Neighbor Showdown

Well, it finally had to happen. Our neighbors finally showed themselves to be the rabid feral animals we knew them to be. I’m still shaken, so forgive me if this is disjointed. I needed to get it out somewhere.

First off, the bad news is that the neighbors aren’t losing their house now. It was to be foreclosed on, but their mortgage company decided at the last minute to work with them. I can only hope they miss more payments and get thrown out. Yeah, it’s a little mean to wish that on them, but after tonight, you can understand why I feel that way.

Tonight the kids were, once again, completely in our yard, taking over our side yard for their games. While out in the backyard, I caught a kid out of the corner of my eye, in the fenced in yard, and then he ran around the side of the house. I walked around to see two of the boys saying, “Let’s get out of here,” as they ran away, and the girl saying, “Oh, thanks guys, let me get in trouble.” Clearly they know it’s wrong to jump our fence. I reminded the girl to please let us know if they lose their ball in the yard by knocking on our door, and gave her back the other ball that was in our yard.

I came in and told Aaron, then opened the front door. It was then I noticed that a few of the bricks surrounding our tree were knocked over as the kids ran all over our yard. Aaron had had enough at this point, and went outside to tell the kids they needed to respect our property, and if they damaged anything he would call the police. OK, he probably shouldn’t have mentioned the word police, but he didn’t raise his voice, and he said please.

Then the bomb hit. The dad came over to our house, yelling obscenities at us and threatening us. I went outside and attempted to reason with them (what the hell was I thinking?), but as usual he and his wife cut off anything I tried to say and yelled at me.

I told them I simply didn’t want our property damaged by them, and I thought we were well within our bounds to set our own rules on our own property.

The mom said that we are the problem with society – we don’t let kids be kids, and they are just letting their kids be kids. She also (of course) went back to her old argument that her kids never do anything wrong, and that it’s their friends who are doing all the damage. Because we can’t produce visual evidence, we have no proof. She also claims that she’s seen random kids come running through just to jump over our fence. I’ve seen her oldest son climbing our fence before, and somehow I’ve never seen these mysterious fence jumpers who come from far and wide just to leap our fence.

There were several points I could have yelled back or thrown an insult about their kids. But I refused to stoop to her level. And so I simply stood there and reiterated that we just want our property respected while she tried to twist everything I said around. I reminded her that we have never raised our voice with her children, even though she accused us of yelling at her kids for “bending a blade of grass”. She then said it didn’t matter if I didn’t raise my voice, because the tone of my voice was disrespectful to her kids. (Can’t win, can you?)

And the insults against us continued. She said we keep Cordy “locked up” (because she’s not outside all the time) and told me that it’s no wonder she has social problems and will grow up to be an outcast. She repeated over and over that we’re the problem with society, and we’d rather see her kids hit by cars. Apparently she’s preventing her kids from becoming juvenile delinquents and shooting people by letting them run wild outside. Uh-huh, whatever. I thought running wild with no concern for others is how kids head down the wrong path.

She told us that half of the neighbors were on her side, and that also our fence was on their property and she was planning to call the homeowners association to force us to tear it down. (We built the fence on the property line, actually, since two years ago they wanted to build a fence and we offered to extend ours to the property line since they were concerned about the costs. We were trying to be nice. See what nice gets you?) Should we find out the fence is on their property (doubt it – we measured it with the stake put in by the city), we’re only too happy to tear that side down and move it in, just to the inside of our property.

I also reminded her that I’ve seen her youngest son peeing in our yard more than once. She told me that, again, I was in the wrong, because he’s a boy and that’s what boys do. “All boys do it. Your husband probably did it as a kid, too.” (For the record, he didn’t.) I had no idea peeing in other people’s yards was socially acceptable.

She then said that we brought all of this on ourselves, because before they moved in, we told them we had plenty of yard and they were welcome to play in our yard. Maybe we did offer that, but we do have the right to revoke that offer, and we expect our property to remain undamaged.

It was clear there was no reasoning with these people. Anything we tried to say they countered with some ridiculous argument and hurled insults at me. Finally Aaron came back out, and it escalated. The dad came over onto our property and got right up in his face (completely nose-to-nose) saying we didn’t want to find out what he was capable of. We, having stayed calm the entire time, did not react to his provocations. I calmly said, “There’s no need for you to be so aggressive,” to which he then swung around to me, pointing his finger about an inch from my face and saying, “You stay the fuck out of this!” Aaron wisely took a step back and said, “Clearly, this conversation is over. Let’s go inside.” We turned around and left as they continued to yell at us.

Soon the cops showed up. Yes, they called the police. The neighbors had also by this point fetched the parents of the friend the kids had in our yard. They talked to the police for about fifteen minutes, and then one of the officers came to speak with us. We explained our position to him. The other officer came up to speak with us, too, asking where the property line was. I told him it was at the fence, although they were contesting that. He went to look, and came back, saying, “You’ve got a pie-shaped lot. That looks like the right placement for the property line.”

The cops were very nice with us, in no way indicating that we’ve done anything wrong. I informed them that the dad had threatened us with physical harm, too. They offered to tell the family that they were not allowed to step foot on our property. I explained that I didn’t want it to come to that. I’m not trying to be mean, I only want our property to be respected.

They thanked us, and returned to talking with the neighbors. The police remained outside for nearly an hour. At one point, Aaron could hear an officer telling them, “Look, we told them we could forbid you from coming onto their land, but they didn’t want to do that.” Finally the police left.

It’s quiet now. I’m sick to my stomach. I’m angry. And I feel like a prisoner in my own house. These people are aggressive and unable to see beyond their own noses. While this entire argument was going on, all four of their kids were standing right there, learning how to act like cavemen, just like their parents.

This is such a petty thing to get this worked up over. I’d like to say I didn’t think they would overreact like this, but I somehow knew this would happen. Say anything, or look cross eyed at their kids, and they will jump all over you. They never admit their kids do anything wrong. Just last week I explained to the mom that I had asked the kids not to pull on our tree, because they have broken off a branch, and she said to me, “I’ve told them not to do it. But what can I do?” Uh, how about parent your kids?

I’m so upset, and I really wish they’d go away. They are mean, spiteful, hateful people, and I have a strong feeling they will now try to retaliate. Our car has already been scratched up (mysteriously?) after the last argument over their kids. But now they’re openly hostile, so there’s no telling what these people will do now.

Sometimes I wish there were personality tests required in order to live in certain areas. We just want to enjoy our home, and our yard, in peace. Our neighbors, however, seem to think that they are entitled to do whatever they want in the neighborhood, especially our yard.

What do you do when your own neighbors are your worst enemy?

Edited to add: Late at night they came over again, talking like we were all friends and telling us about how their property line on the drawing they were given doesn’t match up with the city’s drawings, and how it’s the builder’s fault. They did apologize and say they didn’t want to fight. I reminded them that it’s a hassle to go to them every time I have to ask their kids to not do something, and asked them to not get so bent out of shape if we politely ask their kids to follow our rules in our yard. I have no idea for why they had the sudden change in attitude, but I’ll take it. I can only guess the police gave them a serious talk about property laws. Still, I’d rather have passive-aggressive neighbors at a Yellow threat level rather than outright hostile neighbors at a Red threat level.



The Devil’s Spam

I always though spam was from Lucifer himself. Now I have proof.

My Gmail this morning:

(apologies for the bad drawing)


Haiku Fridays: A Moo-ving Haiku

Haiku Friday

Wilbur is a cow
He likes to read books to kids
Come find out more here


And one more haiku for this very special day:

Three years to the day
Cordy came into the world
Pissed off and screaming


…and little has changed. But that’s why I love her.

Join the haiku fun!



Me Shiny New Blog Booty

Arrrr! Since it be Talk Like A Pirate Day, it be only fitting to show off me new pirate treasure that I’ve acquired as of late.

(OK, I can’t keep up the pirate talk. I’m far too tired.)

First up is an award I was given a few months ago by MamaMichelesBabies, when I was knee deep in new baby exhaustion. I didn’t forget, though!


Thank you for the award, and for being so kind as to call this worn out mom rockin’! It makes me want to pull out my black eyeliner and skull & crossbones t-shirt and watch MTV. If it still had videos, that is.

I’d like to pass this award on to Suebob, Vodkarella and Queen of Spain, three of the most rockin’ girl bloggers I know.

Next up, Julie awarded me the Nice Matters award. It honors, “those that are just nice people , good blog friends and those that inspire good feelings and inspiration! Those that care about others that are there to lend support or those that are just a positive influence in our blogging world!” OK, I’m blushing now. I don’t care if people think “nice” is a blah term, I’ll accept the award and strive to continue being nice to others. Thanks, Julie!


There are so many people I could pass this on to, but in the interest of not taking hours to link to half of my Bloglines, I’ll pass this award on to Karianna, Mayberry Mom, and Bub & Pie.

And finally, there’s this beautiful little award, courtesy of Awesome Mom:


Can’t get more to-the-point that that now, can we? Thank you for the award, Awesome Mom! In return, I’d like to pass this award on to Jennifer, L.A. Daddy, and Sarah.

I get that warm and fuzzy feeling anytime someone tells me they love my blog. I started this thing as a way to chronicle Cordy’s childhood and have a place to rant and rave about whatever I wanted, and it’s grown into a lovely community of people. I often can’t respond to every comment personally, but I do appreciate your thoughts and I’m thankful you take the time to share them.

Group hug now, everyone!



Dear Bill Maher, Let’s Talk Breasts. And Feeding.

Thanks to other bloggers, I was able to catch your segment on breastfeeding. Sad to say, I don’t think we’ll be having lunch out together anytime soon. Not that you and I would ever agree on a restaurant, anyway, since the only way you can tolerate breasts and eating in unison is at Hooters.

I understand you don’t have kids, and therefore, don’t understand the importance of breastfeeding. You probably don’t like eating near kids who are loud at the table, either. However, these kids are your future. They will be paying your social security, they will be serving as your nurses as they feed you your Ensure through a straw. So you might want to take some interest in their upbringing.

You, as a celebrity, are in a unique position for people to hear your message. I can rant and rave on my little blog here as much as I like, but I’m probably only reaching 200-300 people at most. You can reach millions. Yet you squandered your chance to educate and inform by choosing to belittle breastfeeding activists and speak out against breastfeeding openly in public.

All research points to breastfeeding being the optimal food for an infant. (Take a moment and read the American Academy of Pediatrics official policy. It’s enlightening.) Millions of years of evolution (you do still believe in evolution, right?) have produced the perfect food for humans during one of their most critical periods of development. Cow milk is for baby cows, dog milk is for baby dogs, and human milk is for baby people. But even though we know this, and all medical associations promote and support breastmilk as the optimal food for infants for their first year of life, only 41.5% of infants in the U.S. are still being breastfed at six months. Less than 12% were breastfed exclusively past six months.

Why is this? Well, one reason is because of asshats like you. Remarks like those you made recently shame women into thinking their breasts are only indecent sexual objects, only to be brought out from under a shirt at home, Mardi Gras, or a good topless bar. You have reinforced the public belief that breasts are only meant for a man’s pleasure. But the primary function of the breast is for milk production.

What exactly do you have a problem with concerning breastfeeding in public? Are you really that concerned with seeing a little bit of tit flesh while you dine? Why are you looking, anyway? It’s pretty easy to tell when a woman is about to breastfeed – why not notice and then make the conscious choice to go back to your own meal and conversation with friends and not dwell on it. Or are you more upset that the baby is getting closer to a breast than you have lately?

Because of people like you, many women feel uncomfortable breastfeeding in public, leading them to bring a bottle if their baby is hungry. That bottle may be pumped milk, but more likely they’ll just grab some of the formula given to them in their promotional diaper bag from the hospital. I’ll bet many moms choose to give up breastfeeding entirely due to the fear they have developed of feeding their child in public. After all, who wants to stay cooped up in their house for a year? Good going there, Bill: take away an infant’s best source of food – providing antibodies, protection against diabetes, obesity, SIDS, and a possible increase in intelligence – all because you can’t control your ability to stop staring at a breast.

Were we to ever have that hypothetical lunch, Bill, there’s a good chance my daughter would need to eat during our time together. I can guarantee you that were you sitting right across the table from me, you’d see less breast than you would by walking across a college quad on a hot day.

You really screwed up, Bill. Now do the right thing, admit you’re wrong, and publicly support a woman’s right to breastfeed in public. I don’t have a soapbox big enough to get the message out, but you do.

Sincerely,
A mom

************

I also wanted to draw everyone’s attention to this documentary I found on YouTube, called Formula for Disaster. It’s put together by UNICEF and discusses the impact that formula marketing has had on the Philippines. In only a short amount of time, breastfeeding rates in the Philippines has dropped to a record low, mainly because of the media push for formula.

Many of these women actually believe that formula will make their kids into geniuses and grow faster, because that’s what the advertising tells them. Health professionals are wined and dined to promote formula, and women are told that their own milk is not good enough. Forget that many of the poorer women can’t afford this stuff, and that water supplies are often questionable.

Who makes this formula? American companies. (Primarily Nestle, the worst offender out there.) They’re raking in huge profits for a product that is of lower quality, using outrageous claims that you wouldn’t see here, but people there believe.

It’s an eye opening documentary that I think everyone needs to see. Here’s part one, and parts two, three, four and five can be viewed on You Tube. It’ll take about 20 minutes total.

And to clarify: as I’ve said before, I’m not against formula. I had to use it with Cordy. There are situations where it is necessary, and there are women who can’t breastfeed. When used properly, it can be lifesaving. But the marketing tactics used by these companies can be underhanded, and not enough support is given to women during the early days of breastfeeding, when it is difficult and painful, and easy to give up.