Word.

I recently read that at my son's age (19 1/2 mo), he's adding a new word to his vocabulary every 90 minutes. Now, I don't know if that's just waking hours, or averaged based on a 24 hour day. What I do know is that, regardless, that's a lot of new stuff to say. I think it's referred to as the "language explosion". I love hearing him say new things. The only problem is that a lot of those newbies totally throw me for a loop. It took me about a week to realize, for instance, that "awahnee" means "I want it." In case you think he's referring to the famous lodge at Yosemite. And "iman" is not the supermodel from the 80s married to David Bowie. "Iman" means "Come on". Wyattese is a tricky language, but I have a team of translators on the job day and night.

This week has been rough. Wyatt's been great, but I've had a cold. It's hard to be on top of everything when your head is in a vice grip. And so, my kid has a few more freedoms than usual right now. Hey Wyatt, climb down from that 10' ladder. If you fall down, it could take me a while to remember how to dial 9-1-1. We're making it work, though. I thought about calling in sick, but figured leaving Wyatt in his crib all day would be asking for trouble. Out of pure hunger, he'd figure out how to climb out, and then my prison tactics would go the way of the dodo bird. Can't have that.

We're also prepping for more quality one-on-one mommy-kid time. That's glass half full code for single motherhood. Ryan's leaving again for South Dakota on Friday. The good news is that Wyatt and I get to fly out to see him on Tuesday and stay for a couple days for Thanksgiving. So it's only 4 days solo bookended by 2 more days solo. Ryan should be home by next Sunday sometime. And thanks to the same generous benefactor that allows us to use the SD ranch, we'll be flying private, so I won't have to do the airport security thing with a toddler. I'll admit it seriously weirds me out that my son's first flight will be on a private jet. I may need to get pics of him next to the plane in the hanger with sunglasses on, and start calling him Vinnie Chase. (I'm not sure. Is the mommy blog reading demographic the same as the Entourage demographic? Show of hands...) So anyway, the flight should be a lot easier than a typical traveling-with-toddler scenario. But lest you think he's being raised a spoiled brat, I hasten to remind you that he has a built-in humility regulator: i.e. we're raising him in humble Bakersfield. (Apologies to Bakersfield, which is actually a rad place to live. Sadly, a lot of people won't see it that way, because their only real education about Bakersfield has come from its freeway properties and it's non-LAness.)

So, anyway, to summarize: Wyatt talks. I'm sick. South Dakota for Thanksgiving. Bakersfield is rad.