I rush home from my long day at work, thinking single-mindedly of getting home to hold my baby.




I hurriedly drop my things at the door, reaching out my arms that have felt empty all day long.

He smiles at me, a look of pure happiness - my joy at seeing him must show on my face. I kiss him, hold him, tickle his miniature feet,  feed him, read to him, listen to him talk, change his diaper, help him stand while he explores.

There's nothing I would rather do.


There was a time that I would long for relaxing time, for "me time".  But our time together is so limited, I selfishly guard every second.

I impatiently count the days until I can be at home with my little man again.