Today there was some grumbling and fighting between my teenage boys and myself about going to church, but not in the way you would expect.

This week, my husband wasn’t with us, so it was me and 7 kids trying to make it out the door for church. I am infamous for being the cause of any late grand entrances to church and the kids were having none of it.

Before you offer any pity for trying to get 7 kids out the door, let me make it clear. I am no supermom. The older 4 help the younger 3, while I take my time. I’ve got it good.

But today things were different. My 7 year old was sick. Ordinarily my husband or I would stay home and the other would bring the kids. But today I was the only driver in the house.

Both boys refused to miss Mass to stay home with her. They wanted to be at church. “Come on, Momma, you can just drive us all there, drive home with her, the demon 3 1/2 year old, and the baby, and then come back to get the rest of us.”

That didn’t sound fun to me. And she didn’t have a fever or things spewing from her body.

So, in the end, we decided to let her lie on a my lap while 2 boys served Mass, the 3 1/2 year old sat on 14 year old’s lap and baby sat on 11 year old’s lap.

Did I cast some magic spell on my children which makes them want to attend Mass more than any other activity? Nope. Are they perfect? Well, they’re about as perfect as I am, so no.

My kids want to attend Mass for one simple reason. They love God and want to be with Him more than anything else. That’s it.

As a parent, my job is pretty straightforward. Help my kids get to Heaven. None of us are sinless; we’re all quite flawed, but as long as our will is aligned with His, it should all work itself out in the end.

If you really, really love God. And I mean LOVE him. More than coffee. More than chocolate. More than your spouse. More than your kids. If you are willing to do anything He asks, not just lay down your life for Him, but lay down your DAILY life for Him, your kids will too.

It’s that simple. We all make bad decisions. But as long as we eventually find our way back to God, He’ll wait for us and love us. Knowing that He’ll always love and forgive me, keeps me running toward Mass and my kids as well.

One of my kids told me this week I could do a much better job as a mother. Hard as that was to hear, he’s right. Luckily I have a great role model in Our Blessed Mother. And hopefully I’ll have many years ahead to get this right.

Last summer, when Father Tom announced a new nursing room during Mass, I thought, “That’s nice. For someone else.”

I was old. I already had 6 kids. They were loud. Deafeningly so. Basically I was comfortable. As comfortable as you can get with ear plugs in your ears.

Then I did something dumb. I prayed for a break. I thought a little rest would be nice. I own a company and work over 40 hours per week. I homeschool the kids. I try not to scream much. That last one takes a lot of energy. So, I thought a little break would be nice.

We don’t take vacations and work/live on a very tight schedule. Yes, God, a break would be nice.

Then Father Tom announced the nursing room. And I gave away my maternity clothes and baby stuff.

Basically, Father Tom jinxed me. And I had a big mouth, by asking God for a break. He gave me one alright. Maternity leave. And I couldn’t be happier.

God does hear us when we ask for things. He likes to know that we depend on Him. His answers are rarely what we expect, but always what we need. I’m taking this time with what may be my last child and loving every minute.

Then again, I have 6 older kids who have been praying to God to make me like Sarah and Elizabeth so we can get to 10 kids. I have my doubts, but God tends to laugh at me. It was never about a number. It has always been about being open to His will and being madly, deeply in love with my husband. The kind of love that is only possible when you both try to help each other get to Heaven. The kind of love I wish for every person I meet. The kind of love that agrees that you will both be open to His will for blessings in your life.

Now, about that nursing room. There must have been something in the air, because at my baby’s baptism, she had 5 other babies with her. And the vestibule was packed this past Sunday with families of young ones; chasing their toddling toes while simultaneously listening to the homily.

Gotta love that nursing room!