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“If you don’t hear crying the church is dying”

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Going to Mass is a completely different experience since becoming a mum. I try and take Benedict most days, and if I can manage to stay with him in the pew until the end of the Gospel then its a good day!

The old ladies absolutely love him. They listen out for his unique owl sounding noise of: “cooo-cooo!” to know that Benedict and mum have arrived. At the end of Mass, they crowd around him waiting for his smile, and dutifully he never seems to fail!

I’m really lucky in my parish that everyone is so friendly and they don’t seem to mind the loud baby noises. But at the same time I can’t help but focus on those noises that Benedict makes and wonder how much longer I can distract him before I need to take him to the back of the church. I remind myself over and over again of the quote by an evangelical pastor:

If you don’t hear crying the church is dying!

And that carries me through all Benedict’s funny noises, the noises of a growing Church.

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The Art of Crawling

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At almost 8 months old Benedict has learnt the art of crawling. He only crawls for something worth crawling for though – if its the wind up music box playing “sur le pont d’Avignon,” he’ll crawl as fast as he can to the other side of the room. If its daddy making funny noises and trying to encourage him however, he’ll think about going, do a bit of teasing and move forward a little, and then laugh and turn his attention to something else.

I’ve started to “play dead” with him too. I’ll lie motionless on the other side of the room with my eyes closed, and if I wait patiently enough, I soon hear a small heavy handed “pat, pat, pat” getting closer to me. When he reaches me he puts his hands on my head, and if I’m not fast enough he’ll start pulling my hair. I’ll look up at him, and an inch away from my face he grins from cheek to cheek. He’s just like a little lion cub learning how to play.

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