This blog is about the young life of Ian as told by his mother.
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.
Dear Santa,
Before Friday, I couldn't really understand why anyone would give their child french fries willingly. Then I tried to eat lunch on the boardwalk with my son. It started innocently enough. Melissa and I had to partake in the boardwalk tradition of eating cheese fries for lunch. I put Ian in his high chair and began feeding him butternut squash and corn. All was not going well. The child was screaming, flailing, and generally ticked off. I took him out of the high chair and place said child on my lap. Still screaming and flailing. Ian starts grabbing at the fries. I caved and gave him a fry. He was quiet. I gave my not-quite-eight month old French fries. At least they were good French fries.
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This blog is about the young life of Ian as told by his mother.