Joy

My boys find joy in the smallest things. They love to be outside. Whether it is to take every toy out of the garage and place it around the driveway and lawn so that parking a car is completely impossible or put it in the street so that you can play Car dodgeball on your way home. They love to be outside. It has been very weird weather wise here and we have been taking full advantage of it. So have my flowers and they are starting to come up everywhere!

The boys are finally at an age where they enjoy playing with each other, for small moments that it. They do this best outside, chasing each other and throwing balls at mommy because at this point i am bigger than a barn.  We are very, very lucky to have neighbors that have kids around the same ages as my boys that, according to their moms, wait to see our garage door go up and then hurtle out their own doors. I love that my kids can run around and play and get all the crazy out while i gab on the side of the road with the other mothers. I SO never thought i would be doing this! We totally lucked out on moving to this neighborhood.

Why is it that there is always a few kids that spoil the fun sometimes though? There is a pack of teenagers in the neighborhood that seem to make it their goal to intimidate others. Now i don’t intimidate easily now that i am a mother. One day i know this will probably get me in trouble, but growing up with just my father as a parent I learned how to be tough more than i learned how to accessorize.  I can kickbox (stop laughing this was before my stomach was bigger than the mini van) and fight better than a lot of my girlfriends and my dad taught me how to take care of myself. How to use fighting as a last resource, so when this pack of teenagers comes through our street making trouble, i don’t back away like the other mothers. With a lot of them, it has garnered me a measure of respect. It is unspoken that i will not tolerate them messing with my boys. I am not threatening to tell their parents, i merely want them to respect my area and my children.

Now for those of you wondering about the not telling the parents statement, well several people have tried talking to them. I cannot speak for the parents of these boys because i always say you have to walk a mile in someone’s shoes to understand their actions. Let’s just say it has not been met with great results. Now in several cases i was present to see the conversation take place and in others i was not, but in all cases the parents were indifferent and nonchalant about their child’s actions. In some cases there has been vandalism involved (busted car windows, petty theft and defacing of property). Ok before you go thinking i live in the ghetto, it has only been a handful of incidences over the last 2 years, during the summer when all teenagers trapped in the house are bored (no i do not mean to imply that this excuses them from their actions), and we know how it is doing it. The fact is that the parents are not willing to handle the situation and have just told us to deal with it ourselves. Is it my responsibility to correct someone else’s child? I don’t think so. I don’t expect some one to do this to my boys. Yet this is the message in every case that i have witnessed with the parents and i just don’t understand the attitude.  I can understand frustration (try working full time in a building where you are located as far as possible from the closest bathroom while dealing with first morning sickness and then uncontrollable bladder) we all as parents go through it. It is a part of raising any child.

Well i will have to get off my soap box here, i have yet again gotten away from the actual point of the post and i could go on about this subject. I don’t feel it is my place to speak for other parents. I don’t live in the house and i don’t know what is going on there. I just believe that you treat people with the respect that you expect to be treated with. I try to live my life that way and teach it to my boys. All while trying not to pee my pants.

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