We've reached another milestone and I'm not sure I like it. After seven years of sitting in church sans children, 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 80's 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!"

Aubrey wrote: I see those Snickers in your purse.

Me: They are leftover from when we went to the movies. Aubrey whispered, "Can I have one?" I shook my head. She wrote: Emma snuck one. Come on. Not cool. I wrote: I want to listen. She drew a picture of a woman (me, I suppose) with a cartoon bubble coming out of her mouth that read, "Zip your lips now!" With the caption, "Dumb, dumb, dumb." I wrote: I love you even when you are mad at me. She wrote: I know that. You want to listen instead of writing to me and that hurt my feelings.

I was beginning to get cramps in my right hand, I hadn't held a pencil this long since college. I wrote: Baby, we come to church to hear God's Word preached. I love you but I want to listen. She wrote: I give up.

I snorted in church. I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud. And it may be a special sort 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. It's in her blood.

(Robin O'Bryant is a former Mount Pleasant resident and mother of three. Read her blog online at www.robinschicks.com).