So, on Sunday, Rob and I agreed that we really needed to something together as a family. Leila has been seeing a lot of the neighbor kid, which is normally a huge relief, but we felt like we hadn't seen our kid in a while, and the two of them were starting to snipe at each other like old married people. Leila proclaimed that she wanted to do something "big" like go to the zoo, the Academy of Sciences, or the Exploratorium, all in San Francisco. A lot to ask from a kid with no job. We said no way josé, because who on earth wants to go to any of these places on a beautiful weekend? and later we realized that not only was it pride weekend, but also there was a huge concert in the park. I think I would have rather spent the day cleaning my bathroom than braving city streets on this particular weekend, and we all know that I would rather spend a day in prison than clean my bathroom.
So we decided to go to the beach. Not a bad deal, right? The beach! Who doesn't love the beach? Apparently, little miss pain-in-my-ass doesn't like the beach because she started laying down all the conditions under which she would submit herself to a trip to the beach, like that she had to bring a friend, like that she didn't want to walk on the beach, like there had to be ice cream involved. And this was after her disappointed whining that she didn't want to go to the beach at all. Probably because it doesn't involve spending my money.
So, I lost my shit, as moms sometimes do, and I gave her the old, "There are children your age working in factories!! Working 12 hours a day! Earning money for their families! Taking care of their younger siblings! Living in huts! I ASK YOU FOR NOTHING! And when we say you're going to the beach, you WILL GO! And you wont RUIN IT for the rest of us!!" I left out the "you spoiled little bitch!" part, even thought that's what I was thinking.
Then, while Leila was sufficiently scared of the crazy lady in the kitchen and went to get ready for the beach, I got the business from Rob about maybe not yelling and going nuts. I wanted to yell at him and go nuts again! So I gave him the old, "You're not here all week, driving her to and fro, entertaining her friends, getting grief every time you need to go on an errand and her highness doesn't feel like it, and you don't have to drop everything you're doing and make a grilled cheese sandwich only to hear that one side is over done so its inedible, and you don't have to hear her whine every time she doesn't get her way!" And then I was all, "I know you want only happy family harmony when you're home, but I GET TO YELL WHEN I FEEL LIKE YELLING!"
I also added that yelling works. I don't yell often. In fact, I think I should yell more, but when I yell and lose it and call her ungrateful, she does whatever I say for about 48 hours. Totally worth the rise in blood pressure. Weren't you just a little bit afraid of your parents? Mine scared the living shit out of me.
We went on to a have a completely lovely day at the beach. Even Leila said it was fun, and if I had only told her we were going to walk the dog on the beach, she wouldn't have thrown a fit. Lying sack...