Today is Sunday. My very favorite day of the week. I love to pretty all our kids up, pile them all in our super awesome and totally convenient soccer mom minivan (complete with stick people and dogs, we had to buy 3 sets of people to get us all) and file into more or less the same pew, give or take a few feet. I get to look either way and see our beautiful, fidgety children and catch my husband's eye over their heads and share a smile over our joy in these little people we are blessed to have. I love to chat with all the familiar faces as they stop to ooh over the new face in church - Baby Girl. She responds with her usual reaction - sticking out her tongue and yawning. I love to see my siblings straggle in with my pack of nephews, my brothers always wearing a facial expression of half exhaustion and half dread...like they used up all their energy feeding, dressing, and herding the boys there and they know the toddlers are like ticking time bombs now, any wrong touch or whispered word could set them off. And at this point, with this many of us, it really isn't a question of 'if' it will happen. Now it is 'when' and 'who'. When it happens you can see a collective relaxing of all the other siblings as the rest of us all breathe a little easier and say an extra thank you prayer in our heads...."not my child this week, thank you God."
And then, after we attempt to participate with what is happening on the alter as best we can and try and keep an army of children relatively quiet for an hour...we continue family ritual and head to McDonald's for lunch. The one with the good playland. We take over one section with our collection of high chairs and flying chicken nuggets and cries of despair over the total unfairness of having to eat before play. All the suppressed energy and angst of the last hour explodes into a babble of conversation that is usually only understood if you share our last name or marry in. Then all (ok, most) of the nuggets are gone and the kids shoot off into the playground and the men take their drinks and go stand around telling hunting lies and fighting about who's deck is bigger and keep half an eye on the kids.
We did this every Sunday when we were kids and we do this every Sunday now with our kids. And I love seeing this living, breathing testament to the family that my parents created. It is proof that when you invest yourself and your time into family and leave the rest to God...amazing things happen. Now, it sure doesn't feel amazing when Baby Boy is having a fit in the middle of the night or our big kids are stomping mad because we won't give in on one of a thousand daily requests. It is hard work molding kids. But it does on Sunday when I watch out big kids try and follow Mass and when I see out little two making all the little old ladies on church smile and when I see how they all meld seamlessly into the bigger family with all their cousins every week. And it feels amazing when my Mom leans over in the aftermath of lunch as all the men and kids storm the playground and tells me..."you know, you guys really do have such a nice family." Learned from the best, Mom. Amen.
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