The Knock at the Door: I’m being tormented by our neighbor’s six-year-old.
Im being tormented by our neighbors six-year-old.
After a few weeks, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had tried polite refusal, contrived excuses, even pretending we weren’t home. I knew I had to confront the situation head-on – but how exactly do you confront a six-year-old?
Neighbor Girl lives across the street, and she used to walk into my house every weekend sans invitation, helping herself to my refrigerator and my daughter’s toys. This situation is foreign to me, considering I grew up on a farm in Iowa. My only neighbor kids were my cousins, and – because we were related and all – my parents had no problem shooing them away like pigeons when they’d outworn their welcome. Besides, we’re Lutheran, and Lutherans don’t go anywhere without calling first.
I’m a woman who likes privacy. Having small children whom I didn’t name building dams out of my shoe collection unsettles me. Actually, it evokes a visceral reaction not unlike my response to petitioners and mimes. After I left Iowa, I lived first in Chicago and then in Kansas City, where I didn’t know my neighbors, and my neighbors didn’t know me. Even after my daughter came along, we never had other children around. It wasn’t until we arrived in suburbia that we noticed those people who lived in the other houses on the street actually talked. And sometimes (gasp!) crossed our property boundaries with extensions of friendship. I found it quaint and old-timey – the way a neighborhood should be – as long as I could control the length of the interactions.
When Neighbor Girl’s family first moved in, my husband and I rejoiced. A six-year-old! Across the street from our five-year-old! They’d be best friends and make mud pies and lo, our daughter would be so entertained! It never occurred to us that we would be peeling Neighbor Girl off our home-loving, individualist daughter as she staunchly refused to play dress-up when she’d been happily coloring up until the knock came at the door. Our daughter likes Neighbor Girl a lot, but she doesn’t appreciate being barged in on any more than I do. Therein lies the rub.
The Neighbor Girl situation came to a head one Saturday when I foolishly answered the door at 8 a.m. to find a freckled face staring up at me. “Can I come in and play?” Neighbor Girl asked. My daughter stood behind me on the stairs, hopeful this would mean she didn’t have to clean her room. I looked down at my pajamas, felt my unwashed hair. I caved, and with that, I lost The Force.
Flustered, I continued to clean the house. But these children! They dragged out every toy! They messed up every room as soon as I moved to clean it! I could feel the corners of my mouth tightening as my voice took on an edge: “DO NOT MESS UP THIS ROOM!” I said in my sternest mommy voice. “CAN’T YOU SEE I’M CLEANING? GO OUTSIDE.”
My husband had gone to get an oil change or this never would have happened. The seventh of eight, he grew up in a town, accompanied by a roving band of pirate children who raided and plundered kitchens until one parent or another would chase them out with a broom. (Maybe I exaggerate, but not much.) When he returned home two hours later to find me shaking in my closet, a bottle of glass cleaner gripped in one hand like a weapon, he was shocked at my frustration.
“Why didn’t you just send her away?” he asked.
“I did! Five times!” I wailed, crumpling in embarrassment.
It’s true. I did send her away. She would walk across the street to her house, and then ten minutes later the doorbell would ring as she pleaded with my daughter to join her across the street. My girl was having none of it. She wanted to stay in her own house, play with her own toys, and I didn’t blame her. We didn’t ask for an 8 a.m. wake-up call – why should I force my natural hermit out if she wanted Barbie to do Jazzercize in her own bedroom?
Finally, my husband put an end to the madness and firmly sent Neighbor Girl home. He used the same exact words that I did, but she accepted them from him. She left. I cried. Apparently, I thought, I’m not cut out for this suburban stuff after all.
We tried various techniques to contain the visits. My husband promised to be my partner in Operation Neighbor Girl. We tried various techniques to contain the visits:
Good cop / bad cop: This timeworn technique works in several ways. First, it rids us of Neighbor Girl for the rest of the day. Second, it keeps my reputation as friendly mommy intact for the occasions on which I have to talk to Neighbor Mommy, who is a delightful person and no doubt unaware that her child roams freely on the days she’s out of the house. Third, it reinforces my husband’s Man Card should we ever need someone to get a kickball off the roof or rescue a cat from a tree.
Timers: Whether we set the timer for a half-hour or three hours, the timer functions much like a clipboard at a fraternity party, providing instant, third-party authority. I’d love you to stay another six hours and force me to spend my Saturday dividing up toys, but my lands, the timer! We certainly can’t argue with a piece of ticking plastic.
The word “hosting”: Neighbor Daddy seems not to notice when Neighbor Girl rambles over, or else he thinks we don’t mind. I mentioned the last time I saw him that we wouldn’t be able to host his daughter before noon on the weekends, as that was when we polished our silver. In our current-day, business-casual world, the mere formality of the word “hosting” strikes fear into most people’s hearts, because God forbid they have to return that sort of favor.
Calling ahead: I mentioned to Neighbor Mommy that it would be good to call ahead in upcoming weekends as we had some dangerous house projects coming up and wouldn’t want the girls to get hurt. Of course, the most dangerous thing we’re doing is planting thyme, but it’s far easier to say, “No, not right now, dear,” over the phone than to an upturned, freckled face at your door.
It’s been a few months since that fateful Saturday morning when I found myself questioning the benefit of living without a barbed-wire fence, and I admit, these techniques have worked. The neighbors are good people; they simply didn’t realize the constant visits bothered me. Since then, the knocks at our door have mostly been invitations for our daughter to play at Neighbor Girl’s house, and I’ve made it a point to show up within the hour to tote my girl home under any pretence necessary.
And what do you know – when Neighbor Girl’s visits slowed down, I actually enjoyed them.
I had a similar experience a few years ago, and this was before my daughter was even born. My then boyfriend and I lived in a house next door to a family with 4 or 5 kids, that we didn’t know at all, and their only son would come over day after day asking to come in, asking to play with our dogs, etc. I’m pretty sure that whoever was watching him had no idea that he was asking strangers if he could come into their house, but why not I have no idea, he was only five. I can’t imagine letting a five year old that far out of my sight, even living on the semi-quiet street that we did. We never actually ended up convincing him that it wasn’t OK for him to come over and eventually he would just look in the front window instead of ringing/knocking incessantly. Finally we moved and left him to harass whoever moved in next, who I can only hope wasn’t someone that would hurt him in any way.
Yes, it is a little disturbing how some people seem to think neighbors, even ones they don’t know well are A-OK for the kids to drop in on. I have actually heard someone with this laissez-faire visiting policy say that it was probably alright because he checked the database and saw that we have no sex offenders in our neighborhood. That statement makes me want to shake him by the shoulders and say “No–we have no convicted, duly registered sex offenders admitting to live in our neighborhood. And besides, your kid pops over at odd times and bugs me to death.”
Boy, did this article hit home with me. Our neighbors have a boy and a girl very close in age to my kids, and their constant knocking on the door and showing up uninvited has been a big issue. Most days they are waiting at their front door when we come home from school and pounce on us, not understanding that my kids would like some downtime. Any time we are on our back porch or in our back yard and they hear us, they are at the fence, wanting to come over. And if they come over and knock on the door and we don’t answer, they will pound and pound and even try to peer through the windows if they think we are home. Absolutely no concept of the need for privacy, and I know much of this is at the urging of their mother (whom I like!!). I’ve found the only solution is to respond firmly but politely with, “Sorry, we can’t play right now” and then go inside. The more I try to explain or make excuses, the harder it usually is. But once I stopped feeling like I I had to give them a reason, the better I felt. I know I sound like a cranky neighbor, but I guess I just don’t feel like I have to be available simply because others need to be entertained.
I live in a neighbourhood full of young children and this drives me nuts. I exercise in the morning and I refuse to let them come in the house until I am finished. I also can’t stand how if there are toys on porch they just take them and play with them. I think I am the mean mommy on the block because I have no problem sending them home. I confessed this on truuconfessions.com as sometimes I feel like I am being mean. I just feel like it is my house, sometimes it’s the only place you can get any peace.
We are fortunate to have great neighbors, but this summer was a struggle with our neighbor constantly ringing the doorbell wanting to play and my daughter just didn’t understand why she couldn’t always just go play. I try to “host” often so that my daughter isn’t just always going next door, but there are times when they are fighting and bickering and I just go ahead and play the mean mommy and send her home. It is definitely a blessing and a curse to have neighbors! We did get a call the other day that one of the neighbor’s kids was in our yard just hanging out. This is a HUGE problem because we have a fenced yard. The last thing I need is to get a call that my dog is out. Ultimately I agree that it is my house and my sanctuary, so if I have to be mean to get them to leave, then I do it!
What this article is really about , and the bulk of these comments are from people who are too passive aggressive to set boundaries. How hard is it to tell a child, no, you can’t come over this early in the morning? How is setting boundaries mean? The idea that you can’t be nice yet set limits is so pathetic. The whole “takes a village” concept is based on that . Are people really so weak-minded that they can’t tell a child, sweetly but firmly, no? What a great example you are setting for your child. “See honey, mommy can’t nicely and politely express what she needs, so she hides from children, lies, caves in to demands, then makes disparaging comments behind neighbor’s backs.”
I find it interesting that a few comments, as well as the article itself, think the parents don’t realize their child/children are imposing on the neighbors. I rather assume our neighbors send their children to my house (without calling first) because they want to get rid of them for a while. I have caught my neighbor after she sent her kids to my house (without asking) and then set off to go to the grocery. As much as my children love to play with hers, I am not a free babysitting service. When I called her on it, the incessant knocks at our door without invitation suddenly stopped. Some parents are just not considerate neighbors.
Amen, Lola. It never ceases to amaze me how often people complain about problems that stem from their own inability to set a limit or say what they think. Wasn’t it the great Ann Landers who said that someone can only take advantage of you with your permission?
No kidding, Lola! My parents did this when I was a kid. There were certain times when they just didn’t want us to play with the neighborhood kids, for whatever reason, and we were expected to tell the kids (or they would, if the situation warranted), “I can’t play right now. I’ll come over tomorrow.” No big deal. And now I know that it can be done AND good relationships with the neighbors can be maintained. Kids need to learn boundaries from people other than their parents, as well.
It’s not that the parents are “afraid” of the children. It’s that they are good people and mean well and aren’t always sure how to say no. The same problems happen with friendships, relationships, and coworkers/bosses/companies. It’s good to set boundaries, but it takes time to figure out what those boundaries should be. It’s a learning process.
I think this article helps open the discussion amongst parents. It’s totally true that some people don’t think twice about sending their kids to the neighbor’s house. Perhaps this will bring about an awareness about when that is appropriate. While some people have no problem voicing their opinions (with or without tact), it doesn’t come naturally to everyone–myself included.
I did have to learn to grow a backbone (and say no all the time now). I wrote the article because I was surprised I would be put in that situation. There are a lot of factors to take into consideration. Do you like the parents? Do you socialize with the parents? Do you want your kids to be friends? Do the kids want to be friends? Does the kid even listen when you do say no? If not, how do you escalate it? I had to think through all of those things before deciding how I would deal with my own neighborhood. Because I do like the parents and the kid and the kids like each other, I realized direct confrontation would shut down all those relationships. Instead, we learned to smile and offer a different time to come over that would be more acceptable to us instead of just shoving the child out the door. Or using the tips in the article. Whatever works for you individually.
I’ve sat neighbor kids down and asked them if I need to call their parents to come and get them, and that works, but it’s a last-ditch effort for sure. Those kids don’t necessarily want to play with my daughter anymore. Don’t forget that you do have to live next to these people, and especially if the kids go to the same school, you’re not the only person affected by your actions.
The other parents are taking advantage of you plain and simple. Too bad you’re not my neighbor, I’d love to offload my kids onto you so I can have some quiet time in bed with coffee and the paper each weekend. I’m surprised for 8am they’re not hoping their kid can eat breakfast at your place too!
Just nut up and the next time their kid comes over, call the parents on the phone and say you’re sending their kid back to them, but can your kid go to their place at 9 or 10?