I am in *so* much trouble - and the hormones haven't even hit yet. Diva engaged in a full blown meltdown today. We're talking red face, spit flying, veins bulging. She brought home 5 papers with Fs on them. *FIVE*. And it wasn't because she didn't understand the concepts, it because she didn't do them!!! OMG, I was this close to blowing a gasket (which I rarely do anymore, thanks to intensive CD Board education, LOL). First it was "I don't know" (a major trigger in my book - don't tell me you don't know - you were *there*!!!) in response to what on this good earth is going on. Then it was "you don't know how hard it is - I can't do the work with the people I sit with because they're always talking and singing and I just caaaaaan't do it". I pointed out that I was *quite* sure that if was as bad as Diva states, Mrs. Teacher would've intervened. I mean, give me a break. Answering 1 multiple choice question out of 9???? So then it was "well it doesn't help that you always yell at me in the mornings and blah blah blah blah DRAMA". Sigh. She is afflicted with thank you's sense of seriously flawed perception. A stern tone of voice is "yelling" in her book. Heck, anything less than hearts and flowers and butterflies is "yelling". So I tell her she's grounded, not because of the Fs, but because I absolutely positively will not tolerate being yelled at by a 10-year-old. Ever. And she'd better get a grip because her grades are *hers* and she'd better get over blaming everyone and their mother for what she does. So she stomps upstairs, ranting and raving, "you hate me", "it's not fair", etc. I'm so not engaging in this garbage. So, I'm standing in our living room wondering if I will survive her adolescence (which is due to hit at the same time as my menopause, heaven help us all)... and I mutter to myself "just shoot me". To which my beloved daughter responds "Amen". Yeah, un-hunh - this is going to be *fun*.