I was a little concerned with how the morning would go, because I still had to get both kids out the door, and we needed to leave even earlier than the average work day. We got through it, but not without sacrifice (so much for taking a shower). The promise of going to Nana’s for the day was enough to persuade Sofia into a fresh set of clothing, with only a few reminders required to get her teeth brushed and hair combed into a pony tail. The great thing about going to Nana’s house is I don’t even need to feed the kids breakfast first. Eldest dressed and hygiene taken care of, baby changed and into something warmer (damn it was colder this morning), bottles…bottled, and we were on our way! Oh yeah. Kind of important, while I was doing this Tony was packing the clubs in the van. Drop the kids off, hit the road, and I start to ask my normal post-take-off questions that my husband just LOVES to hear. You know, the kind that do us absolutely no good considering we’re already on the way:

Did you put jar food in Dominic’s bag?
Do you have your phone?
Do you have money?
Did you make sure my shoes are in the van?

Tony utters a small expletive and slams on the breaks. Yes, he had remembered to check for my golf shoes. He had not remembered to transfer his shoes from his car to mine. Back to the house, grab the shoes, then back on the road again. We’re still surprisingly doing OK on time, so we pit stop off the highway to the Dunkin’ Donuts in Pawtucket. I’m trying to be good and stick to my diet, so I ask for a medium iced coffee, skim milk, three splenda and a wheat bagel, as is. Instead I get a wheat bagel toasted (with nothing on it….mmmm dry bagel, very appetizing), and even though Tony argues with me that it’s fine, an iced coffee with either NOT skim milk, or too much skim milk because it was a very cream looking drink. As I start to complain about these things Tony pulls away and it’s far too late when I realize that the Be-otch also didn’t give me a straw. DAMN!!! How hard is it to complete an order of two drinks and a bagel, that if she had done right she only needed to bag???

As I’m pouting and bitching about my bagel, Tony realizes that he went the wrong way to the course because he forgot the exit that used to be there off of Rte 10 no longer exists. One of the many great perks of the Ocean State. The next exit and several turns later, we’re in a not so great area of North Providence with no bearings on where we are or how to get to the course. NOW we’re going to be late. Eventually find our way back to the highway, turn around because we were going the wrong way on the highway, and we’re back on track. Only 5 minutes past the tee time. We have just enough time to go to the club house to grab a straw and we’re on the tee (thank you to Erin and Smitty for getting our green fees covered and cart ready to go). By this point stress levels are a cranking. It’s 9:15, and I’m already wanting beer.

I don’t get beer until 11:30, by which point I have remembered just how much having children has completely ruined my skills. I used to golf every week. I used to be half way decent. I now suck. The problem is, I forget that I now suck, so when I exhibit said suckage, it is always some how of great surprise to me. I end up aggravated and flustered, slamming my clubs, and wondering why I am even bothering. This is the same person that was talking all week about how much I was looking forward to this self torture. WTF was I thinking?

I did eventually settle down and laugh at myself (thank you sweet nectar). What was a rainy morning turned into a pretty nice day. I took some time to enjoy the sights of nature. Two enormous hawks got their asses kicked by tiny birds with balls the size of coconuts and unwavering focus to save their young. Some very loud bull frogs called out to each other…although that may have been to bitch about the ball I had just sent flying into their pond. And the soft breeze and sway of the trees reminded me of just how much I love to be out there. Even with my way too many swings to get that little white ball into all 18 of those incredibly small holes. I wonder how many tee times I can get my mom to baby sit during when we go to Myrtle next month.