For the most part, Ryan hasn’t been all that interested in talking. We can tell that he understands a lot by the way he follows certain commands (he can give you a pretty decent high five, and if you say “Where’s Ryan?” he hides).
He does say “Dada” on rare occasion. But other than that? It’s a whole lot of incomprehensible babbling. I have a good friend whose daughter is a mere six weeks older than Ryan, and she’s got a more extensive vocabulary than I had in high school. It’s borderline ridiculous. In contrast, Ryan appears pretty confident in his ability to make himself understood through a sequence of whines (he’s not as good at it as he thinks).
So I was surprised when I walked past Ryan the other day and he looked me straight in the eye and confidently called something out to me. I didn’t quite make out what he said, but Mike beamed proudly at him, and for a split second I thought maybe my kid finally called me “mama.”
“Wait, what did he say?!?!” I asked Mike.
“He said “A gung go!” Mike replied.