Like a Good Neighbor ...

We have been very fortunate in all our moves to end up with good neighbors. Our neighbors now are no exception.

It was one of my neighbors whom I ran to for help and who got me to an ER when I put my hand through a paper shredder one afternoon; the same neighbor trucks my oldest kid to and from school on those days not nice enough for him to walk or to ride his bike.

Another neighbor regularly invites my middle guy to walk her giant of a dog with her, knowing that those 30 minutes that I have one fewer boy on my hands might make the difference between my making it to 8 p.m. without a major breakdown or not making it.

The guys with the snowblowers start clearing the walks those mornings those of us without snowblowers don't get outside first.

Everyone closes garage doors when it seems one has remained accidentally open; everyone brings in the neglected newspapers when left out on the sidewalk, before it can signal the random opportunistic thief that no one is home.

I mean, we're all quite neighborly.

But I became very self-conscious after receiving two notices in the past week. The first notice came from someone who just bought a house two doors from us. Before moving in, they were going to be doing some flooring work and general decorating. They just wanted to let us know and apologize in advance for any noise or inconvenience this might cause us. Very neighborly; can't wait to meet them and their young girls (I'd been hoping for boy playmates for my guys, but I'm happy knowing more small children are moving to the block.)

The second came from our across-the-street neighbors who were hosting a high school graduation party for their daughter. They warned there 'might be extra cars parked on the street' and that it would likely 'be noisy later than usual.'

Again, very neighborly. I mean, it's a quiet street. The noisiest things get -- outside of jumbo jets using the newest O'Hare runway -- is the occasional summer backyard party.

But after the second notice I wondered if we shouldn't send out notices to everyone in a three-block radius, apologizing for the noise that begins in our backyard at about 7 a.m., and, when the windows are open, the ruckus going on indoors all day long. Try as I might, I have not figured out a way to bridle my three boys, to keep them quiet at least until 9 a.m. And it's not just them. My voice tends to rise in order to get the boys' attention or when I join in the games.

So, neighbors, if you're reading, my apologies. There's always, and will always be for the foreseeable future, a cacophony of giggles, cries, yells, screams, growls and other unsettling sounds coming from our home and yard.

Why not come over and join in the fun?