A day of rest?

Since Ben has to be at church early on Sunday mornings it is my responsibility to get myself and the kids there by myself each week.
The goal is to be heading to the car at 8:30. In order to do this, I need to get up no later than 6:30.
Yesterday I first heard the alarm at 7.
But I didn't have to shave and had a dress I could wear without ironing, so no problem. I can do this. Things are going smoothly, I have Jonathan dressed and eating breakfast a little after 8. Avery is dressed, the bags are packed, and I am all ready except for my clothes when I sit down to feed her at about 8:15. All I have to do after this is throw on my dress, get her in the carseat, wash Jonathan's hands and face and get him down from the table, put Mazie in her crate, and we'll be on our way. This is a little later than I would like, but still doable. Really as long as we leave by 10 till 9 we will be fine.
8:25, about halfway done with feeding, has burped once, but let's try again for good measure. Then it happens. Spit up like I have never experienced. And I have experienced plenty, let me tell you. DRIPPING off of my freshly washed, freshly flat-ironed hair. Half of it. DRIPPING as I run across the living room to get her in the bouncy seat. And all over the back and seat of the chair. And all over her Sunday clothes.
So up the stairs I go, soak my hair with a wet wash cloth, pull out the hair dryer and turn back on the flat iron. Fix Fix Fix, Fast Fast Fast, put my dress, shoes, and jewelry on, grab a new outfit for Avery, back down stairs. Spray down the chair, change her clothes, put her in the car seat, wash Jonathan's hands and face and get him down from the table, here we go. Nope, Avery crying. Hard. She is hungry. After all, she just lost her breakfast. Tell Jonathan he has a few minutes to play with his new trains, make Avery a bottle, since now I am wearing a dress and nursing is pretty much impossible in a dress. Feed Avery. Listen to Jonathan whine for help with his new trains since he hasn't quite figured them out yet. Tell him I'm sorry I can't help right now but I know you can fix it. You can do it! Put Avery back in carseat. Pry Jonathan away from trains. Head to door.
Carrier in hand, diaper bag in hand, backpack in hand, bible in hand. Jonathan down the stairs to the back door. Me down a few of them.
Sniff sniff. Is that what I think it is? Yep, dirty diaper. Carrier down, diaper bag down, backpack down, Bible down.
Carry Jonathan up the stairs. Change diaper. Down the stairs.
Are you still reading this? Or have you quit? Because that's what I wanted to do at that point. We left at 9:47. Why didn't I quit? Why? Because the only thing I needed at this point was to drop my kids off at childcare and walk away. And that is just what I did.


In other news, the no paci thing has been going well at night, but Jonathan has yet to actually fall asleep during naptime without it. And today I told him I was going to the attic to get something and he asked "pacis?". So we're still getting there. But we're determined.

Angela, I will post pictures soon, I promise.