Tag Archives: parenthood

Oklahoma culture

On Being a Bear

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by Joey Rodman

There was a time when my youngest would tell people that when she grew up, she was going to be a bear. She did not mean that she would dress up like a bear, or that she would be aggressive, or that she would marry someone and change her last name to “Bear”….she meant she would literally become a bear. If you pressed her a bit she would tell you that she was going to be a “Brown Bear” like in Eric Carle’s book. She was 2.

I often became annoyed with people who would tell her that she could not, in fact, “be a bear” when she grew up. I felt like either she already knew this on some level and they were underestimating her intelligence, or she really did believe people could become bears and they were squashing her childhood wonder. I often battled back and forth between these two poles in my anger toward the idiots who would say “people can’t be bears.”  This was amplified by the fact that just about any of them would turn around a few minutes later and tell that she could be “whatever she wanted to be” when she grew up.

The child wanted to be a bear. I was not going to tell her she couldn’t. I was interested in finding out how she planned to do this.

She is now 7 and if you ask her what she wants to be when she grows up she will tell you that it is “a stupid question.”  Everyone knows, or should, that “…she is queen of the world. While she’s not technically ‘in office’ at the time being, her existence is not predicated on popular opinion of her political power. She is queen of the world. When she is older, everyone will realize this. Right now, we’re all too stupid to ‘get it’ and for that she pities us.”

She is told over and over by any adult around her (save her father and me) that she can’t “grow up and be queen of the world” because it’s not possible. There is no queen of the world. She will of course explain to them that not only is there a queen of the world, but they’re looking at her right now.

I tell you this because I think it’s a symptom of our bigger problem. Not only do we think that things are the way they are because they are “supposed to be that way” but we fail to imagine that anything will really ever drastically change. This type of willful amnesia annoys me the most.

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Man Cave, Relationships

Real Men and Tea Parties

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No, this post has nothing to do with a powerful political movement that’s sweeping our country. It’s about something way more important. A totally different kind of tea party.

As the father of a beautiful three-month old little girl, I just want to make sure I’ve covered all my bases in writing about what actually constitutes a real man should I ever receive an invitation from my daughter to attend a tea party (imagined or otherwise) that she’s hosting. That said, a real man is willing to sit down for a tea party with his daughter.

By attending a tea party as the honored guest of his daughter, a real man models for her the kind of man she should be interested in dating when she is of courting age.

The only other important thing I can add to this discussion at this time is this: a real man always remembers to stick his pinky out.

[michael]

Faith, Woman2Woman

Livin’ On A Prayer and the Sage Advice of Garth Brooks

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When I’m old and gray (ahem, grayer, that is), I hope to look back on my life and reflect on an abundance of incredible experiences and accomplishments.  I’ve prayed my way through 33 1/2 years and God has been faithful to bless me with far more than I deserve.  However, this same life has included and will include many more prayers that go unanswered, at least in the way I desire or expect.

If you’re an Okie, you probably remember a time when Garth Brooks was on everyone’s radar.  I was never a huge country music fan, but I can sing along with a few little ditties when I hear them.  One song that I remember vividly is “Unanswered Prayers.”  If you’re not familiar with the song, Garth sings about running into his old high school flame and recalls how hard he prayed for this girl to be his forever.  While he is filled with nostalgia at seeing her again, he has gained enough perspective to know that his life worked out in the best way possible despite his one-time efforts to convince God otherwise.  He goes on to express his thankfulness for the gifts in his life, including the woman who eventually stole his heart, became his wife and showed him the importance of trusting God at all times.

By the way, when I started writing this blog, I did not remember the controversy with Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood.  So do me a favor and put that bit of information aside so I don’t have to go back to the drawing board on this post, mmmkay?  Geez, what is it with people and their inability to stay faithful?  But that’s an essay for a different day.

Where was I?  Oh yes, the inspirational song.  I was touched by the song and have always admired people who are able to easily put issues and events into perspective.  I am not one of them.  I can remember many times when I didn’t get what I was clearly the most important thing I’d ever asked for in my entire life.  Time and time again, I responded with anger and disbelief.  In not so many words I said to God, “You said ‘Ask and you shall receive,’ right?  Well?????”  I shed tears over a great many “must haves” that did not become my reality…..boys, leadership positions, jobs, etc.

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Man Cave

A Man’s Ode to Sleeping In

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Inspired by a friend’s ode to his pickup truck, I decided to give an ode to something in my life that has been with me through thick and thin but that has, in fact, seen better days as of late. – M&M

Oh sleeping in… what a cruel cruel mistress you’ve been to me through the years. We’ve seen it all together, that is, as long as “all” occurred after 11 a.m.

I remember when I was just a wee lad, a school boy if you will, and my dad resorted to using a spray bottle to separate us as we lay there in my bed basking in the glory that was our time together. I may have been on time to school, but I never forgot you through the day because I knew you’d always be there for me the next morning.

In the summertime of my tween years, my parents instituted a 10 a.m. cut-off time on our blissful slumber together. I remember my mom calling from work around that time each morning to make sure I was out of bed. I must have been a bad liar or your influence on me was just too much, because she’d always know when we’d been together. Maybe she could hear it in my voice.

Either way, I’d leave you each day for a fun-filled afternoon of MTV’s beach house, little league baseball, or swimming in our above-ground pool. But then, like the bride of a soldier who awaits the return of her husband from battle, you were there waiting for me when I finally made my way back to our bed each night.

During high school, you never made me late for class, but you were the reason I rarely ate breakfast. It was you who made me forsake ironing my clothes. It was you who pushed me into the arms of hooded sweatshirts, nylon warm-up suits, and gym shorts. It was you who made me defy the normal limits of driving speed set by local authorities just to make it to class on time. And yet, I never complained because our love affair was deep and it was true.

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