A Gold Star And A Beating

Problem Child has caught and consumed four mice this week. Four that I know of, at least, as that is the total number of sets of back feet and tails I have found lying on the tile floor in the morning. Apparently, front feet are tasty. Back feet and tails are crossing the line of good eats.

I don't know whether to be relieved that she is back on the hunt or totally creeped out that she is finding so many mice. I think both. I'm sure it's the change of seasons that is making them so bountiful - their friends probably told them this was a nice, warm place to bed down in the cold. Roomy. Plenty of mac and cheese boxes in the pantry to chew through. No killer cats to dodge - wait, whose back feet and tail are these? Jerry? Oh, Jerry!

Anyway, gold star for Problem Child.

So then who got the beating, you ask? That would be Fifth Grader. Not an actual beating, people - jeez - though she has reached a new adolescent milestone this week: her first grounding. She's growing up so fast...

Yes, we're having a little trouble respecting authority figures at the moment. Fortunately it is not ALL authority figures, just a few select ones. There have been some changes made to the after school program she attends a few days per week. Changes that are rubbing her the wrong way, whipping up a previously unseen defiant streak inside her and resulting in my standing with the program director for ten minutes at every pick-up time since school began listening to a report of how Fifth Grader wouldn't stop singing at quiet time, Fifth Grader wouldn't line up to go outside, Fifth Grader wouldn't put her snack away when told to do so a bazillion times. I can't say that I am thrilled with the military-school-like structure that is being implemented this year - particularly after five years of this child BEGGING me to be able to go to the after school program more often because it's so much fun - but this is where she must go some days. And my kids? Will not be those kind of kids. No freaking way. So - she is grounded until I get three glowing reports.

To her credit, after bawling hysterically for about twenty minutes, she seems to have taken ownership of the situation. She told me yesterday that she had warned all of her friends not to call her or email her, and - if they know what's good for them - not to have any birthday parties or sleepovers until she has delivered her three good reports.

This of course means that I will actually see her this weekend. Lucky for us, it's going to pour buckets for the next three days. If we score big, we may even lose power. Did I ground myself by mistake? Maybe I need more practice at this.