The Curmudgeon's guide to attending church as a family

Today is Palm Sunday and, in Catholic churches at least, the Gospel is the entire Passion of Jesus.

That's a long reading.

So it's traditional, at least in my parish, that the congregation remains seated for almost the entire reading. Part of that is to accommodate the old folks who might have trouble standing so long. But I think another reason is for all of us to enjoy sitting because next week the Easter-only Catholics are going to show up and we're going to have to stand though the entire Mass!

Some people avoid church like the plague... but others are skittish about attending, particularly as a family. And one of the biggest reasons for that is the fear that, well, the kids will misbehave. Especially the little ones.

I know I was in this category.

Actually, I was in both of the above categories -- when I was a student at a Catholic university, I told people I didn't attend Mass because I was a Druid -- but, after Older Daughter was born, and when Long Suffering Spouse insisted, we began attending as a family.

Older Daughter wasn't a particularly fussy baby but we didn't want to disturb the old women at prayer, working their Rosaries. They sure looked intimidating to me.

So we tried the "crying room."

This should have been called the Ritalin Room. We were in the very back of the church, watching through a glass window with the sound piped in. It was like watching Mass for Shut-Ins only we had to drive to get there. And the children!

There were children who looked old enough to shave bouncing off the walls and ceiling. I think I got bruised after a couple ricocheted my way a couple times. I was worried Older Daughter might pick up life-long bad habits.

The next time we made the attempt (and it may not have been the very next Sunday) we resolved to sit in the congregation and take our chances.

Now imagine you're in church holding a baby. You're looking straight ahead, but the baby is looking behind you, over your shoulder. And Older Daughter was doing very well, keeping quiet... until the Homily... when all of the sudden she began to gurgle and coo and make happy noises.

I was mortified.

I turned around to see what had gotten Older Daughter going, but all I saw were the tops of old ladies heads, bowed reverently, and fingering their prayer books. (Not even the old ladies necessarily listen to the Homily....)

I looked away... and a few minutes later, the gurgling started up again, rising to a kind of a chatter....

I turned around again... but it was just the tops of heads again... so, deeply puzzled, I jollied Older Daughter back into a quieter mode and went back to my business.

And it started up again! This time I didn't turn around immediately... I let it go on a bit... and then -- quickly whipped around -- and caught the old ladies making faces right out of a Three Stooges movie....

Lesson No. 1: They may look scary and reverent, but the old ladies are all grandmas at heart. And they're Devils! They are trying to jolly your kids. So don't sweat it: Crying babies need to be taken out... but leave the happy babies alone... and make the old ladies happy.

Feel better about trying to come to church now?

We'll see you Sunday. I'll be the old man standing along the wall trying to get your baby to giggle....