Angel or devil? Probably just a toddler...

A few of my direct relatives have already heard my anecdote about taking the bug to Mass this Saturday evening. In St. John's, the cry room is located just to the left of the altar, with large clear windows so that the families within can watch the Mass. Unfortunately last weekend, one of these windows was broken and the glass had been removed, so the soundproofing between the church and room was at best seriously impaired.

The bug was just not that into a happy quiet Church experience. I left her favorite book of the moment in the car, so she howled even before we got into the cry room. Perhaps I should have taken this as the omen it was. I took her out, calmed her down, and got her back into the cry room (albeit rather unhappily) during the opening hymn. The music ended and the priest was beginning the opening prayer when she started yelling, "No God! No God! Outside? Outside?" I tried to shush her, then gave up and started to carry her out again, still yelling "No God! No God!" We crawled over all the people until we got to the end of our row where a mother was breastfeeding her infant. This led to: "No God! No God! [pause of recognition] Nipple! Nipple!"

Oh, how I wish I was kidding.

The priest spluttered and lost his place in the prayer. The entire cry room (roughly 30 people, it was packed!) cracked up. I got her out into the hallway and time-outed her, although I'm not sure I had ever specifically told her she was not to provide sex education for a roomful of adults with small kids. (I figured I could book her on the yelling in church if it came down to technicalities.)

By the Gospel, we were both calm enough to give the cry room one more try. She was reasonably well-behaved for all of ten minutes--read the other books I brought, drank her apple juice, looked through the hymnal, and other acceptable cry room activities. Then when the homily began, she became restless, walked to the end of our row, and headed for the door to the hallway before I could catch her hand. She stopped at the open door and said, "Time out again? Time out, please?" Sigh.

We stood out in the hallway for the rest of Mass. At least I provided copious amusement to my fellow churchgoers even though between the two of us we pretty much denied any opportunities for meditative prayer.

So that was Saturday. Sunday I was feeling under the weather after a long run in preparation for next weekend's Boulder Backroads half-marathon. (I got about 10 miles into a 12-mile training run when my stomach began to disagree with me, but I'm doing much better today, thanks for asking.) I got home from the run just as Matt headed out, and it was time to put the bug down for her nap. I tried to put her down in her crib as usual, but she wanted no part of that. After about ten minutes of yowling, I hauled my carcass out of bed and went in to check on her. She stopped crying immediately and said, "Hug?" I picked her up. She stroked my hair and said, "Poor mama. Sick. Sit chair?" which is her way of directing me to sit in the chair in the corner with her and cuddle. We sat down and fell asleep in the chair together while she patted my head and said, "Care you. Care you."

Yup, I felt pretty taken care of. Maybe she isn't demon spawn after all. :)