(you've been warned - this is a long, pictureless story that is a combination of a proper venting session and a "it's Friday so an extra long coffee break is in order" kind of thing)
I have a feeling that I'm not the only one who has felt the urge to scream at her neighbours most days.
This, my friends, is what happens when you live in an old, Victorian rowhouse.
See...here is the full story. When hubs and I bought our house, we knew it was attached on both sides. The listing told us so (we are so smart). However, in this great city of ours, finding an affordable (take that with a grain of salt), detached home right downtown is, well, next to impossible. So attached was pretty much our only option.
So we asked about the neigbours. Empty nesters on one side and an older (quite old) grandmother type on the other. I asked about noise levels and the current owner said it wasn't an issue unless grams had her tv on super loud once in a while.
Good enough for me.
We moved in and honestly had no issues. Empty-nesters to the left are amazing, lovely neighbours. We never hear them and we chat over the fence. Grams rarely turned on her tv, nonetheless left it blaring, so we didn't mind.
I think it was about one month after we moved in when Grams passed away. :-( We never even met her - I tried a few times to knock on her door and say hi, but she wasn't all that interested in neighbours, I guess.
Her kids came by to clean up her house and get it ready to sell. It took them MONTHS to do anything to the house. Months of an empty house next to us.
It then took eons to sell ( thanks to it being over priced in need of a proper gut job IMO).
So hubs and I were living the dream. Awesome quiet empty nesters on one side, and an empty house on the other. What could go wrong?
Um...yeah. You know where this is going.
The house finally sold to a really nice woman. Let's call her Sue. Sue moved in and with her came her daughter, her son in law and their kid. Their one and a half year old cutie patootie son. And a few other non-relatives moved in. I think there are 5 adults living there. And that cute kid.
They weren't planning on gutting the house (which is too bad because we offered to split the cost of insualating the shared wall), but they were planning on loving the house and not turning it into a multi unit dwelling. Sweet.
Here is the day I knew we'd have issues.
It was a Thursday in March. We were in the throws of the
basement renovation and I ran into Sue outside as I was putting out the recycling.
J: Sue! Nice to see you. I wanted to apologize for the noise during the day. I know it must be annoying but it is almost over.
S: Oh hi. Please don't worry - it really doesn't bother me. (so nice, right?)
J: Really? Oh. Okay - great!
S: We really don't mind noise at all.
J: (??? Weirdo) Perfect. But like I said, it is almost done.
S: We are a really rambunctious household, so noise is fine with us.
J: (okay?) Oh that's...fun.
S: Yeah - music, stomping on the stairs, whatever. Really doesn't bother us.
J: (oh shi*t) Okay. Good to know. See ya.
That is when I walked inside our house and yelled for J:
HONEY, WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM!
I'm not stupid. I know what her over-acceptance of noise meant. They were going to get LOUD.
So here is what we deal with on a semi regular basis:
1. Baby screaming. Like top of his lungs, screaming. I always feel bad at first...I'm totally cold hearted.
2. Music - one of the guys over there is a producer for a band and they practice in the basement sometimes.
3. The baby likes to run up and down the hallway for fun. He must be the fattest baby ever according to the sounds of his footsteps. (he's not really - totally normal sized cute kid)
4. Random late night moving of furniture. Like at midnight.
5. The golf ball. Most babies play with big bouncy balls, I thought. Not this one. He bounces an f'n golf ball. Do you know what that sounds like on hardwood floors? You don't want to know. It is the kind of repetetive sound that makes you want to tear your hair out and punch walls and wreck things. It makes me want to stomp over to their house and offer them $500 to break that sweet baby's heart by taking away his favourite 'toy'.
6. Late night 'play' time with the baby. Instead of sleeping, we hear the sounds of Sue playing with the little guy. Onnnnnnnne, twwwwwooooooo, THREEEEEEEE!!!! WTF. Please, get that baby on a schedule and PUT HIM TO BED.
7. Did I mention THE GOLF BALL?!!!
For real though - the people are SUPER nice. They really are. They are a loving, warm family who just happen to live in a house with NO insulation between the houses. I literally think it is our plaster wall, empty space, and then their plaster wall.
I've just lost my patience with it. I love my house but I don't know if I could do attached again. Well - maybe if there was a brick wall between us. And a layer of insulation.
So please tell me - I'm not alone, right? I can't be the only one in this city who looks at her husband everynight and says "WHAT ARE THEY DOING?!"
Oh, I know.
I could really use some commiseration so please, help me out. Do you have a drummer living next door? A woman who walks in high heels ALL DAY LONG? On hardwood? Do tell :-)
PS I know I promised no pictures but...those were pretty perfect :-)