I should have something to say after five months...

...but I don't. I've been waiting for the perfect story to tell, or something really funny to happen, but by the time I have a minute to sit down at the computer, it slips my mind.

Sydney is going to have her First Holy Communion at the end of April. She is really excited to finally be able to participate fully in mass. She wants to try the wine, but has had a couple sips of what Mike and I like to drink and has swore it off forever (or at least until she hits her first college party). I told her I would buy something a little more "Churchy" for her to try and not the heady Malbec I enjoy.

As we round the corner into the end of April, I am making it a point to get to church every Sunday. I'll tell you, Sunday mornings after a busy week in our house, isn't the best mornings for cooperation. Camille, my little alarm clock very rarely sleeps past 8 am...it is the older one that I literally need to tip the mattress on to get out of bed.

This past Sunday we headed to church in 7" of freshly fallen snow (yes, snow in March in the middle). We run to the Little One's Worship room to drop Camille off, only to remember that it wasn't being held because of Spring Break. Crap. I have no snacks in my purse, nor do I have anything to entertain Camille with.

I bend down and look her in the eye. "Camille, if you are really good for me today, because I have nothing in my purse to sit through Mass with, I will let you buy whatever cereal you would like at the grocery store after church".

"Okay, Mommy! Deal!!!"

Off we scamper to Mass.

Sydney likes to sit in the front. I don't. My Grandma always told me that was where the sinners sat. Not that I am not a sinner, but I have a huge aversion to the front pew now. So, like usual, I direct Sydney's choice to the fourth or fifth pew back.

Camille takes a seat on my lap and opens her hymnal to the back so she can start flipping pages. She sits very quietly for almost the entire Mass...until we get to the blessing of the bread and wine. She joins us on the kneeler for about 10 seconds before she looks at me and says:

"Mommy, are we done with Jesus for the day??". I hear stifled giggles from those around us. I hand Camille the hymnal to start flipping through again. We stand up to say the "Our Father" a few minutes later. She decides that she does need to be heard over the entire congregation.

"OUR FATHER WHO AREN'T IN HEAVEN, HALLOW-DID BE YOUR NAME. THY KINGDOM COME, THY WILL BE DONE, ON EARD (unrecognizable words) HEAVEN!!!!!" and so on. More giggles from those around us. Camille is now acutely aware of her audience.

After we get back to the pew following communion, we take our place on the kneeler. She is watching the priest straighten up the alter. As he begins to empty the communion cups one by one she gets a concerned look on her face.

"Mommy," she says in an unhushed tone "The priest better be careful, because if he drinks all that wine, he might fall down the steps". Now people around us are having a hard time keeping their giggles quiet. Thankfully, the priest was hard of hearing, or chose to ignore us, because it is highly unlikely that he would not have not heard us in the 5th pew back.

Thankfully, during Lent we don't have a recessional hymn, so we were able to make a quick exit to the grocery store where she promptly chose Cookie Crisp.