Sunday mornings are normally busy getting ready for Mass. I’m up for my usual 5am start, allowing me to get the washing machine and dryer going, the rabbits fed and watered, the dishwasher unloaded if it finished too late the night before and a coffee or two down me before the rest of the family start their day around an hour later and we embark on a round of breakfasts and showers for everyone before church.
Anyone with babies or toddlers knows how fidgety and inappropriately loud they can be during Mass. Oliver is still classed as “the baby” and so we can make him exempt from the rare bit of crying or loudness.
By and large, the rest of ours are actually quite good, keeping the fidgets to a minimum and normally able to stay quiet until the end of Mass. We find they normally get past the worst of the ants in the pants stage at around the age of three.
Paddy is just chatty.
But thankfully, still cute enough to get away with it.
And even more thankfully, our church congregation are lovely and very, very forgiving to the large, loud, bustling family that takes up a pew and a half each week.
This week though, was one to remember.
It was quiet.
And we could actually hear Fr Vincent speak.
Well, apart from the odd snore now and then.
Plus it was the first week that we didn’t take up a pew and a half ourselves as it was the first week that Caitlin and Harry served at the altar.
One to remember, I think!