The Duty of a Parent

We live at the end of a cul de sac. Most of our neighbors are these cute, little elderly couples who have lived here for 30+ years. I don't mind that there aren't a lot of kids. Whenever my children see one of our neighbors out planting flowers, pruning their shrubs, or cutting the grass they go out and ask to help. They end up spending some lovely quality time with these neighbors and learn a lot from them. It is lovely.  However, we have one family on our street who has three girls. They live about four or five houses down from us. Their three girls are all a few years older than our girls. The oldest is 16 years old. We never see her. The next one is 11 years old, in her last year of primary school and will be attending secondary school next year. The last one is 8 years old and is very sweet.

The problem comes with the middle girl. Whenever she has a certain friend of hers named Ellie at her house for a play date, they end up coming to my house asking if my girls can come out and play. In the summer, my girls would be out riding bikes and they would just ride or walk up to them and start "bulling" them.This past summer, my girls got so upset every time these older girls came out of their house. Abby especially went into hyper panic mode and set off crying by almost anything they did. They have no respect for authority or anyone older than them. In fact this past summer, when they would see us get into our car to drive somewhere they would jump on their bikes and ride in the middle of the road as slow as possible in front of our car so we could not get around them. We had to go at a snail's pace behind them until we reached the main road way, where they would turn off and we would finally be on our way. That little trick enraged me so much! I could not believe these 10-11 year old girls could be so rude and obnoxious. I wanted to run them over in the worst way.

The other thing, they love to do is ring our doorbell several times and then run away. They do this over and over. Many times they run away but other times when you answer the door, they ask if my girls can come out and play. Well, now my girls (mostly Abby is) are terrified of them and do not want to play with them. I tell them they are busy doing math or piano etc. So they reply that they will come back in five minutes. "No! They will not be done in five minutes. Please don't come back that quickly." But sure enough they come back in five minutes. If I tell them my girls cannot play today, they usually say (and this happens on weekends) that they will come back at 5 or 6am the next morning and ring our doorbell. It is really obnoxious!

Now I must say, I haven't spoken to their parents about any of this because it only happens on holidays are when school is out on break and the girls clearly have nothing else going on to occupy them. So it doesn't happen very often. 

Last night the whole game escalated, they started ringing our doorbell and immediately Abby started going into hysterics. I told them Abby was busy doing math and couldn't come play. Sammy still needed to do her piano etc. They came back minutes later asking again. I told them we are still busy, they cannot play with you today. They asked if we could arrange a play date. No. We are busy this weekend, I replied trying to remain calm and patient. They continued by saying they would come back late that night or a variety of other alternatives. I was answering the door so much, I could hardly get dinner ready. Just as we were about to sit down for dinner, the doorbell rings again and more nonsense ensues. The doorbell rings at some other point a bunch of times and we answer it to find no one there. I am so fed up that I yell out the door, "STOP RINGING MY DOORBELL!" The door rings again a few minutes later, the girls are demanding that I apologize for yelling. They claim to have been scared by it. I say, then stop ringing my doorbell. They then tell me that, it was some boys that they don't know who are ringing my doorbell. REALLY!? I finally get rid of them we eat dinner and a LOVELY, lovely friend of mine from Chicago calls me. I have not spoken to her in two and a half years. We are so excited to catch up but all the while, the doorbell is ringing and my girls are answering it and chaos reigns. At one point, the neighbor girls are pushing on the door to open it and my girls are pushing on the door to shut it. My girls get it shut and then bolt the door with every lock on it.

A little later in the evening, Sammy gets into the shower. She has shampoo on her head when for some ridiculous reason, we run out of hot water. She is crying. I am heating up the kettle downstairs, while on the phone and running boiling water up to add to the cold bath water so she can finish rinsing her hair. Meanwhile, the doorbell is ringing. The neighbor girls hand a note over that is written to me demanding that I apologize for yelling. I get off the phone, the door has finally stopped but the neighbor girls are standing outside on our driveway doing who knows what. Abby can't stop looking out the window and panicking. Sammy is out of the shower and standing in front of the window in her towel as well. The neighbor girls are laughing. I herd my girls away from the window. Charles comes home and immediately upon stepping foot in the house hears all the drama of the night from me and from Abby. I am at my wits end. Charles puts the girls to bed. He tells me I need to go over to their house and talk to their mother the next day. I agree but I don't want to do it at all but know it has to be done. I wish Charles would just do it. I know it has to be me. I pout. I go straight to bed. I feel emotionally exhausted like I have been run over by a train.

The next morning, I get up and make some homemade french bread. Charles and I decided that if I bring "a peace offering." I may not be received with as much contention from the parents when I tell them they need to control their children (of course, I wouldn't word it like that). I have no idea what to expect from the parents. I have only seen them and chatted briefly over the two and a half years we have lived here. I stress all day about what I am going to say. The awkward transition after giving them the lovely bread from your thoughtful neighbor...to can you please do something about your children? How will they receive this? Will they hate me? Will there now be this tension between us as neighbors? The bread is done baking. I do the dishes and every little chore that needs doing just to put off the inevitable. Finally, I psyche myself up and walk to their house. The first time I go, there is no one home. I am completely relieved. I call Charles and tell him I tried. Oh well...He urges me to watch the house and see if they get back before I have to go pick up the girls from school. Of course, they do come home and I see a car out front. I walk over, ring their doorbell and ever so sweetly give them the bread. The father leads me in to the house with big smiles where the mother is. She is very sweet and excited for the homemade bread. Then comes the awkward transition. I tell her why I am really there. I tell her all about the previous night and the incidents in the past. She actually does not hate me. It is the miracle bread! She tells me that she does not like this friend Ellie of her daughter's either and that she is a very bad influence on her daughter. She tells me that they have gotten really impatient with Ellie themselves. They are also shocked by her disrespect. It is a HUGE relief to me. I tell her how nervous I was about coming over. I tell her the bread was not really a late New Year's neighbor gift, it was a peace offering. She laughs. I laugh. She says she will talk to her girls and to Ellie and that it will not happen anymore. We exchange phone numbers in case anything does happen in the future. I skip back down the road, happy!