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Sep 23, 2007

Neighbor Showdown

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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.

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Aug 4, 2007

Forget Pigs, We’ve Got Flying Rocks!

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I was sitting in my quiet living room this afternoon, with Cordy at preschool, Mira asleep, and only the tapping of my keyboard and click of my mouse echoing in the room. It was a peaceful moment, relaxing by myself. But then there was a loud *thump* against the front door.

Damn, I thought, a bird must have flown into the door. Or maybe a package was roughly dropped off by UPS.

I opened the door and looked out the glass of the storm door, hoping not to see a stunned robin on my front porch. But there was no robin. And there was no package. My glance shifted up, and I saw the neighbor boy and his friend standing at the end of my driveway, picking up a rock. The two boys noticed me and started nonchalantly walking back towards the neighbor’s yard, occasionally glancing at me from the corner of their eyes and mumbling something under their breath while occasionally giggling. The rock was casually tossed out into the street by the friend.

Opening the door, I still wondered what had happened. I walked out to check the mail, and then as I came back up the walk, I saw it sitting next to the doormat: a rock. A rock that I’m sure wasn’t there earlier in the day.

I picked up the rock, glancing back at the boys. They were still watching me carefully, acting like they had no idea where that rock came from, shrugged their shoulders, and then walked off down the street. As they turned to walk away, I loudly asked, “Gee, I wonder how this rock ended up flying into my door?” They gave no response as they walked away, whispering something to each other.

So apparently we now have flying rocks in our neighborhood. We can add that to the other fantastical items found in this small community, including fence boards that warp themselves, tree branches that break on their own, and a mystical stick that carves wavy, looping lines into the paint of our six month old, still not paid off SUV.

We have enough magic on our street to rival Hogwarts.

I wish some action could be taken, but so far we have no recourse because we did not witness any of these actions, so we can’t prove who did it. It amazes me that kids can be so destructive for fun, and parents can care so little. Without proof, though, the parents don’t want to hear about it.

There may be a light at the end of the tunnel, though. A sign has been placed in the yard next to ours much like this one:

(Not showing the real sign, since it would point right to where I live.)

Do you think burying a St. Joseph statue in their yard would help sell their house if I was the one who buried it instead of them? Maybe I’ll help them market the house: “Great neighborhood, quiet location, just watch out for the magic flying rocks.“

Filed Under: other people's kids, rant ·


May 19, 2007

My Evil Plan

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Apparently pregnancy hormones make me a wee bit evil sometimes. Or maybe I’m just blaming the hormones to seem less bitchy to all of you.

I’ve complained about our neighbors before. Their four kids see no boundaries between their house and ours. They leave their bikes in our driveway, our side yard is their play area, they pee on our fence, and they sometimes come up to peer into our house.

Right now the neighbor kids are using our side yard to play baseball. They have put down planks of wood on our grass, and in the space between the two houses (where we can’t see them, because there are no windows there), they are tossing a large bouncy ball, hitting it with a plastic bat, and running the “bases”. I occasionally hear a loud thump as the ball hits our house, or the fence that they’re playing up against.

I’m really getting sick of this. While I’m sorry these kids have nowhere to play (they have a backyard, but it’s full of dog poop, so they won’t play there), it is our yard they’re playing in, and our house that is getting hit. A few weeks ago I went outside and politely asked the kids not to hit our house or climb our fence, which resulted in them telling their mother that I yelled at them.

From inside my house, I could hear their mom yelling every obscenity she could think of about me and my family, all because I had the nerve to ask her kids to mind the rules of my property. It eventually forced me to go outside and explain that I didn’t yell at them – I simply asked them to please be more careful and to ask us if they needed inside our fence to get the ball instead of climbing it instead. She calmed down, but complained that there was nowhere in the neighborhood for them to play. Trying to keep the neighborly peace, I told her I understood, but I didn’t want our stuff destroyed or them to get hurt by climbing our (not-all-that-stable) fence.

She yelled at her kids, but of course it did little good. They’re still out doing the same things every night, and she’s fully aware of it, because she can see them out the window. She says she doesn’t want them playing in the street – well, that’s great, but is tearing up our property a better option?

What I wanted to tell her at the time was if they wanted more room to play, they should have picked a bigger lot in the neighborhood – we specifically picked our lot because it gave us a huge amount of yard. It’s our yard, that we’re mowing and paying for, that they’re tearing up. But because the neighbors have a hair-trigger explosive temper, I admit I’m a little afraid of telling it like it is.

Today, though, hearing them constantly abusing our house has made me devise the evil passive-aggressive plan that I will put in place after this baby is born: it’s time to do some creative landscaping, I think.

First, along the outside of the fence on the side yard I’m going to plant rose bushes: rose bushes with lots of big thorns. Next, I’m going to extend the landscaping out from our porch to provide less open space between houses.

And finally, I’m going to add some decorative landscape edging:


It will go around everything, including our poor baby oak tree in the front yard that they’ve nearly hacked to death. I may not go with this particular edging, but you can bet it will be pointy on top. Oh yes, it will be pointy.

Basically, I plan to make our front and side yards as unfriendly to playtime as possible. One fall on something thorny or pointy will make them think twice about playing on someone else’s property. It’s not like we let Cordy play out there, anyway – that’s why we have the gigantic fenced in back yard, full of child-friendly activities.

I don’t want to see these kids get hurt, but hopefully putting out a few more dangerous items in will discourage them from using our yard. If I could throw in a few roving porcupines, I would, but I doubt the city ordinances allow that.

The good news is that the neighbors tell us they’ll be moving out in a few months. They say they’ve got a house they’re moving to, and will let this one be foreclosed on. Of course, they’ve made that promise before, but failed to make good on it. Maybe it’ll happen this time.

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Apr 22, 2007

Boundaries

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As a young child, I roamed my neighborhood in my small town daily with my best friend. We spent many of the warm days of the year outside for much of the time.

I remember the old woman across the street. She never said anything to us – just shot us dirty looks when we walked by her section of the sidewalk. We thought she was a “witch”, and as the sun would go down each evening, her dark outline was visible through her front window, slowly rocking in her rocking chair.

Knowing she was watching, the temptation to perform for her was too much. I can’t even imagine what she was thinking as two young girls would occasionally go dancing by her window down the sidewalk, doing our best Michigan J. Frog impression and acting as goofy as we could. Who knows, maybe she got a good laugh out of it?

Looking back, I think she was just waiting for one of these energetic seven year olds to step foot off the sidewalk into her yard, putting her flower beds at risk, so she could do more than scowl at us and instead yell at us. She was too old to do her own yard work, but her grown children would come by each weekend to see that her yard looked lovely. Knowing how much pride she had for her yard, I can’t imagine what she would have done if someone hurt a single flower petal.

But I would never find out, because there is no way I would have set foot on her yard. No matter how much we laughed at our nightly performances, I understood my boundaries. Some kids might have ran up to her door and rang the doorbell and then ran away, but I refused to break that invisible line. My mother had drilled the concept of respecting others property into me. I would often run through my next door neighbor’s yard to visit my friend, yet this was only because our neighbor had given her permission to play in her yard.

So of course, now that I’m grown and that old woman has certainly passed on, I wonder if she’s now looking down at me and laughing at the situation I find myself in.

Spring has finally shown itself again here in Ohio, and as usual the kids are out in force. I’ve mentioned before that the next door neighbors have four children under 10, and that these children are often outside playing with no supervision. They have no understanding of boundaries or respecting the property of others. While my child self would dance in front of the house on the sidewalk, the younger two of these kids see nothing wrong with using our yard as their play area. Our driveway is their bike path. This is part of the reason we built a fence in the backyard – I didn’t like our backyard serving as their football and baseball field, as balls bounce off of our siding.

Tonight, as Aaron was mowing the backyard and I was getting Cordy ready for bed, I looked up to see a little face peering through the glass of our storm door, checking out our living room. Our eyes met, and I expected that to be enough to send him running away, but he continued to stand on our porch and take a good look at everything. Then his older brother came running up, also taking a good look into our house, and the two ran around to the front of our garage.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the door to the garage to find two little sets of hands going through the items in our garage (the garage door was up because Aaron had the lawnmower out). “This isn’t your house. Go home.” I told them, and they paused to look at me for a moment before walking back to their own porch.

But by the time I was back to the living room, I saw the youngest peering in our front door again. I pointed to his house and told him to go. He again ran around towards our garage. At this point I heard the oldest shouting at him to come back. I closed the garage door to prevent them from going through our things again, and I closed the front door, even though I was enjoying the sunshine streaming in.

Cordy noticed everything at this point, and said, “No! My friends!” as I shut the door. “No, Cordy, those are not your friends,” I replied. (She’s actually never played with them before – she just calls any other kid her “friend” right now.)

I am the mean mommy. While these kids are playing outside late into the night, my little girl goes to bed by 8pm. While they play out in the street, Cordy is limited to playing in her fenced-in yard under our supervision. But I know I won’t have to worry about the cars that drive too fast around our curve, or worry about where she might have run off to. And you can bet as she grows older, I will continue to teach her about respecting the property of others.

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