Sundays With Jack

Let me begin by setting the scene for you...


10:00 am Mass. A beautiful cathedral that is filled from pew to pew. Jack dressed in his Sunday best--button up, sweater vest, and cords. A quiet peaceful congregation. The Cibula's are front row, to the right of the pulpit facing in where everyone can see and, more importantly, hear us.






And now we will begin with a few of Jack's antics...

• trying to climb on and over the pews
  
• chanting "no..., hmmm....no,....no" as he inspects the contents of his snack cup and removes any and everything in there that he doesn't like and subtly throws it on the floor


• using his outside voice to tell me he is "all done" with his juice


• using his outside voice, once again, to announce "bye bye chuwch" over and over again, while waving at the pulpit during the Priests homily (sermon)


• digging in with two hands to grab a piece of communion bread--this one almost gave the Eucharistic Minister (the guy handing out the communion) a heart attack


• waving and chanting, with his outside voice once again, "hi" as every parishioner walked by after receiving their communion

So, what did we do? Naturally, we threatened him with the nursery. "Jack do you want to go to the nursery and play with the children?' And what did we get, a very exaggerated, "shhhh (with his finger pressed to his lips) chuwch", "sit sit sit Mommy Daddy". Which translates as, "Ill be quiet in church, I want to sit with Mommy and Daddy'.

Hmm...what to do? I know, the obvious answer is to put him in the nursery. But, when we joined our new church, I just couldn't stand to put him in the there. We had a new house, he was in a new school (twice), and then a new church nursery on top of all that. Plus there is always that one sick kid in there...ugh! Oh well, hind sight is 20/20. It looks like we (I) have created an anti-nursery toddler that is going to be sitting next to me in the pew for many years to come.

The upside is our Monsignor prefers for the children to attend Mass over being in the nursery. His theory is memories of being in church with family will bring them back to the church when they get older...hopefully true. And every Sunday when we leave, people always come up to us and tell us how funny Jack was or how cute he is. Meanwhile, Clay and I are holding our heads down and trying to swoop Jack out before anyone recognizes us. All I know is Sundays with Jack are often the looongest hour of my week. Though, I must admit, this last week I couldn't help but laugh at a few of his antics:)...we've definitely have got a "show man" on our hands, as Daddy often calls him.