When Mass Feels Like a Marathon: The Truth About Bringing Toddlers to Mass

I have a distinct memory of myself as a little girl at Tuesday night Mass, using the church pew to complete some pretend crafts. Even though the scissors and Scotch tape were imaginary, sitting backward on the kneeler made the pew the perfect height for a crafting table. I was able to complete quite a few "crafts" before the closing prayer!

Now that I'm a mom, I can't help but laugh when I think back to my imaginary crafting sessions during Mass. As the sixth child, my parents had learned that expecting perfect behavior from little children wasn't realistic. They had raised five toddlers before me, and now, with two of my own, I'm learning just how much grace, and stamina, it takes to make it through Mass.

Two little girls running down the aisle at Mass.

A typical Sunday can feel like running a marathon when bringing toddlers to mass. Our 3-yr-old leans into the music and has been caught dancing in the center aisle to the Communion hymn or sitting on the kneeler and using the pew as her pretend piano, similar position to my crafting sessions! My almost 2-year-old likes to use the back of the pew as a balance beam while shouting, “look at me!”

I could go on and on about the chaos we experience during mass, but I am sure you have also experienced something similar, whether it was your own children or the children sitting around you. 

Unfortunately, I did not always have as much ‘chill’ about their behavior during mass as I do now. 

Let me take you back to Holy Week 2026.

Good Friday was especially sanctifying, as I felt my maternal pride being crucified right alongside Jesus.

For starters, the Good Friday service was at 3:00 p.m., the exact time of day when we are usually waking up from naps, having a giant snack, and getting ready to play in the backyard... not sitting quietly in a pew like two perfect, prayerful little angels.

Between my two children, we left the pew at least a dozen times and spent over half of the service in the gathering space of the church. It felt as though our entire parish community knew we were struggling and all eyes were on me. I felt completely humiliated. By the time Communion rolled around, I was fighting back tears of defeat.

I am not blind to typical toddler behavior, but when I see other families with little ones on the other side of the church make it through Mass, I can’t help but long for the same thing. I looked at my husband and said, "From now on, we will be going to Mass separately. Our kids need to stay home." 

After the service, my husband took our girls outside, and I returned to the empty church to pray. It was there that I heard Jesus speak so clearly: “Keep bringing your children to Mass. Their behavior is not a reflection of your character.”

Wow.

When did I allow my fear of what others might think of me as a mother to push me toward forcing them into an unrealistic mold of behavior?

Just imagine if that mindset were true. What would it say about God’s character? Each person has free will and the ability to make decisions and act in certain ways. We are all aware of the sin and brokenness in the world. But does that mean we have a cruel and hateful God? Absolutely not. The behavior of His children is not a reflection of who He is.

The behavior of my children is not a reflection of who I am. 

Mother holding her daughters during Mass.

With this in mind, I revisited my own words from last summer. I wrote in my blog: Graces for Sacramental Living “The Lord understands that encountering Him in the Sacraments can be challenging. However, He doesn't expect us to do it by ourselves. We are given the necessary grace in each moment to move forward. It would be a shame to leave those graces unused just for the sake of convenience.”

Sometimes that grace flows through embracing my oldest daughter shout-singing the Gloria, even if people are turning to look at us, or allowing our youngest to take her shoes off seconds after we arrive. Sometimes that grace is received through a friend taking one of the girls out of my arms and reading books with her after Communion so I can have a quiet moment to pray, or finding solidarity with other moms who know exactly what I am experiencing.

It is not always easy, and I do not always believe it (because the baby years can feel very long), but these years with little ones under my feet are so short.

Mass will not always feel like a marathon.

To really put it into perspective, check out Leah’s post from April 2023: The Years are Short but Mass Sure is Long. Since writing it, her oldest now has his driver’s license, and she has added two more little ones to her crew. Knowing her family dynamic and her deep love for the sacraments, her words fill me with so much encouragement and hope.

And so I will seize Christ’s invitation and continue to bring my children to Mass, even if I am tired and out of breath by the end.

Until next time, your sister in Christ,

Abby