The cry room

Ever have one of those days where morning goes according to plan? Where you realize that for the second day in a row, you are missing one crucial ingredient to make dinner.  Therefor, you have to prepare for an elaborate trip out, which you desperately try to plan around daily Mass and a desperately needed free coffee day at Starbucks.  (Don't judge me; I still haven't gotten my French press back from ServPro.)  This involves repacking the diaper bag to ensure you have plenty of spare diapers, wipes, pacifiers, blankets, and at least two changes of clothes for your bundle of joy who usually loves Mass, has been known to blow threw the outfits in less than a half hour.

After much preparation and fanfare, you get to Mass, where you must choose your seat with care. Not too close to the well meaning little old ladies who think it's acceptable to pat my baby on the head/back/tushy and wake him up, not too far from the exit should the need arise to make a hasty get away, not too far from a visible spot to the front because we actually want to see Mass.  And then, he woke up.  As a rule, Tolkien likes Mass but if he gets hungry and if I can get him settled eating quickly he will happily sit through the rest of Mass.  I have found that we are the most successful with this maneuver if I do it before Mass starts and there is almost no one there, or if I excuse myself to the cry room for a minute to get situated.  I only have about two minutes to get him set up before all hope is lost, Tolkien won't settle, and I might as well go home.  Now the scene is set. 

Today, someone thought the Cry Room was really only for the first person who gets there and used it as her personal playpen for her unruly toddler... And locked the door.  Needless to say, I missed the window. Causing me to try not to glare daggers at the woman for the rest of Mass.  I will be the first to say that I understand that taking toddlers to Mass is difficult and bless you for trying.  However, lady, I needed a cry room for my crying baby, and by the time Mass was done, *I* was ready to cry too.