Covering Giant Little Ears

I knew the church would be crowded. All of the Chreasters would be there (those who only go to church on Christmas and Easter) and I had no idea how this would go. I wanted us to sit together as a family. I didn't want to put Eli in the nursery like we do every Sunday - wasn't even sure if it would be open. He looked so precious in his seersucker suit - the one Logan was too big for before he even got to wear it. 

He knew he looked cute which made it even better.

We arrived ten minutes early and all that was left was the center of one of the back rows. To exit the pew we would have to climb over people. I can't tell you the anxiety that gives me. So many good friends and family say not to worry when there is a meltdown - that no one notices - but I know, I know, that every single person in earshot notices when those happen. Yes, it is going to make me sweat. Yes, it is going to make me feel like the worst mother in the world. Yes, I will feel helpless and isolated and unable. I am not going to watch those stares and disgusted looks and anything else - and I am not going to pretend for a moment that they aren't there. I am going to take my child away from the rest of the staring and judging world and hold him or not hold him - whatever he wants to do - as quickly as possible. And in church, or any place with rows, that means we sit on the end. 

But we took deep breaths, looked at each other, and politely asked if we could have a seat. 

Eli's face was almost sad looking, his body sunk into C's as we were seated. I could see it, there were too many people around him. Too much of a crowd. He quietly became very still in C's arms. He just cuddled there - not moving, not crying, not making a noise. He didn't blink - he often doesn't blink. Just stared into whatever world he was in. 

He didn't move or readjust when we stood for the opening song.

And then the Gloria started and for the first time I saw my little one's hands jerk up and cover his ears in reaction. He kept them there, pushing his face harder against C's chest. His little hands stayed there until it was over and then for several minutes after. 

He did it again at mass this past Sunday - when the Gloria began. And once more when we sang his little brother "Happy Birthday". No tears. No screaming. 

He just covers his little ears and curls into himself or whoever is holding him. 

He's my little Eli. 

And sometimes, even giants cover their ears.