I knew this day would come. Caleb is finally old enough to play hockey league. We'd been preparing for this moment for more than two years. Ever since our almost three year old developed an obsession for hockey, and we started group ice skating lessons, we'd been working toward the collective end of one day playing hockey with a stick.
After a crash course in all things hockey, I now know how to tape a stick (thank you Youtube), and how to keep hockey socks up. Of course we went cheap on all of the equipment ... he is only five after all, but he is thrilled. He would wear it full-time if he could fit in his car seat all padded up, and if the elbow pads didn't itch and if he actually liked wearing a cup.
Now I find myself at the ice rink two hours a week -- on Monday's for mini mites practice, and on Saturday's for the weekly game. But this is only the beginning. Someday hockey may takeover our lives ... clinics, camps, traveling teams ... who knows what the future holds. I feel hockey mom-dom burgeoning.
Still I don't want to get too far ahead of myself. Although Caleb is holding his own, he is hardly a hockey prodigy. There are other kids that are much, much, much better. We don't know their story either. Caleb has been playing hockey for a month ... they could be older, or playing longer, or have parents that actually ice skate. Their parents could have been grooming their progeny for hockey since birth ... in fact we overheard one mom say to her son (who happens to be a fantastic skater), "in Russia we ice skated everyday and we didn't complain."
All that said, the most important thing right now is for Caleb to have fun, and he is having a blast.
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