Little e and I went to church this morning. I was proud as a peacock dressing teeny in her Feltman Brothers dress and sweet bonnet walking down to St. Marys. Her in her stroller and I making the walk down McDowell- March of The Catholics- we headed to church.
Eileen was fantastic, sleeping in my arms throughout mass. The couple next to me, with their two hellions were in a constant battle keeping them quiet, forget tepid. Seeing what I had to look forward to in the coming years, I put a small kiss on her forehead thanking God for a simple miracle of a sleeping babe in the silence between prayers.
In a very un-ladylike way, she released a gas pain. The mother of the two children looked at me & like 10 year old girls, we both giggled quietly.
Two readings later, a pause between song and words... E had something else to be heard.
The pregnant woman in front of me, dashing in her white slacks, sassy haircut, and turquoise necklace... obviously her FIRST pregnancy, far too put together, turned around and gave me a look- as if to say, "Did you eat Vallatra's for breakfast?" The mother next to me gave another look and all I could do was giggle quietly at my precious baby, who still looked so dainty in her dress (even if she sounded like an old man).
Church wore on. The father next to me got up and down twice with his kid who would not settle down. Eileen continued to sleep. Kneeling before Communion,her in my arms, the choir walked down from the loft. No singing. No words. No readings. No prayers. Complete silence, waiting to go up to the alter.
It was never-ending. The mom next to me leaned over and asked if I needed a diaper. The man behind me coughed loudly. The woman (and her mother) both turned around and stared. The man next to them who said, "God Bless both of you" during the sign of peace sent a glance over his shoulder. I think even the deaf priest (literally deaf, not just hard of hearing) even heard a little rumble.
She must get that from her father.