WWJD

Sunday should be my favorite day of the week-- it's the day set aside for rest and Divine Thoughts. If I were more saint and less sinner, maybe it would be. But at 6 in the morning as I'm trying to extract myself from bed, all I can think about is drugs. I know: "WWJD?"

Getting the family ready for and on time to Mass at 7:30 a.m. should make me feel holy. But I just feel grumpy. It's so early! My brain longs for caffiene.

Why do we go to the 7:30 Mass? Well, there's no singing at the 7:30 Mass. And with two toddlers in tow, that's a good thing. Short Mass, not optimal for holiness, but optimal for sanity. Also, at 7:30 some of the kids are still comatose which makes it seem like we have very well behaved children at Mass. This is good for appearances. Which is always a plus at church.

I go into the girls' room to see if they're progressing with their morning. Sophia is huddled under her covers in bed and sounds like an echo from my own head as she moans, "It's too early, I'm too tired!"

Drugs, I think, I really need my drugs. "Everyone's tired, Sophia, but we all have to get up!" Lauren, looking somewhat disoriented, is turning her dress around her body for the third time to determine which side is the front.

"Look, I'm going to go check on the boys and when I come back, Sophia, you'd better be out of bed."

The boys' room is only slightly better. Drew is at least dressed. Alex is thrashing about in his bed while alternating between, "No church! Mommy, I don't want to go to church," and, "If I'm good in church can I have a donut?" My head is spinning. I need my coffee, but it'll be about two more hours before I get my hands on some. Technically you can have water and medicine before Communion. "Does caffeine count as medicine?", I wonder.

I temporarily bribe Alex: "Alex, you're not going to get any donuts if you don't get dressed for church." Sensing hope, Alex immediately begins to cooperate, "I'm a good boy, Mommy, see?!".
Fifteen minutes later I'm back in the girls' room. Sophia is imitating Lauren's trick of turning her dress around her neck in an attempt to find the front while Lauren complains bitterly about her tights.

"Mom, I can't pull them up! This is IMPOSSIBLE!"

Sophia looks up from the buttons of her dress, which are now in the front and looks blankly at Lauren: "That's why they're called tights." I can't help laughing which Lauren mistakes as criticism and immediately bursts into tears.

"Caffeine is a drug, and some drugs are medicines," I think desperately while trying to remember that logic trick with Venn diagrams I learned back in college. Twenty minutes later the girls are calm, consoled, with tights on and hair combed.

7:28 we're backing down the driveway. Late again, Bullwinkle.

Here comes the part when I get to kneel piously at Mass and absorb all of that Saintly Stuff that will get me to heaven, right? Somehow I can't feel it between trips out to the vestibule to put Alex in the corner, and wrestling the Kleenex packs and flying Kleenexes from Stephen. When the collection basket comes around, Alex puts in the envelope while loudly singing Barney's clean-up song and I slide down further in my seat.

Where is that amazing grace when you need it?? Do they have a super-dooper-amazing-turbo grace?... because I think that might work better.

After Mass Lauren whispers to me: "Mom, I think God thinks you're doing a really good job. I think he loves you so much he would give you twins!" WWJD!?!? If He knows me as well as I think He does, He'll give me a baby twin espresso machine and a dispensation for caffeine before Communion.

Copyright © Elizabeth Hertz Puglise 2009. All rights reserved.