We attempted church last Sunday. All of us. After a slacker summer, it was time. We have been holding out going as a family, hoping our church’s nursery would reopen soon. The lady who voluntarily babysits at our church recently “retired.” So rather than torture ourselves, My husband (who requests to remain unnamed on my blog) and I will go separately, leaving all four kids at home.

It’s been months and no sign of the nursery reopening, so we thought, What the hell? How bad could it be?

BAD.

So here’s how it went down:

We get everyone dressed and all look nice — except Edwin. Apparently, I do not know how to dress a three year old for church. Last time he went, he was in a Jon-Jon.  I tuck his polo shirt into his elastic waist pants and with little time to spare, we vow to get him some church clothes. After frantic packing of sippy cups, books, and other paraphernalia, we embark on our spiritual journey.

Appropriately enough, it’s raining so Unnamed Husband drops off the girls.  I walk into church (late, of course) with Cate and Claire (17 months and [almost] 5 years). Our usually half-empty church is brimming with repenters. As the opening hymn is ending, I scan left, then right. Baptism. Damn.

We head to the back and find a partially-empty row and my hopes of  buffer rows are squashed as people are directly in front and in back of us. Unnamed Husband, David and Edwin (17 months and 3 years) join us. We sit and Edwin asks loudly, “Mommy, what is dis place?”

First Reading: Cate starts coughing. Then like dominos, Edwin and David fall victim to the cough and the hacking begins. I try to remember if any of them were coughing before now — I can’t. The triple coughing continues and I cover David’s mouth. My hand is covered in spit. I can see the woman if front us cringing as if swine flu droplets are wafting her way.

Second Reading: Juice and Snacks. I pull out the reserves early in hopes that the coughing will subside. I try to ration the twins but they begin squealing in frustration. LOUDLY. I give them the bag. They fight and spill half on the floor. They finish the bag and drop to the floor for the rest. Seconds later they reemerge and polish off the juice.

Alleluia: We stand and David hurls his juice cup at the pew in front of us. The lady bends downs and picks it up as if she is picking up a used Kleenex. I feel her pain.

Gospel: David begins playing peek-a-boo with the lady behind me. I feel a moment of relief now that he is being pleasant. It’s short-lived as I notice the thick strand of green snot hanging from his nose stretching to my shoulder. I swear no one was sick an hour ago. Luckily I have wipes and clean his nose. Noticing the snot all over me, I wish I wasn’t wearing black.

Homily: Cate has been whining and thrashing herself in hopes that Unnamed Husband will put her down so they exit the pew for a break in the back of the church. I try to focus on the message but realize that I never heard the gospel reading thanks to the snot debacle. A baby several rows up makes a loud, Enghh sound. David answers with a similar sound thinking it was Cate. The mystery baby and David call back and forth to each other for several minutes.

Preparation of Gifts: Fidgety Edwin asks, “When we gettin’ outta here?” He begins playing with the large bangle on my arm. David tries to take it, a squabble ensues and the bracelet spins like a dreidel in Hanukkah. It comes to rest two pews up and the poor lady ahead of us works diligently stretching her leg to retrieve it.

Sign of Peace: After offering the sign of peace to my family, I turn to the woman behind me with extended hand. She waves politely as she has no intention of partaking in our germ fest. Who could blame her. Rejected, I turn around and simply wave to the others nearby.

Communion: Unnamed Husband and Cate return. As we rise for communion, I discreetly threaten Edwin and we walk to the altar without incidence. Whew.

Prayer after Communion: Edwin has been messing with the kneeler since we arrived so he is thrilled when I pull it down to kneel. The babies flock to the floor, and escape through the open space the kneeler has just created. I pull David back easily. But Cate is out of reach, one row ahead. Edwin and Claire begin giggling uncontrollably and I can’t help but laugh too. The further she goes the more we laugh. She finally returns on her own and…

I am ever so thankful.