Becoming that Neighbor

Loveys, so Thursday night I was trying to sleep and I kept hearing noises outside. I'm already not sleeping well so the noises annoyed me further. I finally got out of bed, looked at the clock (10 pm) and went to the window. Hm. A whole bunch of teenagers right outside our house, in front of the streetlight, taking pictures of themselves with their phones.

Pregnant woman not impressed.

Jeff's solution was to turn on the porch light.

That didn't work. So I pulled on a hoodie over my pajamas, opened the door and stepped outside.
"Hey!" I yelled. They were not far away from me and yet only like one looked in my direction! So I scream, "HEY!" All eyes on me.

"It's late and you guys are being really loud!" I yell. Quiet for a second. (I am now my mother.)

"Okay, ma'am," one of the guys said (at least he said it somewhat contritely). I go back in and shut the door. Jeff is watching them from the window. The whole crew files into the house next door. The one where new people have been moving in all week and I didn't think they were sleeping there yet. The one that I'm supposed to take a "welcome" cake to soon. Tricky. I'm sure I'm now known as the "crazy, pregnant woman next door" by the kids (here's the worst, there could have been adults out there too, but I didn't put on my glasses before going outside so I have no idea).

It's one of those "I'm a grown-up woman and I yell at loud teenagers" moments. Sweet Jeff just puts his arm around me as we go back upstairs and he assures me that it's a good thing, we've set a precedent and hopefully this will deter any more shenanigans (by "this" I mean myself).

I truly am lucky to have Jeff.

For example, he took over some cinnamon rolls to the neighbors tonight as a "welcome." :)

It's been a full few days. And I think that's been good for me. I can be pretty emotional during pregnancy. Time with friends helps. Lincoln's new habit of telling me I'm his girl helps too. :) I mean, really, I melt every time. Both my kids are just incredibly sweet. The other day I told Ashtyn to hug me, that I needed to feel loved. She gives me a tight hug, then just looks up at me, really studying me. Then she looks at my belly and smiles and says, "Now how's Honey Bear doing?" Precious. (The kids call the new baby "Honey Bear".)

There's nothing quite like the love of family. I was thinking the other day about how Ashtyn sneaks and climbs into our bed all the time. I wake up and she's just between me and Jeff. It can be annoying, to be honest, when you're tired and she's stealing your pillow. But I understand it so well. Nothing feels quite as safe as Mom and Dad. (I know for some children, that's not the case sadly.) For me, when my dad was home, I never worried. (It helped that he's super tall and strong and carried a gun for a living, I suppose!) Come to think of it, my mom always made me feel safe too. She's a strong woman.

You guys know I can be a bit unsteady when Jeff's not home. (Read: crazy and terrified and prone to calling the police) It's amazing to me that when he's home, it takes me about ten seconds to fall asleep. I grew up in a home where I always felt safe. And I feel blessed to live in a home where Jeff makes me and the kids feel safe. Maybe it's the love that does that. I don't want to take for granted the love of family. It's such a gift. And it matters the most.

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