After a trip to the Philadelphia Zoo on Friday, the itch has been scratched.
Our first frivolous and totally unnecessary baby purchase: a stuffed ... something. Otter? Meerkat? Whatever it is, it's soft, adorable, and cuter than the hats, bibs, and way-too-big t-shirts that we looked at in the gift shop.
We're zoo junkies. We were members in Columbus, and had a membership to the Indianapolis Zoo when we lived an hour away. Obviously, not all zoos are created equal, and I'm really bothered by the sort that are small cages for miserable poo-throwing monkeys or undersized pens without anything even vaguely resembling an healthy habitat. But there's something fabulous about wandering around and being near solid, sustained, and ethical conservation and education efforts, and I love being able to be a part of that. My mom took me to the zoo often when I was young, and I hope we get to do the same sort of thing with Bugbear.
We got some pictures that I love, as well.
A drinking giraffe:
The happy couple and a warthog statue:
Krista, Bugbear, and the new toy:
The "bump" is not Bugbear, but bloat. 4.5" of bloat, to be exact. Bugbear is currently the length of a quarter, but somehow that's translated to about a pound of weight gain, and none of my pants fitting. Bodies are strange things, and growing a little person is a strange adventure as well.
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