I’ve pretty much had it with my upstairs neighbors. It’s a sweet, young little nuclear family but they are SO loud and inconsiderate I just can’t. The thing is, most of the apartments in NYC are old and not very soundproof. You’re always going to be hearing neighbor noises no matter what, and I…
I really don’t want to be that parent who says, “You just don’t understand!!”
If you were my downstairs neighbor? OMG. You would want to kill me and my child who does not know how to walk without stomping. Like, he just can’t do it. You would hear stomping and then me shouting at the top of my lungs, “IF YOU DONT STOP STOMPING I WILL PUT ALL OF YOUR TOYS IN TIMEOUT SO HELP ME GOD.” Or I would be shouting at him for running. Because I do not encourage it, but omg he doesn’t stop. I feel like I am descending into madness on the reg.
I have thought about what I would do if we lived in an apartment instead of a house. I probably would have made sure we could live on the ground floor to avoid constant complaints from neighbors. I don’t know if that would be possible in a place like NY, obvs. Actually, since I’m in the Midwest, I’d probably rent a house or at least one of those townhouse dealies. But that is obviously out of the question in NY.
I guess my point is that I feel for you, because I live with a stomping child. It is awful even though I created him and love him. I can’t imagine how unbearable it would be if I wasn’t evolutionarily obligated to love him. At the same time, I sympathize with the parents because 3-year-olds are the straight up worst sometimes. It doesn’t latter how much you correct them. They do not care.
That doesn’t excuse the singing or the encouraging of the running. I freak right out about the running and stomping daily. It just doesn’t make a difference.
I had a pretty zen attitude of “oh well, you have to deal with kids when you live in the world” right up until I heard “I bet you can’t catch me!” and that’s when I snapped and thought “You never once even considered the downstairs neighbors did you?!” But yes, I try to just accept that being annoyed by children is the price you pay for being alive because kids are still developing. I guess it’s not different than getting stuck behind an elderly person with a cane on the subway stairs when you’re late, just gotta DEAL WITH IT (by ranting on tumblr and suffering in silence. Though I’d never rant about an old person on the stairs, that would make me a monster. SO REALLY, we should all rethink why it’s so socially acceptable to viciously complain about children misbehaving. Though, I admit, I DID feel like a monster for complaining about a child.).
I REALLY DON’T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS HUFFINGTON POST
The curtain blowing against cardboard boxes in my kitchen is making the most horror movie sound effects ever. Come record them, horror film makers.
baseln said: Growing up I had an awful downstairs neighbor who would constantly come upstairs to yell at us for my walking/running. She would call my parents names and scowl at me. my parents then would yell at me for the smallest noise I made, like dropping a toy.
Oh man, that’s terrible. I’d never say something since that would make me a crazy person. At least you weren’t singing Tom Petty songs with the worst Tom Petty Impression ever.
I’ve pretty much had it with my upstairs neighbors. It’s a sweet, young little nuclear family but they are SO loud and inconsiderate I just can’t. The thing is, most of the apartments in NYC are old and not very soundproof. You’re always going to be hearing neighbor noises no matter what, and I can deal with that (sometimes it’s nice if you’re reading a scary story because then you know you’re not alone), but some people just go balls to the wall with being loud all the time and clearly not thinking about how unpleasant they’re making it for other people.
They have a little girl, and she’s adorable. When she first started walking and running around, you would hear teeny tiny little pattering and it was very cute. Soon though, she got bigger and now the running sounds like extreme pounding. It’s incredible, because it’s not a big apartment—where is she running to? I realize there’s plenty of judgement in the world to go around already for other people’s children, so I try not to be that person. Initially, I thought, “kids will be kids, oh well.” And then I started thinking “maybe they shouldn’t allow quite so much running indoors” because sometimes I’ll be trying to do work or have a migraine and it’s just a constant thunderous pounding from above that seems really unreasonable. And then yesterday I heard the mom say “I bet you can’t catch me!” And I was floored. They’re encouraging this????
And then I thought “Who am I to complain about this little family’s normal childrearing experience?” And then I was like WAIT. Running indoors is no special childhood privilege I experienced. I’m pretty sure “don’t run in the house” is a common rule for a lot of people. Isn’t running in the house the leading cause of hurting yourself on a coffee table corner or breaking a vase? I’m pretty sure I was scolded for that a handful of times. So I’m back at HOW DARE YOU.
But that’s not initially what I was even going to write about. I still give a lot of leniency to kids, because they don’t know better and thinking that a random parent should tell their kids not to do something problematic feels dirty even if it’s reasonable. But the DAD. He is constantly singing. He is tone deaf and an awful singer. And he just loudly sings all the time. This morning he was playing the guitar and singing “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown” and screwing it up so badly. And he does this early in the morning on weekends, or just on any day. That’s akin to blasting music all the time, which is in clear violation of decent neighbor behavior. Making loud noises is bad enough, but there’s a little something extra to someone who is clearly very, very, very bad at singing and yet does it anyway. It’s like, I’m giving my gift to the world! But you are not gifted! Stop! This isn’t “American Idol,” THIS IS MY LIFE. If you suck real bad at singing, maybe only do it sometimes, or away from where others can hear you. I mean, go ahead and record an album for all I care (in a far away recording studio), just maybe don’t do your Bob Dylan impression at 8am for the love of god.
So anyway, I cannot wait until their little daughter is like 12, or maybe even 8 or 9 and above. Because I predict she will be SO embarrassed by her dad, and then maybe he can finally feel the white hot shame he should already be feeling on a daily basis for ruining everyone’s lives.
PS - There was a period where every Saturday morning they would blast nothing but the music of Sublime.
nicepants said: to which article was it?
one about brunch