So much for Thursday morning being a slow time at the zoo. There was no way I could predict there would be class field trips happening today. I swear it’s as if every elementary school in Manhattan sent their classes to the Bronx Zoo just to make my day more challenging. As Madison tugs on my hand, I waddle over to the elephant exhibit.

Now that I’m into my eighth month of pregnancy, I should be joining the elephants behind these bars. I remember when I was worried because my belly hadn’t popped yet. Now I’m counting down the days until I can see my toes again.

Madison is the perfect tour guide for our zoo exploration today. Her little legs are easy to keep pace with. She and I travel at about the same speed now. It’s nice to get out and walk around for a bit.

“Isabella, look at the lala-fonts.” She points excitedly at the elephants slowly eating leaves. “Brrr-roo, brrr-roo!” She flaps her arm in front of her nose wildly, imitating their trunks. “Look, I’m a lala-font too.” Her eyes sparkle with the magic joy that comes with childhood.

“Wow, you sure are. People are going to get confused and think you should be in there with them.” I jab my thumb toward the herd. Madison giggles at the idea like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “You know, Madison, elephants are my favorite animal in the whole wide world.” I admire the giant beasts on display. I’m amazed by their grace despite their enormous size.

“Really? Why?” Madison keeps her eyes on the pack and starts jumping up and down like she’s hopping on an invisible pogo stick. “Look, Isabella, there are baby lala-fonts too!” Sure enough, from the center of the herd a couple of adorable elephant babies hobble out to woo the crowd.

“Elephant babies stay with their mom’s for five years, which is a long time for animals. I love elephants because they're super smart and in their packs it’s the moms who are in charge. They all stick together like they are right now and help each other out like a big family. Also, I love that they are peaceful giants. They scare lions and other animals away just by standing tall and sticking together.” I spout off my reasons, hoping to give Madison an appreciation for these majestic animals.

“Isabella, which one of the big ones is the baby lala-font's mom?” Her eyebrows knit together as she studies the herd, trying to find a match for the baby elephant rolling in the dirt.

“I’m not sure, honey. One of them is its mom, though. Don’t you worry about that. However, all the big elephants help look after the babies. It’s one of the ways they help each other out.”

Madison bites her lip like she’s in deep thought about the family dynamics of elephants. “Isabella, that baby la-la-font misses real mama.”

“I know, Madison. It can be tough sometimes for babies, can’t it? Sometimes people don’t always notice how they’re feeling, which can make it difficult to talk about it.” I crouch down beside her so I can look her in the eyes. “You know, I bet that elephant is really happy with its aunts too. Maybe they do fun things together and play with My Little Pony toys at night when everyone goes home. What do you think?” I smile as a goofy grin spreads over her face.

“No, you silly. They no play ponies. They eat hot dogs! And ketchup! Isabella, can I have a hot dog, pleeeaase? With ketchup too?”

I’m regretting squatting down right now as I struggle to get back to my feet. I completely understand women who say they feel like beached whales in their final trimester now. “Sure, Madison. I’m pretty hungry too. Maybe we can share a hot dog.”

“Yay!” She dances in a circle and waves her hands around happily.

“Okay, you need to hold my hand again. We’ll go to that cart right over there.” I point at the hot dog stand ten feet away with a line and antsy, loud children growing in front of it.

She slips her tiny hand in mine, melting my heart as her fleshy, peach fingers wrap around mine. We mix in among the crowd of boisterous kids, and I immediately remember everything I hated about school. Ahead of us are three preteen girls standing in a close-knit huddle whispering and pretending not to notice the boys. Meanwhile, the young men in question, with all of their genius brain cells put together, have decided that the best way to impress the girls is to hit each other with hats and call each other names.

Seriously?

An elderly woman with short, dyed red hair and sagging, pale skin watches the scene with her face twisted in a knot. She turns toward Madison and me and nods toward the school kids. “We sure picked a great day to come to the zoo, huh?” She rolls her milky blue eyes exaggeratedly and hunches her shoulders like this line is the last battle of her life and she just lost. Her gaze flickers down to Madison and a smile pastes across her jowls. “Well, hello there. And what is your name? You sure are a cutie, aren’t you?”

“My name is Madison Grant, and I two years old.” Madison holds her hand over her heart as if she’s pledging allegiance to the flag.

“Oh my, you sure are sweet!” The woman laughs.

The elderly woman goes back to focusing on the boisterous teens ahead.

Madison and I have never spent this much time alone together before. It’s nice to see she’s becoming more accepting of me in her life. Maybe the ‘special day’ trick my aunt Jill used on me is actually working with her too. I smile down at her, and Madison swings my arm back and forth playfully, grinning at me. Maybe this is what it’s like when a toddler calls a truce.

I hope so.