So it turns out I'm not depressed at all! All that sullen teenage-like angst was just PMS! I've never been so happy to see my... How you say? Menses? Is that the word? I haven't experienced a real cycle since before I got pregnant with Genoa SIX YEARS AGO, so I had forgotten all about the rigors of my femininity. I had zero clue that my funk had nothing to do with my FEELINGS and everything to do with my babymaker. Note to self: your magical period-deflecting IUD expires in less than six months. GET ON THAT.
Speaking of babies, Joel and I went to a most prolific church on Sunday. Those Apostolic Lutherans know how to party procreate, which is apparently all there is to do in the farmlands of Clark County. You can read my post HERE, but I'd highly recommend reading Joel's post, too. Especially if you're a fan of NPR's Garrison Keillor and A Prairie Home Companion. It's a hoot!
One thing I didn't include in my post was how I let Alex free to roam about the church after the service and when we went to go round him up, we looked high and low and everywhere in between, until we realized HE was the annoying kid plunking away at the congregation's piano. I was looking for him upstairs in the balcony when I caught Joel chasing him down for me.
Once rescued, all the boy had to say for himself was, "What? I never got to play in front of a church before!"