We live in a lovely house on a private estate, and I’m proud to be part of a proper little community. Just like in the olden days, we let our kids play out and at times it can feel as though the only socialising we do is with the people on our doorstep. This is not a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination. We are exceptionally fortunate that many of our neighbours have kids the same age as ours, and lots of us are on the same page when it comes to our outlook on life.
There are of course exceptions to this rule. Like the delightful woman that gave me a character assassination in front of my own children, after a nine hour trip back from Greece last May. Her beef was that we hadn’t informed her in advance that we were having work done on the house in our absence. Unfortunately the workmen had upset her by making a racket too early.
Apparently this was all my fault because I’m “so selfish”!
She has gone on to complain to us and our landlord a handful times in the last seven months – about the noise levels. Most recently giving my poor hubby a telling off because he had lost his temper and shouted that morning. This woman has one child who has just turned 16, so it’s been a very long time since she’s had experience of witching hours and kids that wake up in the middle of the night. While I don’t care for her one little bit, there is a small part of me that wants to knock on her door and spell out for her how difficult our lives are to muster some empathy.
I want her to know how grinding it is to have a child who pushes you to the end of your tether every single day. How incredibly hard we are trying to stay cool, calm and collected in the face of adversity, but how beaten down by life we feel far too often. And although we are sorry about the noise, it is not at the top of our priority list. We have bigger fish to fry – like getting our daughter to a happier place and helping our family back on it’s feet.
Oh by the way, did I mention that Polly is autistic? No probably not because her diagnosis came after we stopped exchanging pleasantries.
I felt so bad for my poor hubby, because I know how hard he’s been trying to not lose his temper. To stay calm and not shout. To follow all the rules and GET. IT. RIGHT!
Except there is no getting it right is there? All parenting is hard work, but parenting a child with autism is so challenging it’s likely to bring even the toughest of us to our knees.
I think it’s too easy for parents to judge other parents. After all they’ve got direct experience of the situation. Or so they think, but they haven’t of course. No-one knows what goes on inside your four walls apart from you and the other people that live within them.
If you hear shouting and screaming coming from your neighbours occasionally, please don’t assume the worst – that they must be awful human beings who are damaging their children. You have no idea how hard their day has been, and how tough their lives are.
As for me, I truly am sorry about the noise, and wish it could be a different way.
Really I do.