Neighbors

I'm feeling kind of heartbroken as I type this. Hoping that getting some words out will somehow turn my mood around. It's 8:20 pm, the boys have been asleep for a while, and I'm coming off a truly ghastly day. Our new downstairs neighbor (more on her in a minute) was having a ductless A/C installed today. I knew it was going to happen, knew from our experience how much goddamn noise it makes to drill through a brick wall, but I didn't think that it would interfere with BOTH of Abe's naps today. I didn't think that Jonah would come home with no socks under his sneakers, due to a vague conflict with the teacher I already don't like very much (he claims she took his socks away because he wasn't listening - currently trying via email to get to the bottom of THAT), and proceeded to have the shittiest afternoon possible. Abe actually seemed a little scared of him at times. He was howling, bellowing for food, refusing to tell me what he wanted, etc, when he wasn't flailing around on the floor and slapping me. He finally, gratefully, ceded to sleep at 7 pm. What I had to thank for this is his brand new clock, which has color-coded lights to signal to him when it is OK to wake and when it is not. This morning he got up to pee (since he now sleeps in underwear) too early, then decided he'd just stay up to watch the light change to green. Great.

Our new downstairs neighbor does not, shall we say, conform to the demographic profile of the building. She waltzed in and snapped up the apartment, paying all cash for it (apparently some family money). She appears to be an absent-minded academic. Abe and I met her earlier this week, and what she had to say to darling, adorable Abe was this: "I guess you'll have to get used to me." This morning, I was coming down the stairs on my way to take Jonah to school. I introduced them. She said, "But I already met you, didn't I?" She was confusing JONAH for ABE. This woman has not even the slightest clue about children, and she is moving into a building whose residents (counting from top to bottom) are a nearly 4 year old girl, two boys of 8 months and almost 4 years, and, in the basement, twin boys due about a month from now. She saw the strollers during the open house. I am praying she understands just what she is getting into.

Our departed neighbors are so, SO missed. They were Irish and Italian, Boston-born, and just the nicest people you could ever hope to wind up in a building with. I'd go so far as to say they felt like family. Emails I traded with them this week find them kind of shell-shocked about being gone from such a close-knit building, but happy about having more space for their family (which includes a seasonal grandma). They have a boy who is 6 and a baby just a couple months older than Abe, and even when we weren't seeing each other as often, I miss the bustle emanating from their apartment. Jonah misses the many cool cars he borrowed from James. I even miss their patio furniture. We're throwing a party for them in a couple of weeks. I can't wait to see them again.

This afternoon I looked out to the backyard and saw the new owner, kind of floating around in her own head, with a long pruning stick in her hand, absent-mindedly jabbing at high branches while the A/C installer called her, trying repeatedly to get her attention through her thick fog. It freaks me out that we're now to live our lives over the head of this kooky character, and I worry about the first passive aggressive note we get about "noise." As unbearable as the thought is, because I love this place, I suspect that in the Farewell Symphony of our young condo, we may be the next instrument to leave the stage.

OK, mood enhancement FAIL. Off to drink some yummy tea and play Angry Birds.