Owen still isn't feeling like himself. He has spend the last few days like a rag doll, flopped over my shoulder. If I put him down for even a second, he cries and says "ma-ma-ma-mmmmmaaaa". My heart melts and up he goes, over the shoulder.

My house needed some serious help today. Food stuck to the floor like cement under the kitchen table. Dishes in the sink from last nights supper. Garbage bags by the backdoor begging me to let them outside. Clean laundry in a heaping pile that I keep thinking the laundry fairy will come and magically put away for me.
I cleaned my house.. well... Owen and I cleaned the house. Owen flopped over one shoulder while I scrubbed, vaccumed and carryed out the trash. He let me put him down on the bed while I folded laundry but when it was time to put it away, back up he went.

The good news is... my arm didn't fall off. Even when it was numb, tingling and I wondered if it was still attatched. He's napping now and the feeling is ever so slightly coming back in my right fingertips.
It's okay Mr. Owen... I will cherish these moments, as I will miss them when they're gone.