Let’s Start From the Beginning…

My husband grew up skiing — in fact, he was on the U.S. Ski Team. So when our kids were born, I just assumed they would follow in his tracks. Both of them were on skis before they could practically walk, and it felt natural that skiing would be our family sport.

My son loved skiing, but when he was around 2 years old, something unexpected happened — he became obsessed with golf. Not the plastic-club, backyard kind of golf either. He wanted the real thing. Before long, he was swinging actual clubs and being asked to play real rounds of golf. We weren’t sure where it came from, since neither my husband nor I played, but it was clear he had found something he loved.

Then, at age 4, my husband took him to his first local hockey game. That was it — he was hooked. The speed, the energy, the excitement… it was like something clicked in him instantly. Before I knew it, I was signing him up for a hockey program, thinking, “Well, this will probably pass too.”

Boy, was I wrong.

What started as “just another activity” quickly became his whole world - and, in turn, ours too. I didn’t know the rules, the culture, or what it meant to be a “hockey parent.” Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But from that very first skate, hockey had its grip on him, and it’s been shaping our family’s story ever since.

Sometimes our kids’ passions take us places we never expected -and as parents, we learn that our job isn’t to steer them back to our plans, but to keep up with where their dreams are leading.

And soon, hockey would take us farther than I ever imagined -long road trips, endless practices, and entire seasons spent living out of hotels. That’s where the real adventure began…

Stay tuned for Post 2: The Travel Years.