How to be a hockey mom.

If you're looking for a political commentary, click away. This post is going to be a few dos and don'ts for real live hockey moms, in hopes that moms, dads, grandparents and any others involved in hockey or other sports may learn something.

Let me preface this post by saying I have not put a lot of thought into this, and I am certainly no expert. I've made my mistakes as a sports mom through the years. Perhaps there's something about hockey that attracts a specific breed. Or maybe it's the added stress the sport puts on your wallet, but a good hockey mom learns to manage that stress and deal with other issues, like when your kid doesn't get much ice time.

The number one rule of being a hockey mom: the MOM part, and the examples you set are WAY MORE important than the HOCKEY part. Here are a few specific dos and don'ts.

1. Ice time is not a birth right. It's something a hockey player earns. If you want your kid to have more ice time, it is YOUR responsibility to make sure he has the skills he needs. DO invest in plenty of practice time, camps, private lessons, whatever your kid needs. Otherwise, he will sit on the bench more than you'd like to see.

2. If you think your kid deserves more ice time, DON'T tell the coach he's stupid. That will not result in your son getting more ice time. Guaranteed.

3. DON'T leave it up to your teenage son to get to practice at 5:30 a.m. on his own. Get up and take him. If he shows up only every other time or shows up 15 minutes late or without a helmet or without all the equipment he needs, he's not going to get more ice time.

4. DO understand that although you can buy your way on to a team, there is no guarantee your kid will play as much as you want or even as much as the other kids on the team.

5. If you want your kid to play, DO take him to open hockey, drop-in hockey, private lessons, camps, spring training, buy him a net and a shooting pad, encourage him to practice. Support him by helping him get better. The better your kid is, the more time he'll play.

6. DO NOT isolate yourself from the other parents. If we don't know who you are, you don't bring your kid to practice or you don't come to the games, we can't tell you about all the opportunities for your son to get private lessons, open hockey, drop-in hockey, and more practice time, etc., etc.

7. DO come to practice. This is where you see exactly where your kid's skills stand up to other kids. It's where it becomes blindingly obvious whether or not your kid has what it takes or doesn't. If he doesn't, get him some more practice, camps, private lessons, put him on a second or even a third team to get the ice time. If you aren't willing to do some of this, or you really can't afford it, save your money and pull him off the ice altogether.

8. DON'T let your kid get involved in hockey unless you are ready to make some sacrifices yourself. Hockey is more than writing checks. It's spending time with your kid in the car on the way to practice, and before and after games. It's talking about what went right and wrong, about the other kids he's spending time with, about what camps, extra ice time, and additional practice he might need or about how much he's improved and how proud you are of him.

9. Hockey gives you great opportunities to talk about real life lessons like anger management, fairness, safety, nutrition, hygiene...even the importance of good grades. It's an opportunity to forge a bond with your kid that you will never regret. It's certainly worth a little lost sleep and the time it takes.

10. Finally, if you have something to say to the coach, do it in private. Do it calmly. Don't stand in the middle of the rink lobby and start pointing your finger and screaming. Calmly make an appointment to talk to the coach. Hockey coaches are great people. They know more about your kid and his ability to play hockey than you do. They don't mince words, they will tell you exactly why your kid doesn't get ice time. Coaches are about more than winning, they like to develop players. They like to see kids improve. Yelling at the coach won't buy your kid any favors.

That's it. I'm sure there's more. Like I said, I'm no expert. But in the four or five years I've been involved in hockey I've learned a few things. It can be a great sport, or it can be an agonizing sport. As with everything in life, you get out what you put in.

"Kids do the darndest things." (No wonder all my stuff needs repair.)

My kids recently made the mistake of leaving some of their home videos on my camera. When I went to download a couple of photos, I found some interesting things. This was something they apparently thought would make it on YouTube. They never got a chance. Instead, they were banned from using the golf cart (for a while). As my husband says, "Boys will be boys." My suggestion to them is to delete the evidence. It's not good when Mom sees stuff like this.

"Hey, Mom, we killed a snake in your office!"

I've lived in Texas for nearly ten years. Before I moved here, we had a going away party, and a client of mine brought a date who just went on and on about how she hated Texas because of the snakes.

She told stories of them climbing through the air conditioning ducts, and I'll admit she had me a bit freaked out. So one of the first things I did with my boys (who were little guys of 4 and 7 at the time) was make an education lesson out of an early trip to the Tyler Zoo. We went in the reptile house and learned everything we needed to know about snakes in Texas. (Basically what I learned was that if their head is shaped like an arrow, it IS poisonous.) Most snakes in Texas, I learned, were not poisonous, although some can grow to a relatively large size, and they all freak me out.

That visit to the reptile house aside, over the years, I have had very few encounters with snakes. My kids, by nature of being boys running around near a lake, and at friend's homes in the country, have seen more snakes than I. But we lived on the lake for eight years, and in that time I think we had one tiny snake in our breezeway, one (maybe two) tiny snakes in our swimming pool, and one or two instances where I saw a BIG snake in the lake or on our beach. I would say that's a fairly low snake siting incidence for that many years.


I got home from somewhere on Sunday to find out that my oldest son and his friend had killed a snake. Not in a field near our house. Not somewhere in the woods on the golf course. They had killed a snake IN MY OFFICE.


Now I wasn't home, thank goodness, but my husband insists that this particular snake probably took up residence last week when I had the door to my office wide open. There was a great breeze last Thursday, and I was having a meeting here, and I had opened the door to let the breezes and the sunshine flow freely in. I did not invite that snake. If the snake came in on Thursday, that means it was in here with me on Friday when I was working. I was in and out of the office a little on Saturday, with the snake, and then on Sunday my son came out to play the drums or lift weights or who knows what, and stepped on it.

Fortunately, my son's friend, our next door neighbor, was here, and he knew just what to do. He went to the kitchen to the knife block, grabbed a cleaver, came back to the office, and chopped the snake's head off. I am so glad I was not here, and I'm so glad I've never used (and will never use) that cleaver.

Now before you get this horrible picture in your head (like I did), understand that this snake was maybe 10 inches long and skinny. But it had fangs, and my husband said the mouth was still moving up and down when he picked up the head, but what shape the head was, I do not know. The boys were all to happy to kill it. Cleaning it up responsibilities went to my spouse. I'm just glad it happened on a weekend, because I did not have to see it or clean it up.

Anyway, now while I'm writing news releases and optimizing web copy, and conferencing with clients, I'm also looking over my shoulder. I often go outside to get some air and to proofread, and now I'm looking for snakes before I even take my first step out. It's a little freaky. I have a small foot stool under my desk where I keep my feet now -- up off the floor. I know snakes can slither up the legs of anything, but in case there was more than one...in case that little guy had a brother or sister, or heaven forbid a whole nest of brothers and sisters, I've got my eyes peeled.

I'm not sure why I'm sharing it. I guess it's on my mind. I don't think they deal with this sort of thing in corporate America, do they?