Can We Stop the Clock Now?

Owen was 6 months old yesterday. I've decided that 6 months may be the perfect age and that I'd like to stop the clock now. I don't want him to grow anymore, I don't want him to get any older, or any wiser, or move any more. I love the perfection that is 6 months old.

He can move just enough in one direction to get all the way around in a circle back to where he just came from, like a little chubby human boomerang. He can pick his toys up, or my flip flop, or a pretend apple from Lily's kitchen, and all of them are equally yummy in his little mouth that does not yet have teeth. He can suck on a toe just as easily (OK, with more ease) than he can suck on his thumb. He looks at his fingers and his hands like they are someone elses and he's just found them on the ends of his arms. I can still make him laugh by playing "peek a boo" just with my eyes, I don't even have to cover them, just looking away is enough. I can "zerbertz" (sp?) his belly in Giant Eagle and get reams of giggles over and over and over. He's not quite sure what he's eating or why he's eating it, sweet potato, apple sauce, bananas (so far... all homemade of course), but he loves to eat. He nurses like an angel and holds it like a bottle, turning to check out what else is going on in the room but always, always returning to stare at me with those beautiful big brown eyes. I can't imagine the day when I will stop nursing him and still remember the last time I nursed Lily and cried.

These are the days that I will remember forever. The days that I will miss. So much is ahead of you my little prince, Lily's Owen-D, daddy's O-Dog. But for now, please stay little, please stay my little man, and giggle that giggle for me a few more times.