New Mom on the Block

Dear Neighborhood Children:

There is a new Mom on the block. I don’t care what street rules existed before. I don’t care how things used to be. This is a new day and a new reality. If you want to play with my kids or my kids’ things, you will play by my rules. Challenge me if you like to lose. Thanks.

Signed: Meany McGee in #3

Ok, I jest, sort of. One of the benefits of living with the Moms-in-law (MIL) is that her house is in a cul-de-sac: extra yard space, safer outdoor play for kids and friendly neighbors. There are three young kids already living in The Sac, two of which are a brother and sister ages 7 and 5. The Boy is a good friend our little cousin JR and every Saturday they pal around playing war while the sister (Ry) follows begging for some sort of acknowledgment. Ry is estatic to have Bug here and have another girl who wants to play hopscotch and princesses instead of guns and bad guys. I am happy for Bug to have these friends too. I’m hoping the peer interaction will break her out of her 3-yr-old whiney streak. But while these kids are accessible they are also, well honestly, rude.

When I was a kid, I played at my neighbor’s house everyday. We were up their trees, over their fence and in their dirt every free moment of the day. But I rarely every went into their house. When it was time to eat, we went back home. If I needed to use the bathroom, I went home. If it rained we separated until the sun came out again. I don’t remember anyone ever setting down the rules, we just quietly knew that our own space was right there and the house was sort of off limits.

Maybe that’s why I just don’t get The Boy. When he was 3 and still cute and babbling, he would cross the driveway and knock on MIL’s door. They would sit and have “coffee” together and he would ask how she was doing and talk her up. It was ridiculously adorable. So add the easy access to MIL’s with the fact that his grandparents also live in The Sac and after a few years he pretty much thinks he runs the neighborhood. He comes in on Saturday’s when JR is here and raids the refrigerator, demands drinks, rarely says please or thank you, and is constantly coming in and out, in and out of the house. Mind you, he plays GREAT with JR but he is a pill. Now that I live here, I refuse to feed a child who lives twenty feet away and demands with little appreciation.

The first week we were here, he broke Bug’s fishing pole, got into old paint and painted himself, sister and the garage, and purposely stabbed holes into Bug’s cardboard play house. He demanded that my monkey dog NOT be out in the front because so-and-so is allergic, our cat not be outside because no one likes cat poo in their yard and that I wasn’t allowed to make plans that took JR away from the house on Saturday because that was their time together.

This became an all-consuming problem for me. As a personal rule, I try not to be passive aggressive. As an A-D-U-L-T I remind myself that I can handle confrontation with grown ups in a mature and assertive way without slighting someone else or causing more friction. But that doesn’t mean it comes easy. I always need a pep talk and have to prepare myself for the action. How do you confront a 7-year old about rudeness? How do you correct someone else’s child?

I swallowed my own attitude for a few days to absorb how his parents and grandparents handle him. They are very sweet people and terrific neighbors so I want to tread lightly on the issue of The Boy. Grubbing for snacks, using manners and respecting adults is a big deal to them to, so after a few days and a formal invitation to “do what I feel is necessary at the time if I have a problem” I grounded The Boy from our house. It just happened to be Spring Break. It just happened to include a Saturday. We just happened to put up our swing set. I’m sure it was not easy for him to stay away while his sister was welcome.

Five days into the banishment, he sincerely apologized for stabbing holes into Bug’s house (the infraction that finally turned me into an enforcer.) Yesterday was his first day back at the house. I volunteered to make popcorn and sliced apples as a snack. He asked for licorice he could see on the counter. I said, “No.” It came easily. I didn’t fret or silently worry what he would think about that or if I was sounding too mean. He barely ate his snack and ninety minutes later (near dinner time) found me outside to ask if he could have his bowl of popcorn that I had already cleaned up. His grandparents heard and said, “no.” He let himself in to MIL’s house fifteen minutes later to find the bowl himself and left again empty handed with a reminder that he needs to knock and MIL sternly shooing him out of her house and blatantly calling him out for his rudeness.

I feel good about learning to say “no.” It doesn’t come easily to me for whatever reason. But, motherhood teaches you that being tough in a loving way is imperative to maintaining balance in the day. Candy all day = sore belly/no dinner later. And, honestly, I do like The Boy. He is still charming and he manages the younger kids in the neighborhood in a sweet and energetic way. He is charismatic and a leader and, dare I say, he reminds me a lot of myself. Hopefully we can come to an agreement of what is acceptable behavior before the summer hits and we are in each other’s faces all day every day.  We shall see…