Why I Love Ian

At this very moment, he is explaining to me what a "boob" is. He keeps simply explaining that a "boob" is a breast. This whole conversation was brought on when I asked if the bras in the laundry belonged to his mother or sister. (Trust me, I am a completely terrible judge of which clothes belong to who in this household.) So he proceeded to inform me that they were definitely his mothers because Rahel doesn't have breasts yet. Didn't I know that?! And he must have then assumed that I, being so clueless about the bras, also needed to be taught the definition of a "boob". ...Just hearing him talking in his 6-year-old-European-English accent about "boobs" cracks me up.


Every kid in the house loves to read. On any given afternoon or morning, you kind find at least two of them with nose buried in a book. The latest craze of books around the house is Daffy Duck cartoons. All three of them love the books. Ian especially... So many times when we are riding to school, Ian passes the time with Daffy. Those are always good drives because he and Sara are actually quiet--AKA, not fighting. Even better (in that calm silence), are the mornings when Ian has picked up a particularly funny volume of Daffy Duck, and thus while reading along, laughs out loud. In the backseat to no one in particular, he will retell Daffy's latest escapade, and the whole time, he won't be able to stop laughing. It is the cutest thing...


Ian is definitely the "clown" in the family. He is silly. He cracks himself up. And he loves it. He is also the one who can crack me up on the toughest of days with just his innocent dinner-time "one-liners". I swear, there is never a dull moment with that kid! And I love him for it.