How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Cry Room

I was so smug. My super easy infant, my dapper husband and I, attending the Extraordinary form of the Mass, raising eyebrows at those who couldn't wrangle their children into pious submission. Raising our eyebrows even higher at those who brought their children to the Novus Ordo Mass and allowed them to scamper around on the pews, dropping Cheerios and ripping hymnals with wild abandon. "We won't suffer OUR child to behave in such a barbarous way! And we certainly won't bribe with food!".

Hahaha...
Hahahahahahahahahaha!!

Ha.

That was before we had a 3 year old and a 2 month old. That's before our son raised the doleful lamentation, "NO CHURCH!", and wept during the entire drive - and attempted to escape throughout Mass.

He knows it's coming when I start styling my hair. Because I NEVER style my hair. He sees me get out my fancy clothes and cries of, "no church!" begin. I try to tell him that Jesus is going to give himself to us in the Eucharist and it is a small sacrifice to spend a couple hours in church when Christ DIED for us. Yeah, that line of reasoning has been shockingly unsuccessful.

So you know what I did this past Sunday? I went to what I've snarkily called EZ-Mass at my local parish. While the Latin Mass is held in a small, historic church with creaky wood floors and questionable air conditioning, the Novus Ordo is held in the ginormous church down the street, replete with a CRY ROOM! The place incompetent parents take their snot-nosed monsters with their noisy toys and Cheerios, right? Wrong. As usual, I am so so wrong.

This particular cry room is huge, has a wall full of wooden rocking chairs, an en suite bathroom with a baby changing table, an adjustable volume control so you can actually hear the Mass, and flat screen TVs that show everything going on up at the altar.

It isn't a place for bad parents or bad kids. It isn't a place where couples who are - hello - fulfilling their wedding vows by being fruitful are sequestered with their ugly spawn. It is a courtesy and a luxury this parish has been able to afford. It allows parents to bring their whole family to Mass and pray in comfort while their kids behave like, well, kids. Cheerios are ok. Quiet toys are fine. And wiggling and strolling around? That's cool, nobody is judging you in here.

This is my new little haven for this season of parenthood, and I humbly admit that I was wrong about the cry room.

I've got my Cheerios packed for next week.

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