Dear Upstairs Neighbors

Dear Upstairs Neighbors,

Hi! It’s your friendly downstairs new mommy. We haven’t formally met, but my name is Natalie. I don’t care what your name is. I’m talking and you’re listening.

I know for the past, oh, 3 months there has been a screaming, crying, howling infant in my apartment. Trust me. I KNOW. We’re the ones who, in the beginning, got woken up at 10, 12, 2, 4, 6, and 8 by her. So trust me. I’M AWARE THAT MY BABY CRIES. She can’t help but cry. She’s a baby. I can’t stop her from crying. SHE’S A BABY.

That being said, the next time you feel compelled to stomp through your apartment as if you are practicing for some kind of Mr. Heavyfoot Convention and wake up my baby from a nap, I will let YOU deal with the snarling, shrieking, thrashing Crank Monster that she becomes. I will let YOU rock her back to sleep as she bucks and twists and SCREAMS every time her little eyes start to flutter closed because she is overtired FROM BEING WOKEN UP FROM A 30 MINUTE NAP.

The next time your kid decides to run and yell RIGHTOUTSIDEHERWINDOW, YOU will be the one who deals with her as she squirms and fights off sleep like some sort of crazed badger swaddled in pink.

You’re already famous on my blog from a previous post. Don’t make me sic my readers on you. THEY WILL END YOU.

No. Effing. Love,
Angry Mama Natalie

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