Keeping the peace, but not quite...

This past month has been a particularly rough month work-wise. My husband has literally been home maybe a week in the past four or five and those seven or so days have not been consecutive. I am sure it is difficult on him to be out on the road dealing with what he has to deal with and not being home with his wife and children on a consistent basis. It isn’t easy for myself either dealing with the inane things that I deal with over and over again without much reprieve. As terrible as it sounds, and all mothers have been there, but there are days where I am literally on my knees begging for the night to come so that I can have a few short hours of peace. Some nights are not so great and I have to put the kids to bed maybe a dozen or so times a night before it sticks. Needless to say, I will do anything and everything to keep my kids asleep. Sleep on the couch if I have to separate them from their shared bedroom, if one or the other feels the need to keep the other up? Sure. I’ve been on the couch a number of times. Wake up at 4am to bring the oldest into bed with me so she doesn’t wake up her little brother? Yup. Been close to smothering the dog because he hears a stray leaf blow down the sidewalk and feels the need to go ballistic, barking like mad? No, but I will spray him with water to shush him up if I have to! You get the point. I am a protective Mama Bear of my own quiet time and for the dear sweet quietness of rest for my darling children. I do what I need to do as most mothers do. Even if it means stepping out of what we call a “comfort zone.”



One particular evening, it’s after 9pm and the kids have had their typical day and sadly typical evening and I was in no mood to have them awoken yet again after the dust settled and peace sprang like a river, so I was very on edge when I kept hearing noise from the neighbor who lives in the condo above ours. I am used to noise. We live on a busy street and I have two kids and a dog. I am aware of the general noises of our neighbors and typically hear Mister Upstairs walking about and what not, but on this night it was beyond ridiculous. The air conditioning unit in our condo was on full blast and it’s an old one so it rattles loudly AND I was watching a movie on my computer with my ear buds in and I could STILL hear all the crazy thumping, bumping, and thwacking that was occurring above. I swear that if it continued, I would have been sitting amongst the rubble of what would have been formerly my ceiling. I swear. This type of noise has occurred before. Last year. When Mister Upstairs had what I am assuming to be his grandchildren come for a visit. Last year, I tolerated it a bit better. This year, I am older, wiser and have less patience. Maybe I am just braver and fully embracing Mama Bear status? Who knows. After maybe ten or fifteen minutes of continued rabble rousing, or so it seemed, I began to hear my children stir. Oh unh unnnn!

I grabbed my ever ferocious protector, Sebastian, mostly so he wouldn’t be left behind to bark and add to the rumpus, and I marched right up to Mister Upstairs’ door and knocked. I had to knock thrice. Yes, it was that loud. When he answered he looked annoyed at me. Really? You are going to be annoyed at me?!

“Umm, I am so sorry to bother you, but you are being kind of loud and my kids are trying to sleep….” And I believe I said it with a slightly terrified grimace.

Mister Upstairs merely stared at me with a look of defiant annoyance. Maybe it is something that elderly gentlemen master so as not to have to deal with young women?

So again, I apologize. (!!!!)

“My kids are up from New Jersey to visit,” he stated. He then just continued to stare at me with the door merely ajar so that only his menacingly large frame peeked at me from inside. And was I to merely accept this as the only information needed so that I could proceed with a relatively quieter evening? He seemed satisfied with his response. I was confused and starting to stutter.

“Oh, I am so sorry. I don’t mean to be that kind of person, you know, but, um, it’s just really loud…”

Aaaaaand nothing.

So, I turned and started to make my way back down the stairs with a mumbled, “Thanks…??” thrown over my shoulder.

Could my life be more awkward?

Oh and there’s more.

The very next day (and I was desperately hoping to avoid this), as I am walking out of the building with my kids, who is walking into the building, but Mister Upstairs. I look up and give a sheepish, shy smile and was about to choke out a “hello” when he kept his head down stiff and brushed right past me. So, I guess that would make Mister Upstairs, now, Enemy #1. To make matters worse, Mister Upstairs (aka: Enemy #1) is buddy buddy with his next door neighbor and they like to stand on the landing and chat.

The night following my terrifying confrontation, I hear Mister Upstairs’ neighbor come home and I hear him come out and they proceed to talk. So of course, being the nosy neighbor that I apparently am, I mute the television so I can hear if he mentions me. He does. And while I only heard a muffled version and an irritated tone, I am fairly certain that what I did to him (?) has upset him to the equivalent of me murdering some dear pet of his. As far as I recall, I did not harm any children or animals in said event. So now, I think he hates me and wants to slash my tires.

I am probably over-reacting. At least I hope so.

But come to think of it, Mister Upstairs (aka: Enemy #1) might actually be Enemy #2 because if Mister Downstairs saw me last Christmas put down the baked goods I left for him and then saw or heard me come back to take them back because I wasn’t sure if he was home or not and interpreted that as me being intentionally rude and mean, then that would make sense as to why he doesn’t ever say hello or look me in the face when I attempt to be neighborly with him and he would be, for all intents and purposes, Enemy #1. Oh my.

Yes, I have reached crazy Mama Bear overload. Come, Andrew, home quickly.