What Type of Cry Room Parent Are You?

a hopefully humorous musing

This past Sunday at Mass, I went to nurse my son in the cry room at our parish and it was so full that I rushed back to our pew to feed him before he got too upset. Fortunately, our pastor was still preaching the homily, and so a little noise didn’t seem quite so disruptive in our middle pew. 

If this would have happened six months ago, I would have run to the bathroom and fed him there, in deep frustration (there are no speakers in the bathrooms, which given my nursing experience I now strongly believe there should be!). This Sunday, though, rather than drive me insane or give me somewhat warranted anxiety, it caused me to muse on cry rooms, their purposes, and the strategies different parents take. 

First, identify yourself - what kind of cry room parent are you? 

The Stakeout

If we stay here, nothing can hurt us, and we can’t hurt them. I have not yet encountered this in my own parenthood, but should my children act in a way I deem feral, I am not afraid to pull this strategy out of my back pocket. 

The Pop-In 

We belong in the pews, but if we don’t act like it, we can’t stay there! 

Also, sometimes breastfeeding in the pews is like a WWE wrestling match and I don’t feel comfortable, much less, do I imagine, the people around me. 

The Avoider

We belong in the pews! Period. End of story. 

These parents are my personal heroes. Only screaming can make them remove their children - and only to the narthex, at that. I have deep admiration for their tenacity. 

The Embarrassed 

Maybe you’ve been hazed by grannies who are used to their quiet prayer time post-children. Take heart! Christ asks the children to come to him. You do belong in the pews. 

Don’t be afraid to be a pop-in, if that makes you more comfortable, but don’t be shamed into staking it out when what your heart desires is to be up front! 

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When our son was born, I was determined to breastfeed. Thanks to my husband, mother in law, and the kind lactation consultants who saw me what felt like every week for two months, we found our rhythm. But when I began, feeding at Mass felt tedious and deflating. Something that I was deeply committed to, but frustrating nonetheless. Many Sundays I would feed our son in the bathroom because the cry room was near full and I didn’t feel confident enough in my cover + shield routine to accomplish it squished in between toddler families. This is my reasoning for the speaker in the bathroom idea, which I still stand by - even for diaper changes and potty training runs, this would be nice! 

Now, I am confident and swift enough to feed him in the pews, though I will often still leave just for the comfort of those around me and depending on what part of the Mass we are in. My strategy is the pop-in, and I hope to keep it that way. I firmly believe that we belong in the pews. Even when toys are thrown, the thrill of church acoustics are discovered, and it feels like we are doubling our allotment of Catholic calisthenics. It is a blessing to all those around us to be present in the congregation. In many ways, it is a ministry of our family. 

That being said, there are moments when I see parents stake out in the cry room and I can viscerally feel their relief. Children are contained. They are present. All is well. I am all too aware that times like this may come for our family, and all too soon. But that doesn’t keep me from the belief that the cry room is ideally a liminal space. It is where diapers can be changed so as not to miss the homily, where babies can be fed and not blow out the ear drums of fellow parishioners, where raging toddlers can be contained while they learn to regulate. Yet it is not where any of us truly belong. 

I write this to say that I see you parents in the throes of teaching Mass behavior. I see you trying, and I encourage you to keep doing so. Don’t let the cry room become a crutch. We want you, and need you in the pews again. 

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Though I don’t have any fun Mass stories with my son (yet), I can’t resist sharing one from my missionary days - I still believe that kids belong in the front pews, even when they tend toward disruption.

I spent the summer of 2018 as a Totus Tuus missionary teaching primarily 1st and 2nd graders  - and taking them to Mass each day. A friend of mine suggested that though it may be hard to focus on Mass each day while teaching the kids how to behave, I might try and focus on one aspect of each Mass that I could dial in to. This way, even if the rest of the Mass felt like a wash with correcting this and answering that question, at least I would have one moment to reconnect. I chose the moment where the priest elevates the chalice and the host directly following the “Lamb of God.” It’s still my favorite part of the Mass, to be honest. 

Well, one class of mine had an obsession with putting the kneeler up each time they stood - fair in a way, because the space between the pew and the kneeler was small at their church, but this practice also left room for…well, you’ll see. 

We were seated in the first two pews, myself in the second so as to be able to see the whole class at once. I was purposely seated right behind one of my more disruptive students in order to discourage his frequent chatting, and everything was going surprisingly great. As the “Lamb of God” ended though, my students flipped their kneelers down, and my little friend’s foot got stuck underneath one of the legs. Before he could alert them, the other students knelt. 

“OW-WAAAAAAAAA!” he screamed as Father, bless him, continued on with the prayer. I laugh now, but as a 19-year-old missionary I was mortified. Now it’s one of my favorite memories.

Children belong in the first pew! Sometimes the result is a humorous story, other times it results in the true connection you are hoping for for them. Though at times it may make you feel like pulling your hair out, I promise it is a worthy effort. That summer I was often privy to students striving to understand the consecration in real time, proudly showing off their genuflection skills, and even asking me about religious life with interest.¹

Don’t ever be ashamed of your kids’ behaviour at Mass, especially when they are just trying to learn. Jesus truly said “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” ²

If I left a strategy out, let me know! I’d love to hear about your funny stories, success stories, and moments that left you shaking your head asking if Christ really wanted the children to come to him because you don’t even feel like you can be around them at the moment. 

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1. I also accidentally made a very small and polite first grader pee his pants because he asked me to go to the bathroom ~during the consecration~ which we had previously discussed as being a very important time to pay attention during Mass. I still feel awful about this. 

2. Matthew 19:14