Random thoughts generated during a weekend of four away hockey games

Glad I got, for $3 at W.M., a tote bag big enough to hold a couple of blankets and extra mommy stuff. If I add another bag, maybe I can become that mommy -- you know, the one you turn to when you need a band-aid, or an aspirin, or a Swiss Army knife, or a portable washing machine.

I need a portable washing machine if we're going to come home from one of these weekends and still have clothes to wear on Monday.

Getting audiobooks on Playaway from our library was perfect; when Alpha reads a book in print, she feels the need to synopsize every chapter for me. But plugged in, she just listened, and I had peace and quiet for at least some of that 3-hour round trip.

Couldn't call Mr. Sane for Beta's hockey score when Alpha and I were an hour and a half away because I had his cell phone. Times like this tempt me to get my own, but then people would call me on it, and I'd regret it.

Some of the legendary hockey-mom camaraderie comes from shared hardship (e.g., getting up at an ungodly hour on a weekend to drive your kids to a game hours away); some of it comes from being the only familiar faces to one another hours away from home. Some of it comes from knowing you're not alone when non-hockey moms ask you, "Are you nuts?"

Just how on earth is a quart a "Medium" soft drink? (It even said "Medium" on the Hardee's cup.) If you ask for a "Large," do they just hand a 2-liter bottle out the drive-thru window?

One of these days I'm going to stop at that outlet mall, particularly since I've now been told there's an awesome chocolate shop there.

It's just as well I didn't have time this weekend. I have to remember that if I don't save my WW weekly points, there is nothing I can reasonably eat at a rink concession stand. That said, I'm sure there were healthier choices than the fried dough with cinnamon sugar. (But, boy, was it good.)

If you ignore the Mapquest/Google/Yahoo/GPS directions, the rink that is "really hard to find" becomes really easy to find. (Though, credit to the above, we found the easy way by looking at their maps & satellite images. We just didn't slavishly adhere to taking the shortest or fastest route. Really -- three extra turns in under a mile in an area where parts of streets don't connect any more runs a good chance of getting you lost by more than one minute and 0.3 mi.)

Why don't we have a sculpture of our mascot in front of our rink? *pout*

Beta plays Mite C, which I think is the absolute lowest level of travel hockey possible, and, if anything, I think that as the season goes on, her games are becoming less like actual games and more like Brownian motion rather than the reverse. It's awfully cute, though, to see little guys who can barely stay upright on skates try out their goal-scoring celebration dance.

Thank goodness the girls have pizza lunch at school tomorrow, so I don't have to get up early and make lunches.

Oh, drat -- I agreed to help serve pizza lunch.