Bornean Bearded Pork

Yesterday Jarrah and I made our first "mommy and me" trip to the zoo, the first of many such trips now that I have my Diamond membership. That means I can go to the zoo any time I want AND I can bring a friend totally for free. So let me know if you're feeling zoo-ish. Now, don't misunderstand me. I am not a zoo fanatic. Sure, I've had my share of enjoyable outings to the San Diego Zoo--after all, it is the best zoo in the world, and a really prime ocelot sighting can make my day. But I never saw myself as one of those moms who went there every week and rolled a lolling-head baby around Hoof and Horn Mesa. But my friends, that was before I found myself the mother of a lolling-head baby who jumps up and down and emits high-pitched squealing sounds when she's bored. I can see I'll be joining a lot more things in the near future. Can I get a Diamond Membership to the mall?

So, I packed up my gear and met Caroline and her two boys Will and Alex, all three of whom have accompanied me to the zoo on earlier adventures, but this time Jarrah made a lively fifth. She is very good in her stroller (very much enjoys a ride of any kind) and chose the occasion to unveil her latest adorable behavior: pointing. I was thrilled when we stopped at the giraffes and she pointed at the really big one; I screamed "Yes, that's a giraffe!" practically light-headed with giddiness at her uncanny feats of observation. But before I could get too puffed up, she whirled around and pointed just as emphatically at...a hedge. "Yes!" I said, a bit deflated. "That's a hedge. Also a feature of the zoo." She has been pointing with some regularity ever since, and it's still adorable, though I find it impenetrable when she suddenly decides to point at the sky or the totally blank white ceiling.

The cutest zoo moment was in a subterranean viewing cubby for a river otter, a bit like Otter TV from behind the glass. I wheeled Jarrah up close to the window and every time the otter swam by, flipping and swirling in a show-offy way, she emitted a low, growly "Uh-UH! Huh!" and laughed in this way she has that reminds me of the guy who twirls his mustache and proclaims "You MUST pay the rent!" How totally, totally awesome.

I was a little surprised how sweet and tractable she was the whole day, even allowing me to eat my lunch with no "em-em-ing." And when she got home, she snoozed like she was sleeping off a hard night. I could get used to this!

Oh, the title refers to a dream I had in which someone imperiously informed me that certain kinds of wild pigs are correctly referred to as "porks." When I woke up, I started telling David about my dream (a habit he no doubt wouldn't miss if I didn't, but I always do) and when I finished, I suddenly felt uncertain. "I mean, you can't call pigs 'porks,' can you?" I asked. "That's not done, is it?" "No," he murmured sleepily. "It's offensive."

HA! David is pretty hilarious when he's half-asleep. :)