Back to the Zoo

For a while now Ellie has been saying we need to go back to the zoo. Not in a super excited, jump-up-and-down sort of way. She has this resigned, tired way of saying it, like it's a huge burden: "Come on, let's go back to the zoo." It's how she "reads" Goodnight Gorilla, which has very few words actually. The part where the zookeeper's wife has to get all the animals who followed him home out and take them back to the zoo. That's how Ellie narrates this part. She squeals, "Goodnight! Goodnight! Goodnight!" for all the animals when the lights go out, and a perplexed, "What?!" and, "Oohh, nooo!" when the zookeeper's wife discovers them. But she is totally resigned, and sounds weary for this woman having to trudge back to the zoo.

Nevertheless, her suggestion persisted. So we decided to take the kids to the zoo on a discount day. We were pretty excited to see everything through a two-year-old's eyes. Have you ever bought someone a present that you just knew was perfect for them and that they were going to absolutely love? It was so perfect that you were just so excited to give it to them? That's how we were about going to the zoo with Ellie. This is going to be so great! And it was sooo . . . fine.

We've experienced this phenomenon before with Ellie. Sometimes we get it right. Wonder Pets for her birthday--nailed it! Little plastic dollhouse for Christmas--she can still entertain herself for hours on end with her "guys" in that thing. Mexican restaurant where they serve fresh chips--because Ellie LOVES tortilla chips--meh.It was a good day, but  not quite the magic we were anticipating.


Here are a few shots of the day:


Ellie being a ground squirrel (which she called "being Harry Potter" because she remembered a picture of her cousin doing this wearing his new glasses and Brady called him Harry Potter in it, so . . .)


Ellie going on the giraffe slide (where we almost lost her--she's going on a leash next time).


Ellie on the merry-go-round. She had the whole thing to herself, and she chose the chair. See what I mean? Just . . . fine.


She went again and actually rode it that time.


Charlie was as good a sport as ever, putting up with late feedings, a missed nap, and a hot day. He was just happy to be a long for the ride and outside so much. He was really a trooper.

The highlight, as always, was feeding the goats. I took a video again so you (grandparents) can see how much Ellie has progressed this year by not eating the goat food. (Just getting lengths of goat drool all over her hands and then touching her face a lot. Awesome.)


And what we thought would be the highlight: the butterfly garden. For all you fellow Fancy Nancy fans, you'll know how special a butterfly garden is to Ellie. She doesn't call them butterflies--they are "bonjour butterflies."


But then . . . meh.


I thought they were pretty cool.


She did get excited when one landed on Brady's shoulder while he was carrying her.

It was a long day and we wore these kids out.We had quite the nap time when we got home.


All in all, we really did have fun with the kids. We realized that part of the problem (if there was one) is that the whole world is like a zoo for Ellie. So much is still new and unexpected to her; a trip to the bank is still really exciting, running through the sprinklers counts as "swimming," and you go out of your way to find the speed bumps in a parking lot if Ellie is in the car because it is so fun. Walking down the street to see the neighbors' horses or chickens is something we do, but still and adventure. It doesn't seem to out of the realm of normal for her for there to also be a huge giraffe on the other side of the fence. So she enjoyed herself, but she wasn't gawking, amazed, jumping up and down. She took it all in and then was ready for the next animal.

In a way, it might be kind of sad when that all becomes so thrilling for her because that will mean that she doesn't expect the whole world to be exciting and thrilling anymore. It will mean that the rest of the world has become normal, that she won't see adventure in everything she does, that we'll have to seek it out. And someday she will actually be bored with her world, I will have to sigh and say in a tired voice, "Come on, let's go back to the zoo."