We all made it to Mass after all.
I feel guilty, because I cannot *stand* it when people bring their sick kids out in public -- I understand that sometimes it simply cannot be helped, but otherwise, PLEASE keep them home so they don't contaminate the rest of us! We don't enjoy being sick any more than you do!
That being said, the big hypocrite here took her kids to Mass.
I would like to justify all this by assuming that, after 10 days of this, we've basically passed the "contagious" stage (please, Lord...). And I *will* say that the doctor said after the fever was gone, they'd be contagious for maybe 3 days... so, perhaps those around us will forgive us when they see that they did not contract the disease that was obviously afflicting the family in the front row!
Our kids were such troopers.
This illness basically makes them extremely sleepy, and they've been tired and cranky all week... crying at the drop of a hat kind of cranky. Therefore, we gave them the usual "pre-Mass pep talk," with an extra plea for them to do their best to look cheerful.
They went above and beyond all expectations.
They sat still (which is usual, but with them being sick, I wasn't too sure if they could pull this one off), stayed awake (another biggie, since they were all so tired... and it was our normal 8 AM Mass to boot), and DID NOT FUSS. Oh, thank God!
Did I say they didn't fuss? Well, let me rephrase that.
Everyone was good... except Marie.
She has about 30 min. allotment for sitting still. After that, I usually have to take her out and spend the rest of the time in the lobby or the cry room. The rule is, she has to stay in my arms until Mass is over -- tough at this stage, to be sure, but it's trained all of our kids that Mass is not the time to get down, roll on the floor, etc etc etc.
That rule was broken today. I literally could NOT hold her.
Since we got there 30 min. early for Mass, she was maxed out before the procession even started.
I knew I was in trouble. Big trouble.
She morphed into this crazed, super-strong octopus that was able to wriggle out of any hold I tried to put her in.
By the second reading, I was exhausted.
By the offertory, I was ready to sell her to any gypsy caravan that happened to drive by.
She survived -- and managed to avoid sale -- but just barely.
When we got back into the van, all the other kids said that they felt so much better. Sean and Reilly suggested that perhaps the grace they received from Communion healed them. Perhaps so -- they've been able to function quite fine this morning, so I think they were right!
And now, we have a sea of wrappers and Easter grass all over the floor. The kids have hidden, and re-hidden, the plastic eggs they found this morning during the hunt that Daddy set up for them... and a sugar-glazed sense of normalcy and well-being has settled over the house. In a few minutes I'll be putting Marie down for a nap, and then I'll put the lamb and potatoes in the oven, make some rolls, and get ready for a wonderfully festive Easter dinner.
May your day be blessed!
He is risen! Alleluia!