No one told me that by grounding my kid, I effectively ground myself too. As a kid, I didn't care about getting grounded; my preferred activity was hanging out in my room reading anyway. But as a grownup, it really bites. Whatever plans I had for the time that Miss G was supposed to be busy elsewhere over the weekend were switched out for being a warden instead.
Miss G is a great kid with lots of cheerful enthusiasm but crappy impulse control. Her common sense is slowly expanding with age, but she's just so GO GO GO, sometimes she can't stop in time. I'm terrified this won't change before she finds herself in a situation in which it's vital she exercise better judgment... about things like drugs and sex, for instance. (Though I'm sure she won't do either of those things. Ever.)
So, I ground her, and hope it forces her to think about whatever impulse she couldn't control this time. Being cooped up in one room for an entire weekend is torture for a bouncy kid like Miss G. It leaves her no choice but to listen to her own thoughts for a while, something she doesn't make time for otherwise. I don't like grounding her one bit, but I hold myself responsible for teaching her how to slow down, pay attention, listen to her intuition, just the same as I taught her how to tie her shoes.