A Sticky Situation

The last few years, our family has participated in a huge convention called Lads to Leaders. It's a place where our kids can practice song leading, speeches, Scripture reading, and Bible Bowl, among other things--in other words, practice and learn so they can be leaders in the church in a few years. It's so much fun and rewarding and great, but it's also Easter weekend, which can be exhausting and a bit overwhelming.
Well, silly me, I can't let go of our other traditions we've instigated all these years, which complicates things even more.

For the last five or six or seven years, I made cinnamon rolls for Easter breakfast. The kind with the orange frosting. Not from a can. From scratch. Yummmm.
But when you're gone Friday and Saturday until late, that makes it really hard to make cinnamon rolls on Sunday morning. So, I figured out I can mix it all up and roll them out and prep them Friday morning before we leave, pop them in the fridge, and only have to bake them Sunday. Perfect, right?
It would be.
Except the convention had so many people signed up this year (a great problem to have), that they moved quite a few of the younger events (which means my son) to Friday instead of Saturday. Which meant we had to get there in time for him to lead singing at noon. Okay. So, leaving the house by 11. Still no problem.
I go to start the dough and realize I don't have enough flour. Okay. Run to the store five minutes away and grab more. Come back. Throw the dough in the bread maker to mix and rise.
Then, my husband looks at the email he has about when his judging meeting is (we all have to volunteer to be judges for other groups so there are enough) and realizes it's at 11. Oops. So, we need to leave by 10.
I glance at the countdown on my bread maker. We're going to be cutting it close, but it's still possible.
We get everything else packed and ready. I go to dump the dough out to roll and add cinnamon and sugar and orange zest. And it's a gloopy sticky glob instead of a nice dough. No!
Obviously, even with the new bag of flour, enough didn't make it into the bread maker.
I quickly add more until it's a better consistency, we get everything done as best we can, quickly swipe up the huge explosion of flour all over my table, and rush out the door. Sunday morning, the rolls don't look great, but not awful either. I pop them in the oven. They should finish rising while they bake.
They don't rise much more, either.
And the consistency is ... okay. But sort of a cross between a biscuit and a roll instead of being all roll. Sigh.
My family didn't complain. Didn't even act like anything was wrong. But the perfectionist in me was screaming and crying.
You know what, though? It all worked out.
We had breakfast and it was nicer than normal. The cinnamon rolls didn't taste bad. And I don't mind a biscuit texture. And all the traditions were kept as well as possible. Plus, I learned a few lessons, like make sure I check my flour stash BEFORE the day I'm baking next year. ;)
​How do you handle sticky situations? Are you good at learning from mistakes?