When we were searching for our forever home four years ago, we all had opinions about what our neighborhood should be like.
M didn’t want to live in a house too close to anyone else’s.
I didn’t care if we could pass cups of sugar from our kitchen window to our neighbor’s, as long as those neighbors were nice. And close to our age.
Because, after years of raising kids in a lovely neighborhood, where the average age was 102, we were ready for some same-stage-of-life friends. Our kids were ready for some playmates. Actually, they didn’t know they were ready for playmates, but I was ready for them to have some neighbors who would entertain them for hours.
Then we found our current house, and I knew WITHOUT A DOUBT this was the house we would live in for the next couple decades. Part of the appeal was this awesome park, just around the corner. THIS WAS IT. I could already see the hours our kids would spend swinging while I solved the world’s problems with whatever friendly neighbors were around.
M wasn’t so sure. He loved the house, but he thought the lot was a little small. Too close to the other houses for him.
WHO CARES? I asked.
Our realtor explained the builder intentionally made the lots small to get families outside and in to the community areas.
M shot her a cynical look and said, “Or the builder just wanted to fit a bunch of houses on his land.”
Maybe that was also true, but I’m hear to tell you, that builder knew what he was doing. The neighborhood, the neighbors, and the park are a gift from God. A GIFT FROM GOD. Scads of fifth grade girls who love to help me with the kids. Sweet neighbor boys and girls left and right who do things like (I kid you not) start impromptu games like Red Rover.
Which, by the way, I don’t know why the above picture looks like a) I’m a PI (private investigator for those of you who didn’t watch Magnum) and b) Sara looks like she’s not interested in coming out to the park. Sara is always interested in coming out to the park. And, as you can tell by Catie’s anxious stance, Catie is always interested in Sara coming out to the park.
Not only do these sweet neighbors always play with my kids, but the moms that live on the park are always quick with the yogurt drinks and fruit and (as is the case with the picture below), brownies for the kids.
So, there you go, cynical M. The builder may have just been crowding houses into a neighborhood.
But, boy, I can tell you. It sure works for us.
