It really does appear that parents can’t win no matter what route they take. Cry rooms are out. Snacks are out. Toys are out. Nursing in public is out. Kids making noise is out. Kids moving around is out. But as parents we are supposed to believe that our kids are welcomed and accepted in the pew at Mass because Jesus says let the little children come to Him? I guess that means as long as they don’t act as little kids they are welcomed and if our kids do act as little kids they shouldn’t go to the cry room but instead be left at home with a sitter. None of it makes Catholic Churches very welcoming to families. We are supposed to be prolife and anti contraception and we are supposed to only use NFP for serious reasons, yet Catholics by far are less welcoming to families with many young children than any other group of people. I have been to Mass in many areas stateside and in other countries, and US Catholic Churches are by far the least welcoming places I have been to. There are a few exceptions and most priests I’ve met are welcoming, but the congregations are generally miserable and full of judgmental parishioners. I’ve been Catholic my entire life and have no plans in leaving the church. I completely understand why many people do leave though. It’s a no win situation for young families.
I do understand what you’re saying here, but if I could offer a quick thought?
I’m a new mom of a two-month-old. We didn’t take her to Mass during the first month, as the 'flu was REALLY bad in our area and we didn’t want to risk her getting it. I’ve now taken her to Mass all of about four times, so my experience is pretty limited.
However, after the first two times, I decided that three things would be really helpful for me both now and in the future:
- Try to get to a Mass that happens right during naptime when it’s possible. I know it won’t always be, but for now it is, and having her spend the first 40 minutes asleep makes everything easier for all of us.
- Try to arrive early enough to get a seat at the end of a pew, rather than in the middle. That way, if I have to take her out, I don’t have to squeeze past other people to get out.
- Figure out what my standards of behavior are, and if the kid/s are meeting them, adopt a “scr*w you” attitude to those around me who aren’t happy about it.
Right now, of course, my standard is “not screaming.” If my daughter coos quietly, slurps on a binkie, or burps, I’m not leaving the sanctuary. If she starts to cry and doesn’t stop when I give her a binkie/change positions/rock her/whatever–i.e., within 15-30 seconds–we step outside. She’s a baby, but that doesn’t mean she gets to disturb the people around her. (Obviously, at this age, I’m not “punishing” her by carrying her out; she can’t be expected to have any kind of self-control yet. I carry her out so that no one has to try to pray while someone is exercising her rather impressive lung capacity two feet away.)
I maintain a polite but firm, don’t-mess-with-me demeanor if someone near me is unhappy about the fact that my daughter is, for example, sucking hard on a pacifier. This also applies to the stereotypical person who refuses to let me sit at the end of the pew, but then rolls their eyes when I carry her past them so we can go outside. I will smile politely, but also make it clear that I really don’t care about their attitude. It isn’t reasonable to expect a two-month-old to never make a peep in church; it
is reasonable to, as I do, remove her when she starts making a racket.
I imagine that I’ll adopt a similar attitude (with, of course, appropriate adjustments in my expectations for her behavior) once she’s a toddler and, God willing, has a younger sibling or two.
I should add that I drew up those standards after spending the first two weeks practically in tears because of the nasty looks I got from parishioners when she whimpered and I carried her out. It then occurred to me that while it’s unfortunate that some old bats don’t understand that babies a) are part of a healthy church congregation and b) occasionally make noise before they’re carried out, I don’t have to let their behavior affect my attitude. If I am measuring up to my own standards, then I’m content at the end of Mass. And if they don’t like my squeezing past them on our way out, they shouldn’t have glared at me and sat at the end of the pew when I whispered when they came in that perhaps they’d like to sit in the middle, since I would probably have to carry her out at some point.
I am sorry, though, that you’ve had to deal with this kind of attitude, too. I hope that the next time you’re at Mass, you meet the kind of sweet older gentleman I did last week; came up and asked if he could give me a hug, and cooed over kiddo while telling her how well she’d behaved and how cute she was.

Yes, it made my day!
ETA re cheerios: I never had them as a kid while at church, and I really do think it’s possible for kids to get through Mass without them. I don’t plan on using them. I don’t like them in church for several reasons, mess among them. However, not all parents parent the same way, and if the parents don’t let the kids smash/scatter cheerios all over the place and the kids are generally behaving well–well, I figure I have enough trouble managing my own kid(s) without trying to manage theirs.

Better cheerios than playing endless rounds of a game on an iPhone, as I’ve seen some kids doing during Mass!