|Our old tribal outfits that we still have, though missing a few patches. I think my Native American grandmother made my dress :)|
One of my most favorite memories that I've been so looking forward to sharing is some special time I had with my dad growing up.
The YMCA had (not sure if they still do) a super cool outdoors program where moms and sons or dads and daughters could get together with other moms/sons dads/daughters and form a tribe. Since I did it with my dad, we were in the Indian Princesses program. Once a month or so, we'd pack up all of our gear and head out to go camping and meetup with all of the other dads and princesses in our tribe. Our tribe was the mighty, mighty Sioux and naturally, we had songs to learn to say so :) This was yet another awesome experience that helped shape my future and strengthen my relationship with my dad. I am so grateful my parents thought to do this.
We would have state wide camp-outs a few times a year where we'd meet up with thousands of other tribes, not just dads and daughters, and have lots of competitions, tribal dances, and so much more. We would do fun relays where we had to go minnow fishing in a bucket, carry an egg on a spoon, and flip fake pancakes in a skillet all the way down the line and back. Overall, it was fantastic camaraderie and great for the dads to hang out and the girls to as well.
After a year or two in the program, my dad was nominated by the others in the tribe to be the chief. Seriously, it was very Native American like. So, he accepted the honor. Oh, I forgot to mention we had Indian names as well. My dad's first name was "Water Buffalo" and mine was "Little Rainbow Star." Hilarious. Over time, that would change and I'm not sure why it did, but I think when my dad assumed tribal chief, both he and I had to change our names. Interesting. Anyway, I was convinced I was a speedster and also owned a pet rabbit I adored. Thus, my name became Swift Rabbit. My dad well...
For whatever reason, my dad decided one day to make a huge fire in our fire pit. It got a little out of control and started falling onto the ground around the pit. So, naturally he stomped on it to put the flame out. Problem is, it went straight up his pants, melted his shoe, and was a point of laughter for many years. After this incident, he was called Flaming Buffalo. Really, really funny.
I'm sad to know we live in an era where a lot of parents don't take the time to do such things like we did back in the day. It truly made a huge difference in my life being able to have this special time with my dad.