We’ve reached another milestone and I’m not sure I like it. After years of sitting in church sans children for seven years, my oldest has outgrown Children’s Church. It came as a total shock. I hadn’t even mentally prepared myself. One Sunday a few weeks ago, it just happened.

Aubrey left to go to Children’s Church then came back and whispered, “MOMMA IT’S NOT TIME FOR MY CLASS YET.”

And so it began. Now instead of leaning up against my husband, holding hands and listening to the preacher as my mommy induced PTSD takes a brief hiatus, Aubrey sits in between us, whispering a little too loudly and attempting to boss us around via notes scribbled on her church bulletin.

Aubrey is very expressive. If denied a doughnut before church it is not unusual for her to write a 300 word essay describing in vivid and misspelled detail exactly how she feels. If she isn’t allowed to wear her hot pink mesh, fingerless Madonna gloves purchased for an 80s themed party with her smocked dress there will be illustrations of “The saddest girl in the whole werld,” to occupy our time.

Last Sunday Aubrey scribbled furiously during the sermon and kept passing me her bulletin and whispering, “Your turn!”

“Emma snuck one.”

Aubrey whispered, “Can I have one?”

I shook my head.

“Come on!!”

“NO!” I hissed.

“Not cool!”

I whispered in her ear, “I am trying to listen.”

“DUMB, DUMB, DUMB.”

I guess that’s supposed to be me?

“I love you EVEN when you are mad at me!”

“I know that!”

 “You want to listen instead of writing me and that hurt my feelings.”

“Baby we come to church to hear God’s Word preached. I love you but I want to listen.”

“I give up.”

I snorted in church I was trying so hard not to laugh out out loud.

It’s probably a special kind of sin to gamble about what goes on in church on Sunday morning, but I’d be willing to bet $50 she doesn’t give up and writes a new essay next week. I’m pretty sure writing’s in her blood.