Twinkle light fear.

I like to think that I am pretty easy going with regards to noisy neighbours. Having been a music loving party gal. I lived for loud music. I played my tunes loud and bass even louder. Now the situation is a little different.

My kids are the loud ones. They split eardrums at 100ft and I am so apologetic to those nearby.  But they are kids, right!?

I always say ‘at least the noise will stop at around 7:30’. Bedtime. Peacetime. Beer time.

The block that we have moved into is a lovely little complex with 10 apartments. There are a range people living here – A couple of families. An amazing older couple at the other end of the hall. A sweet little lady that speaks no English. The partiers and a whole lot of dogs.

The complex wraps around a little swimming pool and communal space. People are happy to sit out together and have a chat. It’s a really friendly atmosphere.

It all sounds so exotic compared to the grey of my old victorian converted flat but this place is not perfect. The palm trees in the grounds need trimmed and I’m actually told that they are a fire hazard in the summer heat. But us Scots have not had to deal with a whole load of palm tree so I really don’t know so much about that!

The pool cleaning days and complex cleaning days seem to be a little mixed up – the pool guy will come on, say a Tuesday and it’ll then look all lovely and sparkly with no crap floating in it then the next day the complex cleaner will come with his leaf blower and blow all the surrounding shit back into the pool. It all seems really strange.

Having always lived in close vicinity to others, I’m used to seeing and hearing all sorts of stuff that I really could have done without. Once I watched a man poop in an envelope in the back of his 4×4. I’ve witnessed a young fella chase another fella down the street with an axe. And lay in my bed listening to helicopters hovering above the house while people were looting and setting cars on fire near by (London Riots).

Right now though I have developed “twinkle light fear”. This is when my next door neighbours puts their twinkle lights on and sit directly outside my bedroom window on an evening. They turn on the lights a while before they actually go and sit there. It’s like they are giving me an hour’s notice to maybe go set up my bed in another room. It’s not so bad when there’s only two of them. But when a party situation arises, well let’s just say that we don’t have double glazing…or indeed windows that close properly. I can hear and smell everything. There are certain things that you do not want to hear people doing and other times when I think to myself “god, how can they sit there and talk such crap” – Then I remember that Marijuana is legal here (for medical use of course). The sweet aroma is often in the air when I’m drifting off to sleep. It is there when I wake up too. Seriously these guys must be smoking all night long. I don’t think they actually sleep, which is weird as they are so stoned all the time Shouldn’t it be more chilled, munchies then sleep?

Luckily they are all very sweet.

Placid, sweet, stoned, but noisy neighbours with twinkle lights.

Hysterical blindness

Silver has just discovered the mega tantrum. Yes. She is two and a half. But it has been pretty much plain sailing so far. Little tantrums here and there. Now…whoosh. There she goes. She screams with such ferocity that it makes my ears pop.

While trying to get ready for a rare night out, little lovely Silver decided that she was not going to go to bed. Or rather that she will go to bed, as long as it was on top of Phoenix while emptying her water cup on the pillow – Nope, not going to happen!

So the tantrum starts. First the ear splitting shriek then onto low gurning with every breath. Her little face was red and she swings from the bedroom door handle – both feet up, making the most of her childlike upper body strength.

What can I do when I look into my child’s eyes to calm her down and yet I don’t exist? She couldn’t see anymore. Hysterical blindness has set in.

Wait…Just, wait. I sit down on the bed, pick up my make-up bag and keep getting ready. The screaming subsides to groaning noises but with some coughs added in for good measure. Her throat is probably as dry as a popcorn fart.

After another five minutes. She walks across and sits her ass next to me. Smiles and says “Water, Mummy”. Then gets into bed and closes her eyes.

That’s it. She has forgotten all about it. She has moved on. Maybe she realised half way through screaming that she didn’t actually know why she was screaming. But added an extra couple of minutes of grunting, to give herself time to maybe remember,or just to make it look more effective.

I do sometimes wish that I could deal with my problems in this way. I bet I would feel so amazingly relaxed if I just swung from the door frame screaming and crying for ten minutes…then moved the hell on.