Special, Hockey

In the couple of weeks since Jack and I have been back from his special hockey tournament, I’ve been doing a good amount of thinking about why it was so meaningful for me. There are a lot of reasons. It was great fun, it was amazing to see some exciting hockey, there was amazing sportsmanship on display, and it was incredible to watch all these athletes be celebrated for something most people probably assume they couldn’t do.

But I think the biggest reason that four days resounded with me was because of the community I felt on the trip.

I wrote yesterday at Hopeful Parents about this very thing: A Place Without Edges

I also wrote this morning about Jack’s team at Autism Unexpected.

If you’re new here and are interested in reading more about Jack’s hockey team, the Montgomery Cheetahs, following are links to what I’ve written about them.

Officially a Hockey/Soccer Mom The story of Jack’s first hockey practice. And Sam’s first soccer game.

Play Ball! Wait, No. That Doesn’t Work. Play…Puck? Jack’s first hockey game and a lesson in binary counting.

Finding His Place A month into hockey season, I started to see how important it was to Jack.

Hockey, Autism, and a Shameless Plea Wherein I asked you to donate money to the Cheetahs. If you have money burning a hole in your pocket, the information in this post is still valid. :)

Here We Go, Cheetahs, Here We Go! Oh crap. I committed Jack and I to a bus trip to Boston.

A Part of Something The first day of Jack and my trip to his special hockey tournament was profoundly moving for me.

It Was the Best of Times, It Was the Worst of Times The whole story of our trip to the Special Hockey International Tournament in Boston.

Things I Learned in Boston Observations from a four-day road trip with Jack.

Family Skate Night, a.k.a. Thunderdome This is the night all the families of the Cheetah players try to pretend that they can skate too.

More information about the Montgomery Cheetahs, the American Special Hockey Association, and Special Hockey International.

Okay. I Know This Looks Bad.

“Write About It: How did you decide your answer for Problem 7?”

“Mom told me the answer.”

Dammit, Jack! That little jerk totally ratted me out to his teacher, but IN MY DEFENSE, I did NOT tell him the answer. He was going to pick “moon” as the answer and that wasn’t right, so I asked him if there might be another answer that might fit better.

Jack already dictates the answers to a lot of his math problems, so I’m afraid that with this new evidence, the teacher is now going to think that I sit down in the evening with a freshly sharpened pencil and a can of beer and do subtraction regrouping while Jack eats candy and rips up fraction bars.

I’m just going to keep my big mouth shut from now on. Enjoy your morning sunset, Jack.