Day 2 of our Okie-crusted trip was dominated by a visit to the GW Exotic Animal Park near Wynnewood. This was the first day that we really felt the humidity. (We've actually decided that we prefer Phoenix summers to Oklahoma summers.) Addie's poor noggin was sweating after 10 minutes outside. Her hair has never been curlier:
Anyhoo, the park was truly one of a kind. It's mainly a refuge for unwanted exotic animals. You know, those idiots who think a tiger cub is cute until it eats their Maltese. And you get disturbingly close to the wildlife:
This particular guy was enjoying his nap and got a little nasty if you made too much noise:
And here's a little video that gives a little more perspective on how the park is set up, since Mike is moving around a bit, trying to get a tiger to charge the fence. He is successful, but because of the freezing-up nature of the video, you can only see the end of the excitement:
Should you frequent the Wynnewood area of Oklahoma, do check out this place out. There are something like 200 wild cats there, including a couple of Ligers. But I caution against wearing Flame by BK when you go.
Community Church of Joy had a leetle carnival last Friday, so the Cupaks and the Brookses traipsed off to see what fun could be had for our children. While the older Brooks boys were enraptured by rides and cotton candy, our little one was more about the {your adjective here} music:
After a little walking, a little dancing, more walking (away from mom and dad) and dancing, we cojoled her into going on the largest slide she's ever seen. Twice.
My second ever Mother's Day was great - a new Coach purse (that's right, Brandy, a new one), a lovely lunch at with other moms and pre-moms and their families, a much-needed haircut and some 'me' time. But really, I just wanted to take time to tell you about my mom.
Alice was born during a nomadic period in her family. My grandparents traveled throughout the country, my grandfather as a pipe-liner and my grandmother raising her 3 girls in a motor home. They moved constantly; the longest they stayed in one place was 18 months. When my mom was 13 or so, they finally settled in Dustin, Oklahoma, population 600. By some miracle, my dad's grandmother lived in the same tiny town and on a visit from California, they met. By the fourth date, they were engaged.
Soon after my parents married, they moved to California. She left her family, her friends and her familiarity to be with my dad, so he could make the best living he knew how. Over the first 9 years of their marriage, my dad worked as a pastor, a bail bondsman, a dairyman, an ice cream truck driver, among other things. My mom had to put her plans aside and just be a supportive wife.
Finally, in 1979, without meaning to, my parents became parents. My mom's pregnancy went smoothly, but (it's no secret) my dad wasn't ready. Essentially, Alice was prepared to raise her child without any help from him. But then a second miracle happened - on September 13, they found out that they were having two babies. Somehow, that was the trigger for my dad. He was ready for this - excited even. Cassi and I were born five days later; Blll and Alice were new parents of identical twin girls.
They settled down in a house in Tulare, California, where they lived for 22 years. My sister and I never knew transition like they did. We had the stability as children that my mom didn't have. They somehow kept us in private Christian school through 8th grade, took family vacations every 6 months and sent us to ballet, jazz, tap and piano lessons as long as we wanted them. They couldn't have been wealthy, but we always felt rich. I am grateful, now more than ever, for the childhood I was given.
There is a rare kind of bond between mothers and daughters. There is sympathy, there is stubbornness, there is gentleness, there is rebellion. But what I didn't know was there until I had my own daughter is the inexplicable, unimaginable, unconditional love. And now that I have the capacity to return the love my mother has always felt for me, it means so much more to say this: Mom, I love you.
Oh and here is a little video Cassi and I made for our kids' Gigi:
This was Addie's first REAL Easter, where she semi-cared about egg hunts and Easter baskets and sugar cookies. (She may have cared about sugar cookies last year, but we didn't ask.) So like dutiful parents, we filmed the full Easter morning experience. This is almost 10 minutes long, so if you're inclined, please enjoy:
The final winners are the spinning light-up toy, the Discovery Toys marble-works castle and the Beanie Babies bunny, which she keeps calling a puppy. Whatever. She'll figure it out one day.
Next, we prepped for church. Mike talked me out of making Addie dress up in the slightest, claiming that her nursery teachers would be the only ones to see her. It was true, but I was robbed of any hope of Easter pictures as an appropriately-attired Christian family. I didn't even take photos of us as an inappropriately dressed family. Poop.
Easter lunch was with the Brookses, plus several other families from Mike's school. The kids were rambunctious, the lunch was delicious and the company was capricious. (Not really... just ran out of alliterative adjectives.) But just as is any event with children (and sangria), it's a blur. Don't ask for details.
Mike and Matt
L to R: Shira, Ali, Bekah, Crissi, Emily
Photo credit goes to Rebekah Brooks. I hope you don't mind that I stole these.
