This morning I woke up with morning sickness. I know, I’m HOW far along? With the last two babies I vomited straight up until delivery, but the last three months of this pregnancy have suddenly turned into “normalcy” and so the intense nausea that followed me around all day caught me very off guard.

We go to church on Sundays, even when Dad is deployed and I’m cranky and huge. Church for us meets at 1:00pm, which is not too bad of a time as long as you don’t have any children who nap. We share our church building with another congregation, and every year we flip schedules to meet either in the morning or the afternoon. This way everyone is tortured equally, either sacrificing your nap, or being forced to get up early and wrangle children into church clothes before you’re fully awake.

Now, this switch happens every year. The first Sunday of the new year, you meet at a new time and your kids move up a year in their Sunday School classes. I’ve been doing this for most of my life.

I spent all morning building up how exciting this class switch would be, and how they were getting SO BIG, and how they would have a BRAND NEW teacher and would they PLEASE be so good and lovely and reverent at least for the first few weeks of the new teacher to save our family a little face? My children were stoked. I convinced my nauseated self that this would all be worth it, wiggled my swollen feet into a pair of heels and drove to church.

We made excellent time on our drive. There are seven stop lights between our house and church and we had green lights on all but one! The Killians were not only getting there, but we were getting there on time! And I had remembered to put mascara on both of my eyes! This was going to be a good Sunday!

We pulled up, walked into the foyer, entered the chapel. . .and no one was there.

Church was at 8:30 this morning.

As soon as I saw the empty chapel I knew exactly what I’d done and I started to laugh. My children were positively bewildered. They sat down in our usual pew and stared at their crazy, hugely pregnant, laughing mother, and then clearly assessing my behavior as not too terribly strange for me, asked if they could have their crayons and start coloring! It was too much. I nearly cried laughing.

I calmed myself down and explained the mistake I had made and apologized for dragging them all the way here for nothing. Maggie was fine with it. I think she’d be pleased if church was always a drive by event, but Jonas was not happy with me for missing his Primary class. What can you do?

Some days are just bound to turn out this way. In case anyone was laboring under the delusion that I have all my ducks in a row, now you know the truth. My ducks? They’re all over the place.