Kids at Mass: It Can Be Done!

We get compliments a lot after Mass.  Our kids are really well behaved in church.  It has been known to happen that total strangers will give them donuts (back when Krispy Kreme was available after Mass) or even cash just because, "They are so good!"

Truly, if they are ever good, it's in Church.  Lord knows it's not in the car on the way to Church, or on the way home.  Years of research have given us some insight into church and children, which I now will now share with you for this low, low price of absolutely nothing.  I'm not making any promises.  Maybe these tricks won't work for you.  Every child is different, every church is different.  But they did work for us.  You get what you pay for, I guess.

We Always go as a family.  Good cop, bad cop.  Four arms are better than two arms.

We Always sit toward the front.  "The better to see you with, my dear."  We (I) have the best intentions of getting there a good 10 minutes early (The Chef is fine with 3 to 1 minute early), so we can take a whole pew on the side where we can see if our altar servers are paying attention.  Then we have room to pile our coats and spread out so we are not touching each other. No fourteen or twelve year old girl wants her brothers of any age touching her.  Ever. We prefer to sit with outside aisle access for clean get-aways.

The Chef and I rarely, if ever get to sit next to each other.  Divide and conquer.

When anyone is overcome with restless leg syndrome, or drumming fingers on the pew back in front of you syndrome or picking off all my nail polish syndrome (more on this below), I've learned not to use the Death Claw of Pain, but instead really gross out my kids and try to hold their hand.  Lovingly.  They hate it. 

We Never bring snacks or juice.  I learned the hard way that those cheerios will end up stuck to the pants of the dear souls in front of you.  As a sidenote to this, don't let your teen daughters pick off their nail polish at Mass.  Those flakes of Purple Passion also end up stuck to the rears of those poor souls in front of you.

We Never bring toys that have wheels, or anything that might roll toward the altar.  Our church is on an incline.  I learned the hard way that a Hot Wheel in motion tends to stay in motion.  We only bring silent playthings for babies.  And we've said that too.  "Toys in church are for babies.  You are a big boy!"

We did bring religious picture books and/or coloring books or maybe just the envelope I write my grocery list on and a pencil.  And occasionally a few crayons.  Maybe 4.  That's it.  No baby dolls or GI Joes, or anything else that's going to distract the kid behind you.  I once witnessed a darling person in the pew in front of us unzip her purse and turn it upside down.  Out fell about 50 poker chips, which clattered and spun.  Another time, I spent 55 minutes trying not to watch the little girl in front of me do her lipstick and her hair over and over and over again.  No purses either, except mine.  I'll take charge of the crayons.

Once a child is four of five, the picture books should do it.  At age six or seven, a child's picture missal should about cover it.  First Communion is right around the corner, so they should be paying attention and participating.  Fake it til you make it.

I have used gentle reminders throughout Mass. I've whispered things like, "You know the Our Father, here it comes."  "Hear the bells?  This is the most important part."  "Wait for the basket.  Here is the envelope."  Now that my brood is mostly older, and we switched to electronic giving, I just open the missalettes to the song or reading page and pass them down. 

We exit stage left as soon as, if not before, a child makes a fuss and becomes loud.  Everyone heard the thunk when he whacked his head on the missalette rack.  We might be able get him out while he is still holding his breath before the big scream.  Don't do it for the parishioners.  Do it for the priest.  I've heard from more than one priest that a crying child is very distracting, and makes saying Mass and giving a homily much more difficult.

When we leave the main body of the church with a child, whether to a cry room, the narthex, a gathering space, outside, WE DO NOT PUT THEM DOWN.  If you put the child down, he or she will wander and play and have a grand ole' time.  Then next week, when she is bored or fractious, she will misbehave and fuss, until you take her out and then she gets to play again.  See a pattern here?  It's a pain the back, but if held, the child will learn that she has slightly more freedom and a more enjoyable time if she behaves and stays in the pew.

Daily Mass Disclaimer:  Now, anyone who sees me at daily Mass, alone in the cry room with Baby J, knows that I do put her down and let her do Tobias rolls (gosh, I wish I could find a clip of this scene from Arrested Development) and eat goldfish.  But that's daily Mass.  I have no helpers.  Baby noises in church at daily Mass are way louder.  And I usually have to jerk her out of a deep sleep to bring her.  

We DON'T let them leave the pew.  Just like a roller coaster, please keep arms and legs and hands and feet inside the pew at all times.  Put someone on the end who can play by these rules, like a Dad.  You may not think anyone notices, but we are all watching Junior take his shoes off and stick his legs in the aisle.  Though he is adorable, the old lady with the walker is going to trip.  And meanwhile the rest of us just want to spend some time with our Lord without wondering when he's going to make a break for it.  Because he will.  Either up the aisle or around the altar.  I know parents who've changed parishes after such events.

We occasionally surprise them with donuts.  Our church doesn't have Coffee and Rolls.  But sometimes...you never know when...everyone gets rewarded with a trip to the bakery after a good showing at Mass.  And sometimes everyone gets lectured about what went wrong and why, and then we get donuts anyway and eat emotionally and promise to do better. 

This is all much easier if everyone is well rested and fed and watered.  That's why we go to the late Mass.  We like to sleep in and have a leisurely breakfast with a variety of pork products, before we realize the time and make a mad dash for our two bathrooms.  "Don't Flush!  I'm taking a shower!" Or we just show up smelling like bacon.