I'm waiting on some grades for Madeline but all of Ellie's grades have come back and she's done incredibly well with everything.  Her lowest grade for the marking period was an A- and she's very proud of herself.

~3~

About a month ago we looked into getting Katie evaluated to see if she could benefit from speech therapy since she doesn't talk a lot.  I took a week and a half for the place we called to let me know that there is about a four month wait to get an appointment.  The whole thing has me feeling frustrated.  I am noticing that she's speaking more but it seems like she has some days where she picks up a lot of words and then we hit a dry patch where she seems to prefer not using those words.  I am finding that she's talking more now than she did two months ago, but I still feel like she's behind.  The most frustrating part is knowing that she can talk but pretty much chooses not to.  

~4~

Anthony is an active little guy.  He log rolls when he wants to get to one of us or a toy.  Last Saturday he was in the family room playing on a quilt with some toys and he rolled into the kitchen where Bryan and the girls were doing something.   He will even just roll around the perimeter of a room to play with different toys.  He certainly likes to explore!

~5~

Madeline and Ellie have soccer tournaments this weekend so they'll be busying playing lots of games.  I started feeling a bit under the weather last night so I think the little ones and I will probably stay home.  I'm not sure if it's my allergies that are bothering me or if I'm coming down with a cold or something.

~6~

For the past month we've been trying to get Anthony to eat baby food and he's not the least bit interested.  The first few times we tried giving him food he ate a little bit of it.  We had one night where he ate a decent amount and then about an hour and a half later when I was nursing him he had a very scary spitting up incident where he projectile vomited for what seemed like several seconds with garden hose velocity.  He actually seemed limp towards the end of the episode.  It ranks as one of the scariest parenting moments I've had.  He seemed very shaken up about it and I certainly was, too.  Ever since then he pretty much refuses to even swallow anything I give him on a spoon.  If I put it in his mouth he pushes it out and won't open his mouth.  I'm hoping that he'll be willing to try food sometime in the near future.  I think he might associate baby food with the scary vomiting incident.  Can a five month old make a connection like that?  It's the only thing that seems to make sense.

~7~

Katie will turn three next week.  It's so hard to believe that she's already that old.  It seems like the older I get the faster time seems to fly.

Busy, busy, busy!

It seems like there's always something going on around here.  It's like there's never time to sit down and just write a blog post, or I start to write one and suddenly there's a queue of kids asking me what feels like a thousand questions.

Last week I had the hardest time sleeping for a couple of days and after two nights of only four hours of sleep each night I was completely exhausted.  Despite feeling incredibly tired I then found that I just couldn't sleep.  It wasn't until Friday that I started to be able to catch up on sleep.  I'm just now starting to feel like I've had enough sleep to function properly.

I think were now a laundry generating machine.  Anthony spits up so much that I think he creates a load of wash a day all on his own.  He's on Zantac, but it's not helping with the spit up as much as I would like.  This morning at Mass he had such a massive spit up during the Our Father right as we said "Thy will be done" that there was an audible splash and enough dripping off my arm that our friends about seven pews back commented on the dripping spit up after Mass.   Lovely.

That Mass was just a fun-filled 45 minutes of mortification.  Between Katie acting like a two year old, which she is, but she really ramped it up this morning, and Ellie grabbing Katie by the head during a novena to move her out of the way, along with Anthony's excessive spitting up, I was ready to go crawl into a hole and stay there for the rest of the day.

Later in the day the dog decided to get stuck under the shed.  If it were left to me, I would have just let him try to figure out how to get unstuck on his own, but Bryan and the girls are much nicer to him than I am.  It took Bryan a little while but he rescued the dog who then tried to go right back under the shed again.  I imagine there must be something under there that has him very interested.

This Friday the girls will wrap up their third week of school.  We're 1/12 of the way through the school year!  So far it's going well.  They're getting everything done for the most part.  I decided to just have the girls work off the lesson plans that Seton sent us rather than copy them into an excel spreadsheet for the week.  I like it better this way, but Madeline doesn't.  This way makes it harder for her to ignore the details that don't fit on the spreadsheet.

Soccer has one again taken over.  Two nights a week the girls and Bryan go off to soccer practice while I stay home with Katie and Anthony.  Being alone with the two little ones at the end of a long day can be exhausting.  I've seen more Sofia the First, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and Cinderella than I care to remember.  I've also read Katie's favorite Tomie DePaola books to the point that even the newer ones we're recently added are almost memorized by me.  I have quite the collection of children's books memorized.  Too bad I can't use that awesome mom skill to remember what we need to buy at Target or the grocery store!

I think it's possible that me eating dairy foods may be making Anthony's reflux worse.  I've been noticing that when I eat a lot of dairy that he spits up a lot more than on the days when I haven't, particularly a day or two after not having much or any diary.  So, of course, after noticing this yesterday I sat down and had Tostitos and sour cream--a lot of sour cream.  Today I spent all day wiping up copious amounts of cheesy spit up.  So I'm going to try going dairy free for a few days to see if there's a change.  I really don't want to have to possibly eliminate dairy, but I'd like him to not be spitting up all the time.  So if I must, I'll stop eating it.  I'll just have to figure out what to eat instead if diary does turn out to be the culprit.

Is it bad that Anthony will be four months old in eleven days and I still haven't ordered birth announcements?  I sent them out for the girls but just never got around to doing them for Anthony.  I feel like it might be silly to send them out now, but at the same time I hate to not have a birth announcement for him when I had one for each of his sisters.

That's pretty much the nickel tour of what's been going on around here.  Nothing spectacular, just regular everyday craziness.

Quick Takes Baby Cuteness and Soccer

~1~

Last week at his 2 month well visit my adorable little fat man weighed in at 12lbs 11oz.  I think most of that weight is situated in those squishy chubby cheeks and his little second chin.

~2~

Seriously, look at how big those cheeks are!  They're so big they wound up taking over another quick take!

~3~

I'm hardly ever in any pictures with any of the kids so I had Bryan take a few of me with Anthony the other day.  Of the ones he took I liked this one the best.  Since my kids like to steal my blog photos all of the time (they don't care when I point out the copyright notice on the sidebar of the blog) this is one they can use when I die and they're putting together one of those photo memory boards.  Got it Madeline?

~4~

Anthony's been exhibiting some pretty good head control lately and is getting a bit tired of his swing, playmat, bouncy seat and boppy pillow.  So we added a little variety and put together the bouncy entertainer thing I got as a review product a while back.  He can't bounce and jump in it yet or even reach the toys but he seems to like just sitting there and taking in the sights.

~5~

My older girls are at a Team First Soccer Academy this week so I had a rare 45 minutes of quiet yesterday while Katie and Anthony napped at the same time (Woot!).  I took advantage of that time and finished up reading a advance copy of Fearless, which I really enjoyed.  With two pages left of the book I heard Anthony stirring and decided that since he wasn't crying I had time to finish reading.  Umm, yeah.  See how he's on his belly in the above picture?  That's not how he was sleeping.  So while I finished reading about St. Katharine Drexel, this little guy decided to roll from back to front and rotate his body 90 degrees when I wasn't watching.  Arrgh!  Little Man, don't you know that you aren't supposed to hit milestones when Mommy isn't watching?!

~6~

Today was picture day at Team First Soccer Academy.  The ladies in the red shirts are soccer legends Mia Hamm, Kristine Lilly and Tish Hoch.  The girls are having a great time at the camp and so is Bryan who is one of the volunteer coaches.

~7~

Katie's too little for this soccer camp, but she really wanted to be in a picture.  Who knows, maybe when she's older our soccer club will host this camp again.

Tea for Two

I've been going through pictures from the past two months these past few days and I'm coming across some here and there that I can't help but share.  When Anthony was just shy of two weeks old Katie was warming up to the idea of having a new baby in the house, but she really wanted to be able to play with him.  Not content to wait for Anthony to grow up a little bit she decided that she would help him play.  So she set up her little tea set and had a tea party with Anthony.  She even helped him drink a pretend cup of tea.  I'm so glad I grabbed my camera to document his first tea party.

Anthony's Baptism

On the feast day of St. Anthony of Padua our little Anthony was baptized.  The morning of the baptism Anthony and I went to Mass where his Godfather pointed him out to everyone present and announced that today was the most important day of his entire life.  After Mass he had lots of well wishers come up to him.  The fact that he was being baptized on the feast day of his patron saint has earned him the nick name "Saint Anthony" from several of the daily Mass goers.

The baptism that afternoon was beautiful.  Anthony was baptized by our friend Deacon Al, who also baptized Katie.  He was happy to do a private baptism for us yet again.  Just like all of our other children, Anthony didn't make a single peep during the Baptism rite.  In fact, he slept through the whole thing just like Madeline and Katie did.

I think it's safe to say that both of Anthony's Godparents are quite taken with him.  It is my hope that they will both be an amazing example to him as he grows.

I'm not sure if I mentioned in my lack of blogging that Katie has had her moments where she isn't necessarily thrilled to be a big sister at times.  For the most part, she's very happy with her little brother, but in those moments where he seems to be the center of attention she makes her displeasure known.  As soon as she realized that this was a big deal centered around Anthony she had a bit of a meltdown.  It didn't help that she hadn't had a good nap beforehand, nor did it help that I forgot to bring a sippy cup or pacifier for her to the Baptism.  She cried, she sobbed, she threw herself dramatically at the foot of the paschal candle and laid there like her life was over.  I was not amused by her behavior and neither was Bryan but apparently others found the display amusing.  

After the party we had following the Baptism,  I realized that we never got a family picture at the church.  Part of that had to do with the giant downpour just as we were leaving the church which prevented us from taking pictures outside like we had planned, and part of it was due to the fact that Katie wasn't exactly at her best.

Afterwards we had a party back at the house.  Anthony, who sleeps almost all of the time,  did wake up for some of his party.  I like how he looked pretty excited when it was time for the cake.

I spent the evening after his baptism and the days that followed breathing in that awesome just baptized chrism scent that he had.  There's just nothing better than holding a freshly baptized baby.

God bless you Anthony William Joseph!

Four Kids Will Keep You Busy!

I can't believe that I've only blogged two or three times since Anthony was born on May 1st.  I feel like my blog has been set on the back burner for the longest time.  All I can say is the past eleven months have felt like some of the busiest months of my life.

Things are going well here and I'm continually amazed at how sweet this new little love of mine is.  I can't believe I spent so much time worried that I wouldn't adore this little man as much as I do my girls. I really didn't think I'd have any clue what to do with a little boy but I have to say having a boy baby isn't too different from having a girl other than the obvious differences and the overall absence of whining and crying.  How come nobody told me boys were so easy going?  Anthony is so laid back that I'd be prefectly content to have more just like him.

I have so much I want to blog about so I will hopefully be able to find some time in the next few weeks to fill you in on what we've been up to.  Here are are few highlights.

Madeline completed her first year of homeschooling and she managed to finish up the year a full three weeks before the kids in public school finished.

Ellie will be joining us for school this year.  When I re-enrolled Madeline for 8th grade we also enrolled Ellie for 4th grade.  Can I tell you how excited I am that we're done with the public school?  I know Ellie is excited about homeschooling, too.  She seems to be telling everyone about it.

I think Katie has adjusted to having a little brother for the most part.  She still has moments here and there where she seems jealous but overall she seems content to have a real baby in the house.

Anthony was baptized on the feast day of St. Anthony of Padua.  I couldn't resist having him baptized on the feast day of his patron saint.

VBS took place last week.  How I managed to pull off coordinating VBS this year while pregnant/having just had a baby will remain a mystery.  All I can say is I have some amazing friends and family members who all helped me out tremendously.  Last week was great and I enjoyed seeing all of the kids having a great time.

Anthony had his 2 month well visit last week.  He's growing so fast.  He's 12 lbs 11oz and 23 1/4 inches long.  He's already outgrown some of his 0-3 month outfits and is on the verge of outgrowing the rest.  It's crazy!  Between 6 and 8 weeks old he went from looking like a newborn to looking more like a three month old.

As if having a new baby and running VBS wasn't enough, we also had a birthday party to plan for yesterday.  Ellie turned nine yesterday and we celebrated with a Frozen pool party.  I can't believe she's nine already.  It's amazing how quickly time passes.  It doesn't seem like that long ago that we had just moved into this house and celebrated her second birthday and already she's nine years old.

So I think this wraps up my little highlight tour of what we've been up to this past month and a half.   I hope to be able to put together a post about Anthony's baptism and Ellie's Frozen party later this week.  I have a lot of pictures to share and I was so pleased with how well Ellie's party came together that I need to tell you how easily everything came together and why I'm convinced that I must get a die cut machine. (Hint: Look at the snowflake decorations in the background of each of the birthday pictures.)

No Way, Jose!

Life has certainly been exicting around here lately.  With a newborn, a two year old and two kids involved in soccer and other extracurricular things the past month has really gone by in a flash.  Can you belive that Anthony is already a month old?  It seems like it wasn't all that long ago that I was wondering when he'd be born and yet at the same time it feels like he's been with us for such a long time.

I've plunged into life with a double stroller and two children riding in harnessed car seats.  This was previously uncharted territory for me.  So far this has gone smoothly and I've gone out to stores several times now just me and the little ones and things have gone smoothly.  I certainly getting the hang of this, although I'm still not a fan of double strollers and I am still not used to going to the other side of the van to get Katie bucked into her seat.  For nearly 9 years the drivers side of the car has been the only spot where I helped a younger child get in and out of a car seat so this is taking some getting used to without question.

I do feel like I'm in constant demand anymore.  I'll put the baby down to help someone with something and think that I'm good to sit down and hold my cute little man only to pick him up and have someone else need me for something else.  Some days I feel like I should have one of those ticket machines where the kids can take a number and I'll process their needs and requests in the order in which they are received.  Of course, that won't really work.  There are last second rushes to the potty for Katie, and when the baby cries that typically trumps helping someone find a missing pair of rec specs or whatever the missing item of the moment happens to be.

It's funny how the weeks when I look at my planner and see that we don't have much going on turn out to be some of the busiest weeks even if they don't look like it on paper.  This week is turning out like that.  It all started when I retreived the mail from the mailbox on Monday.  I was hit with a wave of panic and disbelief when I saw Anthony's Social Security card as I flipped through the mail.  Anthony William Jose....  What?!  Jose?  I freaked out, tried to figure out how this happened and then wondered if my last minute add-on middle name was a bad decision.  Then I decided to google just how many characters would fit on a Social Security card to see if this was something that could be fixed.  Turns out you have 26 spaces for first and middle names on the top line and 26 spaces for a last name on the bottom line.  So I called Social Security to find out why Anthony's name which is 22 characters, including spacing between names, didn't fit on the top line.  I wasn't prepared to be told that his second middle name on record with Social Security was Jose and not Joseph.  So while I freaked out and panicked on the inside I asked how we could get this corrected and was told that I needed to visit the local SSA office and just show them his birth certificate.  Easy enough, right?  Of course not.  These things are never that easy.

Tuesday I gathered up Anthony and Katie and Anthony's birth certificate and headed to the SSA office.  I get there and find a packed waiting room.  28 people were sitting in the waiting area and all were interspersed in such a way that I wasn't going to be sitting on an end next to my train like double stroller.  Yay double strollers!  Mercifully my whiney prayer to make this wait go quickly were answered three minutes later when our number got called.  Woot!  I sit down and explain the situation to the woman behind the thick bullet proof glass and shove the birth certificate and Social Security card with the wrong name through the slot.  And then she tells me I don't have enough proof to have his name changed and what other ID do I have to show his legal name.  Are you freaking kidding me?!  He's thirty some odd days old.  He has no other ID.  I think our dog has more ID than he does.  So after she went and checked with a supervisor she came back to tell me that I need a letter from either the hospital, the people who got me into this mess, or his doctor stating his date of birth and legal name.  Sigh.  I was seething as I left the SSA office.

I ended up calling the pediatrician and was initally told they didn't think they could help me since his middle names weren't on his immunization records even though I had them on all the paper work I had to fill out when we brought him in for his first visit.  I guess I filled those forms out for fun and nothing else.  After explaining the situation to the head nurse she agreed to write a letter but needed me to bring his birth certificate to the office so she could verify that his name was what I was claiming.  Fair enough, but I didn't like that she initially told me that the wrong name was probably because I didn't fill the form out correctly or legibly.  No, I made sure I spelled Joseph correctly and very legibly so there could be no mix-ups.

My second trip to the SSA office was colorful.  This time I had Ellie and Anthony with me since Ellie had a half day and I picked her up from school, ran to get the letter from the doctor and headed back to SSA trying to make sure we were there before they closed.  My heart sank when I checked in and found that we had at least seven people who were there for SS card business ahead of us.  So for close to forty minutes we sat waiting.  The man behind me let out an almost constant stream of profanity the entire time we sat waiting.  So awesome since he had my eight year old feet away from him.  Thanks, profanity man for dropping the F-bomb more times than one might hear it in Pulp Fiction or an episode of Deadwood.  You made my SSA experience complete.  Once our number was finally called I went back with two forms of ID for Anthony, and his incorrect SS card.  Right away I was told that his name was just too long to fit and there was no problem.  So I had to explain that the rep I spoke to on the phone said his name was Anthony William Jose and not Anthony William Joseph.  They weren't convinced.  So then I showed them the print out from the SSA website stating that 26 spaces are available on each line.  The baby's first and middle names is only 22 characters and spaces.  So they agreed to see if they could get his name to fit.  That's when I realized that the woman who was typing up all the info to correct his name was blind.  I had initally wondered why she had someone helping her.  I just figured she was new on the job.  Once I noticed the braille typewriter thing (I once had to read off the history notes to a blind class mate so I recognized the machine) and then this neat little light up braille device connected to the computer. (Don't ask me why it lights up since it seems pointless to me if the user can't see the lights.  Just another one of those bizarre details that probably only I notice and then wonder why it's that way.)  In the end the ladies got everything corrected and our little Jose was officially a Joseph.  Never a dull moment around here.

I am relieved that we have that all straighened out, but I will feel much better once his Social Security card gets here and I see his entire name on the card.  If you have children to name, view this as a cautionary tale and make sure your child's name fits within the 26 space limit.  I honestly never even thought about how two middle names might impact legal documents.  Then again, the second middle name was an eleventh hour add-on.

Anthony's Birth Story

Before even writing anything down, I'm going to speculate that Anthony's birth story is probably the shortest one to tell out of all four of my children.  I had spent months wondering, as each Friday moved us a week closer to my due date, whether he would arrive early or late.  Delivering a baby a week past the due date after having two come two weeks early can make control freaks like myself go batty when speculating when the baby might come.  I had pretty much resigned myself to the idea that Anthony probably wasn't going to arrive early, but I still was hoping he would arrive mid-week and early enough in the day to be seen by the pediatrician the same day in order to facilitate us getting out of the hospital after just one day.  

Starting on Tuesday (April 29th) I started noticing that I was having a lot of contractions.  They didn't hurt and I figured they were just Braxton Hicks contractions.  Certainly nothing to worry about.  With the first three pregnacies I pretty much had Braxton Hicks contractions from about 16-20 weeks until I delivered.  This time around I seldom had any contractions of this sort which had me even further convinced that Anthony wasn't in any rush to make an entrance.  So Tuesday and Wednesday were just filled with lots of contractions most of which were relatively close.  Tuesday night I had a few hours late at night where I thought I was close to being in labor, but it was late and I WAS NOT going to be delivering a baby in the middle of the night when I was already feeling pretty tired so I stopped my crazy nesting and decided to lay on the couch and catch some sleep.  I was also determined to not have a baby on Wednesday since it was my brother's birthday.  Wednesday was the day when I decided that maybe, just maybe, it might be a good idea to set up the pack and plays in the family room and our bedroom.  I figured it would be a good idea if I made sure I had some things ready in the event that I had the baby sooner rather than later.  Let's just say it was a really good thing that I decided to get things set up on Wednesday.  But, I still hadn't finished packing that bag for the hospital.  I wasn't that convinced that labor was imminent.

I fell asleep on the couch on Wednesday night and when I woke up it was a bit past midnight.  I was pretty excited that it was now May since I've wanted to have a May baby since Bryan and I got married.  And then it occured to me that today [May 1st] was the feast of St. Joseph the worker so I asked for his intercession for a speedy labor and safe delivery of the baby.  All I can say is St. Joseph works fast.  I woke up about 3:15AM and had this crampy feeling that reminded me of when labor began with Katie.  Within minutes I noticed another sign that I was likely in labor, but I didn't want to wake Bryan until I was sure, otherwise he'd be carting me off to the hospital before I could straighten up the house and finish packing my bag for the hospital.

After a few minutes of cleaning up the kitchen as quitely as I could, I noticed that the contractions seemed like they were close.  I've never been the one to time contractions so I wasn't sure what to do so I grabbed my phone, a pen and a pad of post-it notes and started writing down the time each contraction began.  After had about six of them I took a look to see how often they were happening.  They were all between 2-4 minutes apart.  Hmm....the week before my doctor told me to call them when they were 5-7 minutes apart and to head into the hospital at that point.  I was beyond that so I did what any laboring woman who really wasn't in much pain would do, I ran around cleaning the house, packing my bag, going up and down the stairs all while logging contractions with my pad of post-it notes.  A little before 4:30 I had everything done that I felt had to be done so I woke Bryan and told him that I was in labor and thought we might want to head out to the hospital soon.

Our neighbor who said she'd come over to stay with the girls if I went into labor in the middle of the night didn't answer her phone, so we woke Madeline and told her that she needed to hang out in the family room and stay awake until my father-in-law got to the house.  Then Bryan called the answering service for the doctor.  The on-call doctor didn't call back which had us a little worried.  Bryan called a second time while we were on our way to the hospital and we didn't hear from him until we were checking in at the triage.

The ride over to the hosptial wasn't too bad.  There were a few times where I had to tell Bryan to drive slow over the stretches of the road that I knew had potholes and anytime a light was near I was telling him that he better not stop short since I was convinced that stopping short might mean that the baby would be born in the car.  I will say this was the least stressful ride I ever had while in labor.

We got to the hospital at 5:00AM.  The woman who handled the registration or whatever the check in process was at the OB triage was painfully slow and apparently oblivious to the fact that I was having contractions.  She kept asking me questions that Bryan was fully capable of answering and I was bewildered as to why she wasn't just talking to him but I was too focused on riding out the contractions to say anything to her.  At 5:05 the on-call doctor called Bryan and he let him know that we were at the hospital already.  Less than a minute after I got buzzed into the triage floor the midwife who was observing me from behind the counter while we checked in insisted on checking to see how much I was dilated since she was pretty sure I was close to delivering.  I was at 8CM and the refused to let me walk up to the labor and delivery unit.  They said something about not liking to have babies born in the elevator.  Since my doctor hadn't arrived yet, the midwife was sticking around in case the baby was born before he got there.

Once I got up to the labor and delivery unit they got me set up with a birthing ball since that seemed to help me a lot when I was in labor with Katie.  I wasn't sure how long I'd be laboring and I kept thinking that sooner or later the contractions were going to become very painful.  I had a few that were pretty uncomfortable but hadn't had too many where I started to get that panicked feeling that I've had with some of the more painful ones in the past.   I was up in the labor and delivery room for less than half an hour when I told them that I needed to push.  They hadn't even gotten through all of the questions they ask when you've been admitted and I don't even think I had been hooked up to the monitors for very long.  I was really surprised at how quickly they sprung into action.  With Katie they actually doubted me when I told them it was time, but these nurses and my doctor who had literally just shown up didn't second guess me at all.  I guess when it's baby number four they don't second guess you when you tell them it's time.  They confirmed that I was fully dilated and told me to push whenever I was ready.  I did let them break my water just before I started pushing and we found out there was meconium in the water which meant they need to get a special team of pediatric nurses in the room in case the baby didn't cry right away.  After three minutes of pushing Anthony was born.  At one point I actually had to ask if his head was delivered because I had no idea how much longer this was going to take.  It may have only been a few minutes, but it felt longer than that.  Once the baby was out he cried right away so the special team of nurses that were brought in for him were satisfied that he was ok.

Anthony weighed in at 7lbs 8oz and was 20 1/2 inches long.  He's my second biggest baby.  This was my fastest labor and delivery.  I was in labor for under three hours.  I'm still amazed at how quickly everything happened.  I had been hoping and praying that this would be a quick labor but I never dreamed it would be this quick or as easy as it was.  I think just staying as relaxed as I did helped tremendously.  Everytime I got hit with a contraction I just tried to relax and pray my way through it. 

Anthony's face was pretty bruised up from the delivery.  He actually looked a bit blue when he was born.  It was bad enough that the nurses placed a sign on his bassinet stating that his face was bruised.  They told us that if we were to take him out into the hallway that nurses who might see him would think that he was blue from lack of oxygen if they didn't know he was bruised from the delivery.  The poor little guy was very puffy and swollen the first day.  The doctors and the nurses all told me that the bruising was attributed to his rapid delivery.  

Bryan told me after the fact that he pretty much was freaking out on the inside that I gave him so little time to work with in getting me to the hospital on time.  I think he should be happy that I decided to wake him when I did because I had contemplated waiting until after 5 to wake him, but I decided after having a few contractions that were a bit strong that I should wake him.  I suspect if I had waited that the baby might not have been born at the hospital.  

Because he was born on the feast of St. Joseph the Worker and I had asked for his intercession, I told Bryan that I wanted to add a second middle name for Anthony.  Despite all our trouble deciding on just the right name for our son, he was good with my last minute name change.  And that's the short and sweet story of how he came to be named Anthony William Joseph.