The Paparazzi

There are six other kids in our immediate vicinity. Three boys are right across the hall from us until noon each day while their Grandma babysits. They are 7, 5 and 3. Cute, tow-heads, sun-kissed chubby limbs, sparkling eyes. All boy. Then upstairs there are three more. An 8 year old boy, 6 year old girl and 4 year old boy. All six of these kids treat us like we are famous. To the point of it being completely ridiculous. They beg to come inside. They love our dog. They love our apartment. They love our pool toys. They love our games and puzzles and art supplies. They love Maya and Jonah. They make us things, give us toys, offer to share anything they have. When they hear us leaving to go somewhere they come flying outside to find out where we're going and if they can come too. To be fair, M & J love them too, and have had many hours of lovely summer free play with all of them--several times I bought packs of glowsticks at the craft store and the kids played outside in the dark until they were sweaty and tired and covered with mosquito bites. Three of the kids were our regular pool friends, and they would swim together almost every other day.
Sometimes, though, it is annoying to have kids flocking around you asking you questions:
"Where are you going?"
"Can I come?"
"Where is your dog?"
"Let's play at your house!"
"I'll go get my bike and come with you."
"Oh, good, I love going to Target, I'll come too."
"Can I have a sleepover at your house?"
"Will you babysit me when my mom goes to work?"
"Can I hold the baby?"
"Can I walk your dog?"
"Can I come into your apartment?"
And eventually, they stopped asking and just started coming in the door without knocking or asking. I had several wrestling matches with the oldest boy at the door. A couple times, we snuck out the patio door when we went on a walk, just out of sheer non-desire to answer that many questions and fight our way through the crowd loitering on our front doormat. And I'm sorry, but 3 kids is plenty to have with me when I walk to Target. I can't imagine many things less fun than taking someone else's kids with me too. Picture me, like a little Pied Piper of Children--carrying one, and a flock of others surrounding me--fingering the action figures and asking for junk food. Ditto with walking my dog through the apartment complex. I guess it was good assertiveness training for me, to be able to say "No" firmly and clearly, lest anyone run to ask their parent if they could come with me before I had time to clarify that I wasn't offering free summer field trips.
The kids made me sad too--obviously there wasn't a lot of enriching material spread around their apartments. They watched copious amounts of T.V. and were subjected to a dazzling array of punishments for being "naughty" at home--including wall sits, having their toys thrown away, not being allowed to have snacks when they were hungry, having to sit and watch the other kids in the pool because they were not allowed to swim that day, being spanked with "Mr. Happy Butt" (whatever that was)...Broke my heart really...They were all good kids. And sometimes I felt guilty for being quick to say no about taking them along with us, or having them all over in our apartment.
Many times they would knock at the door and ask my kids to play and I would ask them if they wanted to play. If they were involved in something, Maya and Jonah would always say "No thanks, maybe later." And this answer was a source of the utmost mystery to the kids, none of whom would ever be involved in something in their own place engaging enough to turn down a playdate with someone else.
The assertiveness training went for all of us, not just me--Maya discovered that one of the boys wouldn't stop doing annoying things when asked nicely, as is her usual style. Several times I overheard her raising her voice and yelling at him--"Knock it off, Josh!", and I had to smile...I asked her about it once and she just shrugged and said "He won't stop if you ask nice, you have to yell." Hmmm, just might come in handy some day.