Breaking the ice: My journey into hockey culture

As I sit here in a cramped hotel room, struggling with a patchy Wi-Fi connection, I can’t help but reflect on how I ended up in this peculiar situation. My kids are off at a hockey camp, and I’m racing against the clock to finish my work so I can join the other hockey parents for dinner. It’s a far cry from where I was a year ago, debating if I even wanted to endure a freezing season.

Becoming a hockey mom began with a spontaneous decision. Our kids, having declared themselves retirees from their latest athletic escapade, were on the lookout for a new activity when a flyer advertising a free hockey clinic caught their eye. Serendipity.

The clinic was a hit with the kids, and while they were having fun, the program coordinator gently nudged my spouse and I toward signing our kids up for structured sessions. These sessions, which included ‘learn to skate’ and ‘learn to play’ practices, made hockey seem manageable. The sessions were weekly, and our kids were provided rental gear.

The accommodations didn’t last long. As we naively cheered from the chilly stands, our kids fell further and further enamored with the sport. And we began to understand the full extent of what we were getting into. Here are just a few lessons gleaned thus far.