This blog is later than usual because we have had QUITE the weekend full of diseases and infections. Weeeeee! It is nothing but fun over in Duprez Land. The magical land of coughing so much you puke and crusties leaking out of face holes and pink eye. PINK EYE.
Anyway – before infection rained down upon us we had Kathleen come over (aren’t you glad you came over to the house of disease and snot, Kathleen?!) to help us with Gabe while we finished hanging some photos. My goal is to have everything completed (At least in the public places? Our bedroom is still a little bit of a cluster) by Gabe’s birthday. So Kathleen was there, we were all chatting, Kamel was doing 90% of the work with his measuring tape and pencil and level and hammering and I was art directing the apartment. That goes there, well maybe not there, well let’s not have too many photo clusters and you can see both photo clusters from this angle so let’s put this over there and so and so forth. It was about 1:30 pm and we had finished up putting 5 frames in the kitchen nook and were just about to hang 4 photo above our TV when a knock came at our door.
It was our downstairs neighbor.
“Hi, I’m [insert name here that I can’t remember, sorry lady], Niko’s mom. And his nap time is between noon and 2, and it isn’t going well today. Is it possible for you to stop hammering?”
I said sure, because I’ve never been asked to be quiet ever in my life and especially not in the middle of the day on a Saturday. I shut the door and turned around – Kamel was standing, hammer in hand.
It’s not that I don’t have compassion. I do have compassion, I get what it is like when you’re kid is having a rough day in the nap department. The part where I stop giving a fuck is this: You live in an apartment building! With a lot of other people! We share some walls and we share some common areas and we all silently agree to not be loud after 10pm, except maybe on Friday nights when if it goes until 11pm, you’re forgiven. Even if I have a kid, even if you live next door to me, even if it wakes my kid up. Because it is the price we pay for apartment living.
I had asked Kathleen to come over especially to watch Gabe while we hustled and got shit done. What if we had paid a babysitter? It was the middle of the day. It was on a weekend. Am I now required to keep in mind little Niko’s naps while also keeping in mind my own kid’s? And when would be a better time to put stuff on our wall? To build furniture? To do those things that are louder than normal? Because I’m thinking Saturday in the middle of the day was about the best I could do.
But I said we would cool it on the photos, because there is something to say for being neighborly. And maybe one day when I am in a jam I can call upon her to do me a solid, but probably not. Probably not ever. So chalk it up to good karma, even with a side order of rant.
And welcome to apartment living. Sometimes your neighbors do things that are inconvenient for you, in their own space, that they pay for. And sometimes you have to take your kid for a drive or a walk just to get through nap time. Just because I also have a kid doesn’t mean it’s ok to inconvenience me and my family because you think we “get” each other.