Good Fences

Last summer, we got new next-door neighbors.

They can't really help it that they have the same last name we do.  And they didn't know us when they decided to give their daughter the same name we gave ours a whole year earlier, so that they actually have the same first AND last names.  So we'll just call those things weird coincidences that couldn't be helped.  We'll forget for a minute that they've enrolled their daughter at the same neighborhood preschool we go to and they take her to the same doctor we go to, so that now every time I call those places, I have to be prepared to give a date of birth or a teacher's name so that the staff doesn't accidentally look up the wrong records.  Let's forget about those things, since it's really my fault for giving those places such stellar reviews when they asked us for recommendations in the first place.  But even if I don't blame them for those things, I think they're the kind of people who just might think all of those things are awesome enough to have done on purpose.

They have no boundaries. Don't get me wrong, they seem like nice enough people.   They're friendly, and that's great.  But I'd like to keep it at friendly without being friends.  I like having my own space.

I don't want them ringing our doorbell three or four times a week because their little girl wants my little girl to come over and play.  I don't want their daughter racing up my stairs as soon as I open the door, and if that happens I'd prefer it if the mom at least batted an eyelash about it.   I don't want the husband coming over every couple of weeks because he's anxious about how to care for the wonderful old live oak we share, or asking if we noticed the bushes that cover our utility meters have been trimmed. (Um, yeah, because I TRIMMED THEM, and only the ones on MY property that were blocking my access to my water meter.) 

My daughter likes theirs, and I'm happy they can play together outside in the front yard, but I'm sick of them inviting my daughter inside to play, and I'm sick of my daughter telling me she wants to invite theirs over.  I've allowed both a couple of times, but frankly I don't really want to babysit their 3-year-old for them, and I don't really want to invite the mom in to visit so she can watch her, either.  A few months ago, the mom actually asked if my daughter would be interested in coming over to spend the night.  She's four.  Even if I didn't have huge trust issues, that would never happen.   The people who used to live in their  house had a little girl, too, only a couple of months younger than my daughter, and we never had this problem.  So, I've been saying "no" a lot lately.   And trying to explain to the kids why I don't want them to answer the door. 

I get the feeling they let their daughter do whatever she wants most of the time.  For example, our preschool gets people to come to the Scholastic book fair by setting up an art show alongside it, with our children's art available for purchase.   Each teacher signs up to be there at a certain time during the evening, and the kids try to go at that time to play with their classmates and show us their art.   We always go, because who can resist the immortalization of our babies' handprints in tempera?  Well, on the Tuesday of the fair, they came home from school and told us they'd already been because their class slot was kind of late and they were worried it would interfere with bedtime.  They asked if we'd been yet, and I said we planned to go later.  My daughter admired the book theirs had bought, and we went our separate ways.  So imagine how perplexed I was when, later that evening at the book fair, their daughter runs up to us and says hello.   When I saw her mother, I mentioned it was a surprise to see them.  "Oh, she kept talking about how she wanted to go to the book fair with [my daughter], so we decided to come back."  We were already done, so I just said I hoped they enjoyed the fair, and we left.

Now that's just creepy.  Right?  Who lets their preschooler stalk other children?  Don't reasonable parents say things like, "Ha! NO?"

And then there's the dog.  He's some enormous mixed breed that she bought at a shelter when she was single, because she wanted some protection while she hawked rugs on the side of the road.  (Which she still does, by the way.  So, the next time you're on the highway, and you see the person with rugs hanging from the side of her big white van, and you wonder what kind of person might decide to do that for a living, wave.  That's my neighbor.)  Anyway, this dog bolts out the front door any chance he gets and proceeds to mark all of the neighbors' territory as his own.  One day she got tired of calling for him and decided she'd rather not chase him.  She turned to me and said, "Haha, I hope nobody minds if he's running around the neighborhood."  I told her about our leash laws and let her know that somebody (me?ahem!) might call animal control if she doesn't keep him on a leash when he's outside.  I guess that scared her enough to keep him inside, because I've only seen him get out without a leash once since then, and she actually chased him down and took him back inside.

I've been wondering if the HOA will let me build a picket fence along the property line of our side yard.  Probably not, since I haven't seen one anywhere else in the neighborhood.  But it would've kept the husband from pulling the oak sapling that was growing in my yard--and believe me, I am sure it was my yard--while he was weeding today.  I noticed it last week.  It was in a perfect spot--not too close to the house, not in the middle of anywhere we like to run with the kids, and actually in a part of the yard that could have used a good shade tree.  As I looked at it this morning and thought about how much it had grown in less than a week, I thought about involving the kids in a project where we'd measure it every few days and chart its growth.  And then this afternoon, it was gone.  And the neighbor was outside on his knees in the grass, with a big pile of weeds beside him on the sidewalk.  I confronted him about it, and he admitted he pulled it and seemed contrite that he had not paid attention to whose yard he was in.   And while I'm willing to forgive him, I don't feel badly about letting him know I was annoyed. 

But as one of my dearest friends pointed out to me last week, it could be worse:  it could have been my parents who bought the house next door.  But that's a story for another time.

Please, pretty please, leave me a comment below.  What are things like with your neighbors?  Are their people in your life that just don't get personal boundaries?  Let me know what you think!