Medagoopus

I first heard it maybe two months ago, whispered so quietly it was gone before I even could ponder what I had heard. And it continued like that for the next couple of weeks; Isabelle and I would be doing our thing .... running errands, playing, going for a walk, and it would happen. I would think I had heard it, but then it would be gone, and she would be looking at me all clear and bright, as if to say, "What, Mom? What's your deal?" Then one day, as she pointed out a "jet trail" left by a plane in the sky, I was sure. I had to ask.

"What is 'Medagoopus?'"

Of course, Isabelle could not really give me a straight answer, but by then I had mostly figured it out for myself. As near as I can deduce it has several meanings for Isabelle, but in general it is a term used to express happiness, surprise and joy. In the jet trail example, for instance, she pointed into the sky and exclaimed, "Oh, medagoopus," as if to say "Look, Mom, how cool!" (why she couldn't just say that, I am not sure, but that just would not be Isabelle, now would it?). As a former English major, I confess I find it rather amusing to see my child experiment with the English language to the point of creating her own fun words and even more entertaining to watch her put it into use. Such as:


"Ooooo Medagoopus!" (pointing out the train chugging down the tracks on the way to preschool one Wednesday morning.)

"medagoopus, medagoopus, medagoopus,medagooopus, medagoopus, medagoopus, medagoopus, medagoopus, medagoopus, etc." (chanted mantra-like under her breath as she plays with her new princess castle from Easter, smiling happily.)

"MEDAGOOOOOOOPUS!!!" (yelled like a Scotsman out of "Braveheart" as she tears across the living room in a run, just to see how fast she can go.)


I seem to recall her having her own unique happy sound when she was younger as well, although sadly what it was is escaping me at the moment (which is exactly why I should write everything down!) but, regardless, I can say for certain my daughter is her own unique being! With all seriousness though I adore Isabelle's childish exuberance and zest and the fact that she is so happy sometimes she actually makes up a word to try and express it.

And she might be on to something. Standing outside my house this past Saturday, filling my lungs with clean spring air and raising my face to the warm sun the word, "Medagoopus" flitted across my brain. Suddenly, I was grinning.