What It's Really Like to Be a Hockey Mom

Sarah Palin is the world's most famous "hockey mom" - a big vote-winner with the mothers of some 350,000 American hockey-playing young people. In the UK, though, the term means nothing to most of us. Only a minority of kids play ice hockey. Unfortunately, that now includes my 10-year-old daughter Miranda.

To begin with I was rather thrilled with the idea of something so offbeat, and Miranda was bowled over: the ice, the speed, the padded body armor. The helmet with built-in facial cage. The "pelvic box" to protect her ovaries from a lethal flying puck.

Then the club secretary sidled up. "It's a big deal, being a hockey mum," she said sternly. "Are you sure you're cut out for it?"

It took a while for the full horror to dawn. First, the cost. The gear has so far set me back at least £500 and playing fees are £600 a year. But this is dwarfed by the time and dedication required. Hockey moms, I am assured every week as I stand freezing by the ice for two hours, only exist for their kids' involvement in the sport. Not me, I want to scream: I've got a full-time job and three other children (in fact, Sarah Palin is the only hockey mom I've ever heard of with more kids than me).

But ice hockey seems designed to reinforce traditional stereotypes (Palin critics, take note). Each week by the rink I see rows of boys sitting passively while their mothers lace up their boots. When I told Miranda to get her own kit on, I was admonished by another "mom" who said I had to tie her boots or she might fall over. When I asked if I could deposit her for Saturday's match and collect her after, I was eyed as some kind of traitor. "The team needs our support!" said my fellow hockey mom. "We've all got to holler!"

Now, Sarah Palin may have the time, the money and the commitment for all this, but I fear it's got me beat. I'm dreaming of the day Miranda decides to quit. Mind you, when I said that to a fellow "mom", she laughed. "The kids who do this, they never give up!"