Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Neighbs

What more could possibly be said about Caleb’s ‘afterbirth,’ you ask? Well, our hospital experience in the days following Caleb’s birth was rough, but it was just the beginning of the most difficult month of our lives to date – no contest. Even now I wonder how we ever made it out alive, and I am certain it was purely by the grace of God. (In fact, it amazes me how anyone who has had a newborn lives to tell about it…yet I guess we continue on with only minimal brain damage. Though that is highly subjective…the minimal part).

Upon discharging from the hospital and arriving at our apartment, we were so thrilled to be in the comfort of our own home. Sean and I immediately laid down to catch some desperately needed sleep. SLAM! Shake. SLAM! SLAM! My eyes popped open but my body was unable to move. What was that!? Still in a daze, my mind sluggishly searched for an answer to the rude awakening.

Then it all came flooding back – the neighbors. As good fortune would have it, our apartment shared a landing with another apartment that housed six of the rowdiest college students at Long Beach State University who were fraught with boredom if they weren’t hosting beer pong tournaments on their patio Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights between the hours of 8 pm and 5 am. As a result, broken bottles and vomit were a staple of our stairwell (and no, not my vomit).

Even with all their higher education, they also didn’t seem to understand the concept of shutting a door quietly or climbing stairs without stomping. I never did grasp why all SIX of them found it necessary to do these things, which inevitably shook and reverberated throughout our apartment, jolting us to consciousness each time they occurred (which was often – there were six of them)! As if Caleb wasn’t already pushing us to our sleep deprivation limit. We tried talking to them about it but found more action was required, which resulted in this:

Believe me, sign making was not on the list of things I thought I’d be doing on Caleb’s fourth day of life.

More posts in the ‘Afterbirth’ series:

Caleb’s Afterbirth – the Hospital (Part 1)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Breastfeeding Blues (Part 3)

Caleb’s Afterbirth – Body Slammed (Part 4)
Caleb’s Afterbirth – Am I an Incompetent Parent (Part 5)

Also, read about Caleb’s birth:

Caleb’s Birth Story: Rated PG-13 for Language, Nudity, and Drugs 🙂

And here’s the 10 ways pregnancy crushed my dignity:

Part 1 – Constipation
Parts 2 & 3 – Appetite and Weight Gain
Part 4 – Mourning Sickness
Part 5 – Incontinence
Part 6 – Crazy Hormones
Parts 7, 8, & 9 – Pain, Pain, Pain
Part 10, the Pinnacle – Diarrhomit

A Culture of Isolation?

Two weekends ago we made Christmas cookies for our neighbs. That’s neighbors in Santa Barbara language. By the way – complete tangent – I JUST discovered that the term “the hood” comes from the word neighborhood…my annoying habit of shortening words led me to this eye-opening revelation. Genius! Oh also, did you know that the medicine “tums” is the baby talk way of saying tummy? Just discovered that one too.

Refocusing. We really desire to build relationships with our neighbors because we think it’s important to find ways to be a blessing to those around us. We thought cookies would accomplish that plus be a great way to introduce ourselves in our new neighborhood (we just bought a house and moved in in September). As we were passing out the cookies, it became clear that none of them knew each other (or just barely). They were all friendly to us, but we were dumbfounded that some of these people have been here for 18 years and don’t know any of their neighbors. Sean and I both knew our neighbors growing up…we were even close enough with some of them to invite them to our wedding. It also seems to stand in stark contrast to stories I’ve heard our elders tell of neighborhood camaraderie and ready willingness to lend a hand (particularly in hard times). In fact, the dictionary literally defines neighbor as “a person who shows kindliness or helpfulness towards his or her fellow humans.”

I’m not saying I’m immune…my first thought when we run out of eggs is “aw crap, we have to run to the store,” and never “hey we should go ask our neighbor if we can have an egg.” And I’ll be honest, most of the time I don’t even answer our door when someone knocks because I just assume it’s UPS dropping off a box or a solicitor. Anyways, I don’t really have anything profound to say…I just think it’s interesting and the whole cookie experience made me think. My hope is that over time we will be able to build relationships with our neighbors and love on them however we can – cookies, bbq’s, practical helpfulness, etc. Perhaps we will be able to change the culture of isolation in our hood to a culture of connection. I think it’s pretty important since after all, Jesus told us to love our neighbor and we might as well start with those physically close! 🙂

I’d love to hear your thoughts/ideas on the subject. Why do you think people have become more isolated from even those they live right next to? Do you have relationships with your neighbors? How do you cultivate those relationships? How have you blessed them?