Why is it that when you have a job, it always seems to be 9pm on Sunday night and you're all For Real? It's over? I mean, honestly, why not a three-day weekend every week? I really think everyone would benefit if we could just completely void Monday as part of the work week. This is totally not the intention of my post; to moan and groan about the weekend slipping away, that is. But a thought I wanted to share, nonetheless.
I actually wanted to tell you about the Babbling's Weekend Adventures.
We took Baby B to the zoo Saturday. And an outing with a 1-year-old is always quite the undertaking these days. Between Baby B bantering back and forth with a pair of Asian elephants, and his blatant requests to be stroller-free, he quickly plum-tuckered himself right out and we sped home for his afternoon nap. It was, in a word, exhausting. For all involved. Everyone napped when we came home. This is why being a zoo pass holder has its perks: we don't feel like we have to see everything while we're there because we can always come back to see what we missed.
Plum-tuckered out. In his news Robeez. A gift from his Great Aunt Laurie :) I actually wanted to tell you about the Babbling's Weekend Adventures.
We took Baby B to the zoo Saturday. And an outing with a 1-year-old is always quite the undertaking these days. Between Baby B bantering back and forth with a pair of Asian elephants, and his blatant requests to be stroller-free, he quickly plum-tuckered himself right out and we sped home for his afternoon nap. It was, in a word, exhausting. For all involved. Everyone napped when we came home. This is why being a zoo pass holder has its perks: we don't feel like we have to see everything while we're there because we can always come back to see what we missed.
And, because my husband will forever harass me if I don't blog about it, this post will not go without me mentioning that he was gored (his word, not mine) with the horn of an overly friendly bovine. He was petting it as if it were an oversized dog, and it just nuzzled its big ole head into his shoulder. He claims that he saved Baby B from subsequent gorage since I was holding him right next to this cow. Anyhoo. Just had to say something about that.
This was Baby B's response to a polar bear, I believe.
Baby B looking rather Steve Irwin-ish.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend, BFFs. Whatever may be left of it.
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