Friday. It's always been my favorite day of the week. As a kid, it meant freedom for two glorious days. As a working adult, well - it usually meant the same. As a mother with kids, Friday spells freedom in a different way.
5:30 pm Friday my husband arrives home for the weekend and I feel like I can breathe - if only for two days. Resisting the urge to throw the kids at him as soon as he walks through the front door is a feat I should receive an award for. Relief from the colic, the crying, the whining, the spit up. It's not that it has stopped, but somehow it is easier to deal with the crazieness knowing that we are suffering through it together. I'm too tired to analyze the reasons why it becomes easier, it just is and right now that's good enough for me.
Friday I'm in love.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa2nLEhUcZ0
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