Ode to Agatha

Is there a more darling child in all the world? I think not. Agatha is a joy and a delight. Here she is in the child's desk from Elk Grove elementary school, first painted yellow and used by Eric and me and then repainted by Grandma and Grandpa and used by Ian and Jill. Mom brought it from California and we just got it up from her basement yesterday. I noticed Agatha went bonkers for child-size chairs and tables at Thanksgiving, and I'd been looking for a set on Craigslist for Christmas but didn't find one. Then we remembered this desk, and she does indeed love it. She climbs in and does her coloring, very seriously. Henry likes it too; this evening after I put Agatha to bed I observed him sitting and drawing a pattern from an oriental rug that Michael was looking at on the computer in the chair next to him. Very sweet.

O Agatha! Never any bedtime ritual; we just say "it's time for night-night!" and she cheerfully blows kisses and says "bye-bye!" I put on her pjs, nurse her, and lay her down in the bed. That's it, and that's all it's ever been since she was a tiny girl. Never any protest (am I tempting the Curse of Blogspot by writing this?). She is vigorous and spirited, loud and determined, but always full of a deep happiness.

She is also full of surprises lately: today I noticed a molar glinting in the back of her mouth! She only has five teeth in the front-- two up, two down, and one bonus little one on the top-- so I didn't even think to check for molars, but lo and behold one came in without us even noticing it. She is saying so many words now: new ones lately are "uh-oh!", "down" and "guy." Today she told me she pooped-- she got my attention (by standing up in her desk) and then very clearly and deliberately said "poo! poo!" (this is an improvement over "ppp," which was what she used to say, a kind of spittlely-raspberry). "Did you poop?" I asked. She grimaced, said "uh," and pointed to her diaper.

Agatha, the Good! You delightful girl. We love you!