Dear Ian,
On Friday, you were nine months old! I'm a few days late writing your letter, because things have been very busy around here! You are growing like a weed. At your nine month check-up, you weighed 22lbs and 3 oz and you were 29 1/4 inches long. You're out growing most of your 12 months clothes, but your 18 month clothes are still a little big on you.
This month you really started babbling a lot. You seem to have full conversations with yourself. Too bad we can't understand baby! You have said a lot of words that we can understand though like, mama, dada, duck, kitty, doggy, night-night, and ok. You've become very vocal when you need or want something. This leads to a lot of screaming. Speaking of screaming, you've mastered the high-pitched screech. Your daddy calls you a velociraptor.
Up until a few days ago, you were eating all kinds of foods: pasta, mac and cheese, meats, cheese, fruits, veggies, and goldfish crackers. Then you started spitting up again, after almost 3 months of no spitting up. The doctor thinks you might be allergic to some type of food, so we had to go back to fruits and vegetables, and re-introduce everything to see what might be making you spit up.
You like to play with your toys, and you still like your jump-a-roo. You love to watch the Wonderpets and the Backyardigans on television. You probably like those shows because of the singing. You love it when we sing to you. You've even been getting into the Christmas carols lately.
Speaking of Christmas; you have no idea what that is, but you really like looking at Christmas trees. Aunt Denise has a TON of holiday decorations in her house and you love to look at them. Especially at the train that she has running under her tree.
I love you more everyday. I still sneak into your room every night to see you before I go to bed. I know that santa will be bringing you lots of presents because you have been a very good boy.
Love,
Momma
I am the biggest hippocrit ever. The pile on the left side of the tree (your left, not the trees left) is Ian's pile. I don't know how it happened. He lost interest after the third gift, so most of it is being regifted for his birthday. :)
My son has a cold. Not a terrible cold, but enough of a cold that he is cranky and very stuffy. This afternoon, after a very short nap, several snot suckers full of snot, and an impending late evening party, I asked me husband if he thought we should give him some benydral to help him breath (he was so congested). My husband said yes. To which I replied that I felt guilty because I knew it was going to make him go to sleep. My husband laughed and said something to the effect that I made him take it everynight (for his snoring, oh god, the snoring). I figured he had a point. If he hasn't died yet, I guess 1/3 tsp of benydral wasn't going to kill Ian either.
I am excited about Ian's first Christmas, but the path to getting there has been filled with snarling, barking dogs who are trying to eat my shoes so I can't more forward. We have presents. We have a tree (albeit without ornaments). We have cookies. Yet there seem to be many loose ends lurking about.
Dear Ian,
Ian is discovering free will. He's figuring out that he doesn't have to go along with everything that I want him to do. Since this new discovery, the changing table and car seat have become mortal enemies. The wet washcloth is also high on Ian's most wanted list. When Ian decides that he wants to assert his will, a lot of screaming, arching, and flailing is involved. This makes life with Ian a little tough. 
It was a busy weekend in the Kish household. There were parties and pictures and visits with Santa. There was also crying and whining and a trip to the doctors to check for an ear infection. Apparently, there is no ear infection, Ian just has a bad personality and a lot of teeth coming in. Our little trip to the doctors was not a total waste of time, because we learned that Ian weighs 22 lbs. Oh. That's why my back is killing me. The picture is of yours truely and Ian. The hat says I've Been a Good Boy. I'm going to take a second to shamelessly plug Old Navy for carrying baby clothes in size 12-18 months because I was able to find cute baby clothes and hats for Ian, including a jumper that says Baby's First Christmas.
Ian has taken a sudden interest in the camera. He knows that he should ham it up when the camera comes out. Silly boy.
As my favorite holiday of the year rolls around, I find that I am thankful for many things. I am thankful for Ian, who has changed my life in unconceivable ways.
