I really haven’t felt like a hockey mom this year. Don’t worry, my children haven’t stopped playing hockey or any such atrocity, so no need to call child services or the Canadian Mounted Police or whomever is called in for such crimes. Everyone here still plays hockey. I promise.
I think it was that I just didn’t have a hockey mom sisterhood on any of the kids’ teams. They were mostly new faces and it has taken me until a few weeks ago to make friends. And by friends I mean determine people’s names and which child they belong to. And if they are crazy. Most of them are crazy. I’m ok with that. Usually I am a pro at the friends making thing. I blame my aggressively outgoing personality on my parents, naturally. Not because of genetics but because they loved to up and move the family around at any old time and I changed schools a lot. Were we in the military? Umm, no. More like gypsies…just kidding. My parents were actually pioneers. They were the original house flippers, before it was trending. I should write a blog about my parents and their chronic early adapting, we were also the first to have a Laser Disc player. They were flipping houses before there were reality shows dedicated to the topic.
But I digress. Years later, here I am with all new hockey moms to meet on three different teams and I have been a disaster. I have a feeling I’ve given off the total wrong impression. The first issue is I haven’t been on the email list for any of the teams. Now all parents know that if you aren’t on the email list, you may as well be dead. You are just as out of the loop. Especially in Mites. Mite parents love nothing more than to “reply all” the living hell out of an email chain. Make inside jokes. Invite the whole team to birthday parties. Arrange coaches’ gifts. My husband gets all the emails, but I am the Mite mom. I am always with our Mite. So I always have no effing clue what anyone at the rink is talking about! Secondly I work a lot now. So I tend to show up at the older kids’ rink still dressed in my work clothes and ask pathetic questions like: when do they get off the ice? I know these new people think I am like an anti-hockey mom. It was only till one of them mentioned they might be on a hockey parent reality show that I blurted out “I have a blog.”
This is the last weekend of the hockey season, for the most part. I am almost comfortable enough to write about breaking into the hockey mom, dare I say Muffia? I’ve been nervous to share, but everyone knows the first rule of Muffia: there is no Muffia. So what’s the harm? I promise it’s coming soon. I have a whole season to dish on and a few weeks before lacrosse starts.