H.M.O.Y.

I wonder if "high school aged Michele" ever dreamed that she'd grow up to be a Hockey Mom? Heck, who am I trying to kid. I think this is the exact look Michele would have given you then if you asked her if she saw herself hauling kids off to the rink or lacing them up herself.
This very exact look.
And here she is - winning the game. The Hockey Mom of the Year! The Hottest Hockey Mom of the Year! And she's such a good sport about it too. You know why? Because she see's how happy it makes her kids. I know being in the cold isn't her cup of tea. I know that sticks and pucks aren't the same as a basketball or a volleyball in a gym but I think this game is starting to grow on her.
And she's wearing it nicely. She's the cutest thing there ever was. Sitting politely in the stands cheering on our #17 and #5. Never anything negative out of her mouth and she's not loud or overbearing. She's solid, supportive and there...she's there for our kids and doing it with the help of some good friends and teammates...but mostly doing it by herself.
She's a Hockey Mom while the Hockey Dad is out seeking his way in the world.

And man, was this Hockey Dad ever happy to be home! I thought about, planned, rehearsed and dreamt about all the things I wanted to see and do while I was on break from the Tundra. And after Day #1 with my wife - none of it mattered. I had everything I had ever wanted - to be beside the woman of my dreams again. My first full day back, we dropped the kids off at school and headed out for some retail therapy. Arm in arm we pushed through the aisles of Fleet Farm and Kohl's, Target and the Outlet Mall. We giggled, flirted and laughed. I tried on more pants that day than I can remember as Michele shopped like it was her job. At one point while we were tallying up our 3rd or 4th hundred spent at the register Michele said, "I like shopping with the new you." Her humor is never wasted on me because there's always an air of truth. I was happy to be home and excited to spend a little cash on myself, my family and my wife.
Lunch at Don Julios was perfect - Queso and tortilla chips and a plate of Don Julios Burritos - one chicken and one beef...split equally between us...shared - side by side - with my best friend.

A friend of mine asked me over the phone, "Besides the uh, - you know - uh, obvious... how are things going with Michele?" His blunt question was appreciated. It's honesty was genuine. He wanted to know how we were doing. And the best I could come up with was - "It's like we haven't skipped a beat." Because that's how I felt the whole time home. Oh sure, there were a few things that were awkward or hard to remember -  turning on the dishwasher, garbage day?, how do you work this fancy new alarm clock? - but things between Michele and I were perfect. I was just so happy to be able to just look at her. To watch her. To listen to her. To be by her. But the business of raising our family and living day to day together was like we've been doing it for years. We have - more than thirteen really. So why would things be that much different? They weren't and that was perfect.

She is beautiful. Sweats, hair in a pony and slippers...fuzzy jammies and a dirty of WILD sweatshirt, or done up with hair and make-up on our way out for a night on the town - this girl is a catch! Another hockey Mom suggested the gals show some team spirit and come to the game in a festive holiday sweater. I'm glad they did. Michele is the most modest woman you'll ever meet and if she were here right now she'd say, "Oh shush." - But I can't. I just find myself staring at her all the time. Catching glimpses of her at random times. And that's when I think she's the prettiest woman I've ever seen - when she's just being her.

This adventure is tough It's tough on the dogs. It's tough on the kids and it's tough on me. I know it's gotta be tough on Michele but you'd never know it. She rarely lets on. She's a strong woman. So thoughtful and caring. She's intelligent and determined. She's got such a giving heart and a warm touch. Our kids have taken all the wonderful things that I like about their Mom and insured that those traits will go on to live another generation. I would have sworn that I was going to be marched right down to Val's Hair Studio and shorn like a sheep but Michele lived with my hair and beard... and I realized that she doesn't love my hair or my beard, my belly or my money. Michele loves me. And I love her.
And I just thought you should know that.

See ya in four, Five.