i have become her. the hockey mom. the lady who loads up her explorer with bags bigger than her body, with boys who are not my own, with plenty of snacks, gameboys and gameboy batteries for the road. i drive 80 miles twice a week for practice, and sometimes again for scrimmages on saturday. i get to listen to little boys talk about butts, tooting, spiderman, super mario ( did i mention tooting?) for the entire 80 miles.

when we get to the ice arena, a FROZEN metal building full of steel bleachers, concrete floors and ICE, i spend approximately 20 minutes on my hands and knees putting hockey gear on wiggly little boy bodies. we're talking chest pads, elbow pads, gloves, shin guards, hockey socks, breezers, sock belts, skates, jerseys, helmets and mouth guards. skates gotta be pulled extra tight. ears can't be bent inside the helmet. socks will fall down without the sock belts. it's all very, very complicated. i had no idea that hockey was such an exhausting sport. i'm seriously sweating by the time i'm done getting them dressed.

then the little dudes take to the ice. my husband happens to be called Coach out there, and he's got about 20 buddies who think he rocks the world. you can tell the kids who don't have daddies in their lives, they're the ones who follow him with hungry eyes and linger just a little longer than the others. as i watch them skate, i realize the important role coaches play in the lives of our children. their words can seriously make or break a kid. as a bona fide hockey mom, i'm glad my husband has taken on the title. watching those boys skate with him makes the 80 miles, the frozen building and the insane amount of gear worth the trip.

being a hockey mom is cool. but being a hockey wife is even cooler.