Family. Friends. Fun. Fiasco.

Road trip. Sassy. Chick fil A. Anthropology. Cookie Cake. Dolls. Birthday Songs. Cake. Sparkly shoes. Shopping. Hotel Rooms. Bubble Gum. Girls. Tea Parties. Hair Styling. Early Birthday Party. Gifts. American Girl Store. Soda Pop. Earrings. Friends. Family. Fashion.

All the elements were there. Everything that a 7 year old could want for the perfect birthday celebration.

But here’s how it really went down.
After driving to another state, staying at a hotel, hauling the girls to American Girl Doll Store. Britton arrives and immediately we book a “hair appointment” for her baby doll, Molly. Braids – since they stylist said she cannot do much with “textured’ (aka frizzy) hair. Ear piercing scheduled too. Check.
After setting up a day of beauty for Molly, Britton gets some help from the sales staff on the perfect pair of red Mary Janes for her doll. Check.
Now onto the Bistro where we have a 9:15 am Birthday breakfast scheduled- complete with Chocolate/Vanilla cake, strawberry muffins, egg white omelets, Orange Juice, Espresso, toast and Sausage.
It is during breakfast that B dug her heels in the ground, crossed those arms of hers, and decided to see just how much of a pill she could be. With no remorse she went full steam ahead.
She went on to tell me that she didn’t want to be there, why was Kenley getting a doll, today wasn’t even her birthday (we had her party on Wednesday, drove up on Friday – her actual birthday, and went to American Girl Doll Store on Saturday)!
Keeping my “good parent always know what to do in these situations” in check, I removed her from the table, took her aside to the Just Like Me doll section displaying books and dolls- and in a calm Mom-like way told her, more ore less, to straighten her ass up or we were leaving.
Her arms crossed even tighter, she huffed a big huff, then rolled her eyes at me and said, “Blah Blah Blah, Yeah yeah whatever.”
I think the passer-byers could see the steam fuming from my face.
We went back to the strawberry muffin top table, where K was feeding her loaner baby doll (which was in a high chair at the table) tea from the tea cup.  A tea party for 3- less Britton.  She would have no part of this place. Mind you, she has been talking about this trip and looking at magazines for weeks.
Sassy even attempted to give B ‘a talkin’ to’ but to no avail.
I was at a cross road.
I could shrug it off, and make the most of the day. After all, we had driven from another state, paid for our hotel, and were already here for goodness sake.
I could use this opportunity to show this 7-thinks-she’s-17 daughter of mine that this behavior doesn’t fly on my watch.  Oh, but I really don’t want to leave and spoil the whole trip.
But left we did.
Not only did we leave the American Girl Doll store right after breakfast, but heck- why hang around Atlanta with Miss Ungrateful for another day. We went back to the JW Marriott and checked out of our hotel early, pretending that someone had the stomach bug.
Not a total lie- K pooped in every toilet between 319 and 285 she could find.
So now we have left the store, bought nothing (but thank you sweet Aunt Shea for the AGD gift certificate), and not leaving the city altogether.
The trip I had been planning for months (reservations had to be made months in advanced because the bistro books up) is a total bust- and I had wanted it to be perfect for B.
I thought for sure once we went back to the car, I would get tears and apologizes, and we would be back inside in no time. No such luck. Did I mention how strong willed my first born is? Stronger than me even. 
She gave me a un-hearty sorry without eye contact, and that same… tone. I told her I accepted her apology but we were still leaving because that is the consequence of her choices.
She snaps back at me, “Why did you make me apologize then if we still were gonna leave? I take it back!”
In an effort to redeem the trip, I must confess we did stop at Scott’s Antique Mall for a few hours or browsing. I told B she better not open her mouth, that this was MY TIME and I was DONE celebrating her birthday.  Her birthday was over.
Yea Yea whatever. I don’t care was  the response I got.  Which ticked me off even more. Wasn’t she even sorry.
So as Saturday evening comes around, and we are back at home explaining to a concerned Mr. Robinson what the heck happened to make us come home EARLY from an all girls birthday trip, I FINALLY get a remorseful Britton at 9 pm that night. When she comes into the living room with large tears in her eyes and says, “I’m sorry I ruined our trip to the American Girl Doll store by me being grumpy. Maybe for my 8th  birthday we can go back and I can buy the red shoes”. She got it- what a relief. She does still have the empathy in her that I love so much.
But sweet child, do not hold your breath. We will not be going back any time soon.