Good. Friday.

I am SO glad it is Friday. And even more glad that it is a holiday.

I love Fridays. Fridays are an indication that, commencing sometime in the evening and for two days hence, I will theoretically have backup on all my baby-wrangling duties. The thought of this provides endless relief after a week of “no” and “stop that” and “come here” and general toddler management. Even if it’s still me doing the minding, at least I know that if I want to take a shower, I have someone to spell me off for a half an hour or whatever. But this Friday is a holiday, which means that the baby-wrangling was shared starting LAST evening, which is just fantastic.

And the fact that it is a holiday weekend means that half the street has buggered off to go festivize elsewhere (probably at grandparents’) leaving our little corner of Suburbiaville peaceful and quiet for the most part. No trailer trash neighbours across the way with their stupid loud-arse motorcycle. No shrieking ill-behaved children running loudly roughshod all over the neighbourhood. No endless parade of cars up and down the road and people go about their business. It’s nice.

Also? It’s going to be WARM this weekend. TWENTY-FIVE DEGREE warm. I have already been out doing some yardwork today, and I have a sunburn. It is AWESOME. I am clearing the winter deadwood off the gardens, and moving around/splitting perennials, and pulling some weeds. It’s great, after a long winter. And all the while I am doing this? BDH has That Baby in his care (because he hates the yardwork) so he’s playing with her and walking her up and down the sidewalks and spending some together time with her, and I can futz around with my shovel and garden gloves. Being outside has been really lovely. It’s going to rain tomorrow night, but until then? Springtime. Yee haw.

It’s Good Friday. And while it’s always on a Friday, it’s not always good. But not this year. Good! Friday!