neuroticgirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the neighbors I have to find a way to rid myself of my redneck podunk neighbors. Without moving. They've got these 2 kids that they don't watch. The boy is 5 but he's got some kind of disorder which makes him about 2 in emotional years. The girl is 3 and she's probably the smartest one in the entire family. Which isn't saying much, really. I can't take these children anymore. I've tried to talk to their mom about them and she just smiles like a fucking reject and nods her head a lot. My first complaint is that the mother, who is also named Christie, only spelled Kristi, does not watch the children AT ALL. She tells them to go play outside and then she locks the screen door so that they can't get back in to interupt her phone time. Can I just stop to remind you that both of these children are essentially 3 years old? Outside. With no fenced in yard. And no supervision. So the kids are always in my yard, taking my kids bikes, taking my kids toys, breaking my windows with a wooden baseball bat (!), scratching my car with rocks and toys and whatever else they can get their hands on, and stealing anything that isn't nailed down. Last year they broke the door to my shed, crawled in, and ruined my box of Christmas ornaments and christmas stuff that the children have made for me over the years. All of this and the mother smiles and nods like a retarded chimpanzee. The children aren't disciplined AT ALL. And it definitely shows. The little boy has already been expelled from his school. Not suspended, but EXPELLED. The little girl has been kicked out of three daycares just this year. When I catch the kids doing shit they aren't supposed to do, in my yard, I'll yell at them or get onto them and it is routinely greeted with little comments about me not being their mother. One time the boy tried to spit on me. I'd go to jail if I snatched the little brat up and beat the shit out of him, so I do the only thing I know to do, I go to the mother. The mother is not the kind of person that you want to have to actually converse with. She's frequently got a cast or a bandage or stitches or some kind of injury from the numerous bar fights that she gets into. The police are always over there for some reason or another. Usually domestic disturbance because she's running around trying to stab the boyfriend of the hour. There is no reasoning with her. And it's beyond damage to just my house, they've also spray painted the shed and vehicle of my other neighbor. Child protective services have been out to her house numerous times from where other neighbors have called and nothing is ever done. Yesterday I got my insurance cards (which is a whole other story that I'll write about another time) in the mail. I've been waiting on these new cards for 2 months now. I go to the mail box and there they are. No envelope. No identification stickers. No address. No nothing. The little neighbor boy had gotten to the mailbox before me and torn it all to hell and back. The cards are useless. Two months of waiting so that I can go to my new doctor. And they are useless. So I've had it and I go to let her know that I've had it. The crazy bitch starts telling me how she saw my children at the mailbox tearing it up. My children. Who spent the night with their grandparents and hadn't even been home. They tore up the cards from all the way across town. So then I see the envelope sticking out of the trunk of the little brats powerwheels jeep. Confronted with this information the woman starts screaming at me that I don't know how hard it is to raise 2 children. Right. Because even though it appears that I have 2 children and one on the way, this is somehow not the case. Somehow my 2 children don't really count as 2. The bitch goes crazy. I don't even understand what she's saying anymore. So I continued telling her that her children are not welcome in my yard or at my house and when I've finished saying what I have to say I turn around and walk home. She's still yelling after I close my door. What the hell do I do? 6:01 p.m. - 12.30.01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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