Owen has a very similar blankie to the one I had as a baby...as a toddler...through gradeschool...and yes, it followed me through high school and college as well. Tonight was the first time he reached for it and pulled it into himself. Awe! He has been such a good boy-I'm so blessed. I was contemplating whether or not it is fair of me to say that I love him more than I've ever loved anyone or anything in my life. I decided it is fair because my love for him is so different. You see, I love my friends because they have given me their time, encouragement, and respect. I love my parents because they have cared for, nourished, and supported me from when I was a helpless baby to this very day. I love my sisters because they are just that-sisters. We have been allies and friends when the world pushed us too hard. I love my husband with a love that can only come from above that surpasses every level of committment and servitude that man may try to do alone. I love him because he is who God gave to me to share my life with and make a life with. I love Owen just because. He doesn't give me advice or have to schedule me into his life. He doesn't give me things, food, or money. He doesn't keep promises because he doesn't make any yet. He cries when he wants something and seems to demand so much of me. He doesn't understand the world enough to know when I've had a bad day, so he can't try to cheer me up with a song, dance or even a joke. But...his innocence and his giggles bring a peace to my heart and add breath to my lungs. His cries that only I can soothe melt my heart. His messy bed-head and scrunched brow (that he gets from me) make early mornings the best way to begin a day...even when he woke me up at 4:30 a.m. and I never went back to sleep. His round tummy, wiggly body, and kicking legs can make me smile just thinking about him. He just has to "be" and my love grows everyday. My heart hurts for the mothers who can't hold their little ones because of sickness or circumstantial separation. I've read and been reminded of the torture some women have endured being separated from their littles ones and watching them die. Specifically I am thinking of the children of the Holocaust. I cannot even imagine...