Dear downstairs neighbors...

I want to start this letter off by saying I am sorry.  I am sorry that my three rambunctious children feel the need to leap off of furniture at 7am when you are trying to sleep.  I am sorry that they sound like a herd of buffalo migrating through the Grand Tetons.  I am sorry that no matter how many times my husband and I say the words, "Don't jump off the couch!" Or "Stop thumping!" my kids forget them within five minutes.  We explain to each one of them on a daily basis that it is important to be courteous and mindful of you, but it is hard for them to remember such things when there are rivers of lava to be crossed, giant precipices to be leapt over, and fierce beasts to slay.  I am sorry that you have the misfortune of living downstairs.  I have been the downstairs neighbor myself many years ago and I remember the frustrations that came with it.  You have born it well for almost two years.  

I do not know how much longer either of us will live here, but I hope it's not terribly long.  I hope you will be able to find a nice place somewhere without crazy children ruining your beauty sleep and I hope I can find a home with a backyard where I can send my kids to burn off energy safely and without disturbing anyone.  Being kids in an apartment is hard, they want to run and jump and be wild.  I take them to the park, to the zoo, to the mall, on bike rides and with me shopping, but we can only be gone for so long. I try to tire them out while we're away so it will be easier for you, but these tiny humans' super human energy never seems to to diminish!  I'm at my wits' end.

I know there are many letters out there addressed to people like me, people who are viewed as public enemy number one.  People who I feel are sometimes misunderstood.  I know many people think I should be able to control my children... and all I can say to that is if you have any brilliant suggestions beyond the daily lectures and punishments we already administer, then be my guest.  Contrary to popular belief, I do not enjoy it when my kids act out or practically cave your ceiling in from their constant rough housing.  I am embarrassed.  I panic when I think that all it will take is you complaining to the manager a few times before we get a little notice suggesting it's time to move on... and at this point, that would mean being homeless, as we currently don't have the funds necessary to buy or rent another house.  

So dear neighbor, I beg of you, please continue to be patient.  Please try to see it from my side and don't think for one moment that I'm not worried about you every single day.  I promise you that I am doing my best. 

Sincerely, 

Rachelle