I hate the end of the day. When the day is over, when I’m about to put Joshua to bed, I hate it.
The end of the day means another day to be home with my baby is over. It means one day closer for me to go back to work. It means another day of Joshua being a baby is gone, and he is one day closer to be all grown up.
I want time to stop. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to make time slow down, it speeds full steam ahead, taking Joshua with it.