Seeing Babywearing as the Norm

Just before leaving for Mass I find myself tying a sarong on my son like a wrap sling so he can carry Duckling on his back.  How did this happen?  Well, with minutes to go before we have to leave for Mass and amazing the kids and I are all dressed and ready to go when Kieran says he needs to put Duckling on his back.  Since we're running ahead of schedule (meaning we're not rushing out the door at breakneck speed so we're not late), I find myself running upstairs to try to find something that can be used as a sling.  My first thought was to grab one of the many decorative scarves I have, but then my eyes fell on the sarong I'd gotten on our honeymoon in the Bahamas.

"Perfect!" I told myself, as I rushed back down the stairs to help Kieran with it.  It's been a long time since I've tried to use the Kari-Me wrap (pretty much like a Moby wrap, for my US readers) on my back, but I thought I remembered enough to quickly strap Duckling on Kieran's back.  Thankfully Duckling is rather light, and not alive, so it really didn't matter if it was well supported.  My first attempt didn't look quite the way it should, but by that time we were in a hurry so I left it.  I didn't get a photo of the second attempt, which was much better.  Once I got Duckling strapped on, we headed to Mass like this:

Kieran was very happy having his Duckling on his back like that, and I was thrilled that my children see babywearing as the norm.  I've actually worn Kieran on my back in the mei tai fairly recently, and I frequently wear Charlotte, either on my back in the mei tai or on my hip with the Kari-Me folded like a sling.  She's a bit too big for a front carry these days.  Children imitate what they see and know, and obviously for my children that's babywearing.

Kids and the Eucharist

A conversation heard today:

Charlotte: Water! (she'd gotten Kieran's cup of water).  [Blood of] Christ!
Kieran: No, not Christ.  Water.
Charlotte: Water!
Kieran: Yes.

Later, we went to Mass.  As I was receiving the Precious Blood, Charlotte exclaimed "Christ!"  I love it.

Children in Mass

Lately I find myself wondering why it's so difficult for others to believe that my children want to go to Mass.  I do not make them go to daily Mass - they ask to go.  Do they stay completely still during Mass?  Of course not.  I expect Kieran not to climb around and not to be loud, but I don't expect him to be silent or completely still.  I expect Charlotte not to be loud and not to run off, which means I have to keep a hand on her.  Both of them get a little restless during the Liturgy of the Word, but both of them are rather more entranced during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, with both of them pointing out the Body and Blood of Christ at the Consecration.  I'm proud of them, and frankly I think they put me to shame at times.

Yet some people just can't seem to imagine that they truly want to be there.  A couple of weeks ago we went to Mass at a different time because we just hadn't gotten ready in time for our usual 8.00 Mass.  We went to the "family Mass", which normally has a children's liturgy where the children are dismissed after the opening prayer and return just before the Liturgy of the Eucharist.  I object to the family being separated during Mass in this way, so my children don't go.  I explain to them that Mass isn't about running around, but about praying and worshipping.  Besides all that, though, is the fact that they want to stay in Mass.  Kieran considers it to be a consequence if he isn't in there.  He wants to be in there "to see Jesus".  Yes, the other children come back in for part of the Mass, but I still don't think it's the ideal.  After that Mass, though, a lady who helps with the children's liturgy mentioned that they could go to that, as if it was just mind-boggling to think they'd want to stay in Mass (or that I'd want them to stay in with me).

This happened again last week; we'd gone to the 8.00 Mass, but we'd gone back for a social event after the 9.30 family Mass.  When I explained that we go to 8.00 Mass, the other lady seemed to assume that I didn't know about the family Mass and the children's liturgy and that I'd surely go to that Mass so I could send my children to the children's liturgy during Mass.  I'll admit that I can't concentrate as much at Mass when I'm trying to ensure the children aren't running around and are being quiet, but I'm still not going to send them to a different liturgy.  When I go to Mass I tell Jesus that I'm there, but I don't know how much of my attention I can offer.  I tell Him that I offer all of myself, such as I am.  Some days go better than others in that regard.  I actually spoke with one of our priests about this, about how I feel bad about not being able to concentrate as much but that I also feel it important that the kids go, and they like to go.  He affirmed that it is important for them to be there with me, and told me to mention Jesus' words about the children coming to Him if anyone criticised me.  I love that priest.

As I mentioned, we go to daily Mass most mornings.  Kieran asks to go, and they kids expect it.  There's a tin of sweeties in the sacristy, but I've explained to Kieran that those are only for Sundays (technically, they're only for the altar servers, but some of the priests include Kieran in getting a sweet).  While the priests would also give him one during the week, I don't want him to go to Mass to get a sweet.  I've talked about it with Kieran, and he understands this, though he does sometimes see if he can get away with getting some chocolate anyway.  One day a well-meaning older lady asked if he'd had his sweet yet just as we were about to leave.  I said that he didn't need one today, and she took his hand anyway and got one for him.  As she did so, she talked about how he deserved one for coming to Mass.  Again there was that assumption that I was making him come to Mass with me.  If he didn't want to go, he could stay home, since my husband doesn't usually leave before we get back.  In fact, he has done that before, though he was later disappointed when he realised it meant he didn't get to go to Mass that day (I think he'd thought he could go later; there are usually two Masses a day at our parish, but there was only one on that day).

Why is it so hard to believe that children want to come to Mass just to come to Mass, and not to play games or get chocolate?

Kieran's Mass Commentary

During Mass today, Kieran seemed to want to give a running commentary of things.  The commentary part started at the end of the bidding prayers, when we're instructed to pray silently.  Well, he very loudly proclaimed "I pray! I pray!".

It is at the Consecration and afterwards that he gives the most commentary, though, and today was no exception.  He kept proclaiming about how the Body of Christ was there.  At the ringing of the bells at the Elevation, he exclaimed "Uh oh, it's Jesus!" while I tried not to laugh.  When an EMHC went to get the ciborium, Kieran was there to let everyone know the EMHC was getting the Body of Christ.  I have to admit that I'm amused by his commentary and proud of him for his faith and knowledge, though maybe I should be better at reminding him to whisper, while letting him know he can still be excited by what's happening.  And really, we should be excited by the Mass, if we think about what's happening.  It's truly amazing to be present with Jesus in that way.

On Veiling

Seeing all the polls and discussions on women veiling in the Presence of the Blessed Sacrament, I thought I'd weigh in with my thoughts.  I started veiling when K was little.  I was quite nervous at first, since most women at the parish don't veil, and I didn't want to be seen as trying to be holier-than-thou.  I chose to do it for various reasons, such as St Paul's exhortation to women, and humbling myself in the Presence of my Saviour.  This is what St Paul says about it in 1 Corinthians 11:1-16 (New Jerusalem Bible):
Take me as your pattern, just as I take Christ for mine.
2 I congratulate you for remembering me so consistently and for maintaining the traditions exactly as I passed them on to you.
3 But I should like you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the head of woman is man, and the head of Christ is God.
4 For any man to pray or to prophesy with his head covered shows disrespect for his head.
5 And for a woman to pray or prophesy with her head uncovered shows disrespect for her head; it is exactly the same as if she had her hair shaved off.
6 Indeed, if a woman does go without a veil, she should have her hair cut off too; but if it is a shameful thing for a woman to have her hair cut off or shaved off, then she should wear a veil.
7 But for a man it is not right to have his head covered, since he is the image of God and reflects God's glory; but woman is the reflection of man's glory.
8 For man did not come from woman; no, woman came from man;
9 nor was man created for the sake of woman, but woman for the sake of man:
10 and this is why it is right for a woman to wear on her head a sign of the authority over her, because of the angels.
11 However, in the Lord, though woman is nothing without man, man is nothing without woman;
12 and though woman came from man, so does every man come from a woman, and everything comes from God.
13 Decide for yourselves: does it seem fitting that a woman should pray to God without a veil?
14 Does not nature itself teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a disgrace to him,
15 but when a woman has long hair, it is her glory? After all, her hair was given to her to be a covering.
16 If anyone wants to be contentious, I say that we have no such custom, nor do any of the churches of God.

I tend to wear a headscarf or a mantilla tied behind my head (rarely I'll leave it down), though sometimes I wear a hat.  Basically, I don't do anything fancy, and I usually make sure my children can't easily pull on it.  I often tie my scarf in styles found on Tznius.  I think it a beautiful tradition that ought to be encouraged, or at least made known as an option, so those who wish to veil can do so without criticism (thankfully I've not encountered much criticism).

Having come to these conclusions, I then wondered how I'd handle it when we learnt we were having a girl.  Should I have her cover her head, or wait to see if she chose it herself?  In both cases, obviously, I'd teach her why I veiled.  I spoke with a friend who veils and has a daughter, and she said she explained it to her daughter by saying that it's something that Christians do.  I thought about that, and then decided that once C was baptised, she would wear a headcovering at Mass as well.  She often takes it off halfway through, and I'll just put it back on her.  If she repeatedly does it, I try to leave it and not make a fuss, since it seems silly to be distracted by it.  The bigger problem is the fact that C likes to run away and/or crawl under pews now.  Silly girl.

Reverence

On Sunday morning, as we were at Mass, I was trying to direct K to pay attention to what was happening on the altar, to recognise and show reverence for our Lord in the Eucharist.  I didn't do much, just pointed out to him that Jesus was on the altar, which usually has the effect of reminding him to pay attention.  This time, though, as I was telling him this, I was thinking about the amount of reverence shown, or not.  I was telling him that Jesus was there, but then had to ask myself if I was behaving in a way that showed the reality of what was happening, and I don't think I was.

I have a hard time sometimes staying focused, not getting irritated, and generally showing the reverence due my Saviour when I'm at Mass, either because I'm trying to make sure the kids are okay and not getting into trouble, or because I start focusing on others who are talking or whatnot.  While I do think there needs to be more reverence shown in general, I can't change what other people do or don't do, and I need to stop paying attention to that.  What I can do is ensure that I am showing the proper reverence to my Eucharistic Lord, reminding myself of why I'm there.  I also think that my children will be more affected by me giving a positive example than just giving them a few directions and yet not showing the reverence I should.  And I can work on not getting irritated when I'm broken out of my reverie by a kid falling down or squirming or crying.

Perhaps providentially, I just saw this excerpt from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis. Maybe I should re-read that book.

Noah, a good man (Gen 6:9), is said to have worked a hundred years to build the ark, so that he and a few others might be saved (I Pet 3:20.). How, then, can I in one short hour prepare myself to receive with reverence the Creator of the world? Moses, Your great servant and especial friend, constructed an Ark of imperishable wood (Exod 25:10), and covered it with purest gold, in order to house the Tablets of the Law:and how shall I, a corruptible creature, dare so lightly to receive You, the Maker of the Law and Giver of life? Solomon, wisest of Israel's kings (I Kings 5:7), spent seven years in building a splendid Temple in praise of Your name. For eight days he kept the Feast of its Dedication, and offered a thousand peace-offerings. To the sound of trumpets, he solemnly and joyfully bore the Ark of the Covenant to its appointed resting-place. How, then, shall I, unworthiest and poorest of men, welcome You into my house (Luke 7:6), when I can hardly spend half an hour devoutly? If only I could spend even half an hour as I ought!

O my God, how earnestly did all these strive to please You! And how little, alas, can I do! How short is the time that I employ in preparing myself for Communion! Seldom am I entirely recollected, and very seldom free from all distraction. Yet in Your saving presence, O God, no unbecoming thought should enter my mind, for it is not an Angel, but the Lord of Angels who comes to be my guest.

Feast Days

Since I wasn't raised Catholic, we obviously didn't celebrate feast days growing up, but it's something I'm trying to do for my children.  Today is my daughter's feast day, and so I'll make some fairy cakes, and we'll go to Mass, and we'll ask for the intercession of her patron Saint.  I think it's a good way to remember that the Church includes those who have gone on before us.  As the kids get older, perhaps I can have them learn more about their patron Saints, so they can serve as holy examples for them, and for all of us.

Knitting Thursday

Not much to report today.  I've finished the back of B's sweater and started on the front.  I did a swatch of the Sherwood sweater to see if I could get away with using Wildflower DK, but I'll have to figure out the math for that, or switch to using the blue aran weight yarn I have.  I'll likely do the latter.  I suppose I could also just do the next size up on the pattern, and that might work.  Maybe I'll do both and make two of them.  Or not.  We'll see.

I also found a cute hat pattern for C.  I'm always on the lookout for nice hats she can wear at Mass.

Children at Mass

I've often gotten in discussions about children being at Mass.  Perhaps it's because I'm a convert, but I feel very strongly about going to Mass as a family.  I used to get distracted by children at Mass and wonder why the parents didn't control them better, but now I understand.  Now I love hearing children at Mass, because that means the parish isn't dying.  I love hearing children at Mass, because Jesus said to let the little children come to Him.

When K was quite young, I began taking him to daily Mass on occasion.  Not regularly, but when I could.  Obviously he also went with us on Sundays, and I decided not to take him to the children's liturgy.  Just before he turned 1, we moved to a different area, one within easy walking distance of a Benedictine parish with Mass twice a day during the week.  Once Lent rolled around, I made it a point to go to Mass every day, which means he went, too.  At first we sat in the back, but I found that he did better in the front.  In fact, Fr Theo scolded me when I didn't sit in the front, because he thought K should see the altar.  I'm glad I listened, because the Mass captivates him.  Oh sure, he's not perfect, but during the Liturgy of the Eucharist, you're likely to hear him exclaim "Body of Christ!" with the priest.  His faith is amazing, and seeing the Mass through his eyes is precious to me.

Of course, there are also off days, like the one where C was standing, holding onto the pew, and fell, hitting her head and wailing during the Gospel and homily.  That same Mass, K kept shushing loudly during the readings.  When he was younger, he sometimes escaped from me and ran to the altar; this was more common if it was a priest he hadn't seen in a while.  And the other day C tried to crawl under the pew towards the altar and protested when I pulled her away.  So it's not perfect, and there are times when I long to have a Mass where I don't have to watch them and can just gaze upon the Tabernacle, but at the same time, I love having the kids with me.  While they may distract at times, they can also remind me why I'm there, as when K asks to pray for someone or exclaims about the Body and Blood of Christ during the Eucharist.  I love that they're with us the entire time at Mass.