It may still be February on the calendar and the NHL hockey season is at its peak, but our minor hockey schedule is winding down. We are now entering our last two weeks of the regular season before playoffs begin. I know for a fact I’m not the only hockey mom who is silently whispering to herself, “Oh, thank God!”
I can just hear the hockey scarf-clad, noisemaker-toting, photo button-wearing, hand-clapping, foot-stomping hockey mom riot police knocking at my door calling me a blasphemous traitor, but it’s true. My hockey mom mojo is sinking faster than the Colorado Avalanche’s playoff hopes.
Ok, settle down. The riot police can take their signs and go home. Like all hockey moms, I know that no matter what I have to keep my optimism and enthusiasm at a sudden-death overtime level – not for me but for my young hockey players. I happen to have a few key strategies to keep me smiling through the dark days of the end of season despair. Here’s what I do …
I buy a really fancy coffee. That’s right. Instead of my usual homebrew coffee in a hockey mom travel mug, I buy a full fat something-I-can’t-pronounce coffee brewed at a mysterious and vague temperature for no apparent reason topped with fancy sprinkles. I pay triple what I usually pay for coffee because I’m worth it and my hockey player needs me to be turbo caffeinated and ready to go! Woo-hoo!
I watch that commercial on You-Tube. You know the one: it comes out during every Olympics and sometimes even during the World Juniors. It’s that one where it takes someone strong to raise someone strong. It’s by that company that is the Official Proud Sponsor of Moms. It gets me every time. Sniff. Anyone have a tissue? But it does the trick and makes me hug my hockey player and tell them to go out there and kill someone – I mean – play their best. Yeah!
I take a good long look at my seam ripper. Oh yes - that weapon of name bar destruction. Eight months ago I painstakingly and patiently sewed those name bars on multiple game jerseys. It won’t be long now before I can take that sucker and riiiiiip them off. It’s very cathartic. I’m looking forward to it.
I plan a dinner out. I plan a little post-hockey game dinner at a fun family favourite restaurant with another hockey family. Not a big tournament-worthy, top-shelf, ‘seventeen players and their families and siblings’ event; just a simple get together, where the hockey moms don’t cook and the hockey dads don’t clean up. It doesn’t always have to be about the kids – the grown-ups can have fun too.
I put on my bathing suit. You know the minute hockey season is over, summer is just around the corner. And that means so is bathing suit season. Oh my Lord. Suddenly I’m okay with my black turtleneck, jeans, boots, triple-layer socks and long winter coat. In fact, I’m pretty cozy after all, thank you.
There. I feel better already. I think I now have enough hockey mom mojo to get me at least to the playoffs. And as we all know, the playoffs are a whole different pile of pucks. Anything can happen!
Three cheers for the hockey moms at the end of the season – may your mojo spilleth over!
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