Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Sharing

I feel as if I'm living in some alternate reality. Think "Pleasantville" or 1950's a throwback to a time when people knew their neighbors. And I don't mean know their name or what kind of car they drive but details like what they did on their last vacation, what they are watching on tv tonight, whether or not their toddler is embracing potty training or where their child got their latest bruise or whether or not I'm pregnant; you know details we introverts like to keep to ourselves.

We like our home, we like the location in town and the giant backyard that we don't have to maintain. We like that it is one of the few spots in town to have sidewalks. But what I'm finding hard to live with is that we also share our leisure space with all the other folks on our street; our neighbors.

I recently read a book "Assimilate or Go Home", the author and her husband purposefully move into apartment housing to live in closer community to others. They have a fierce desire to know their neighbors, to love them and serve them. It sounds so good, reading it on the page that is, living it out is proving to be harder than I like. It's not that I don't want to know the people living down the street but usually my first inclination is to get the mail and hide out in my backyard or inside my house, meanwhile my extroverted husband and daughter are itching for a walk, socialization i.e. neighbor time.

And so we've settled into a routine; checking mail and taking a walk after dinner. Part of me hopes there won't be anyone out, that they'll be too busy to talk and we can quickly circle back home. I do enjoy talking with them and being blessed by the parenting comradery and gifts of toys they seem to think my daughter needs but man does it stretch me.

Toys that often come with parenting instruction that our sweet neighbors think Isabel "needs"

It's uncomfortable to share, to make conversation. It feels unnatural and often times I dread it but I'm pretty sure it's good for me and I definitely don't want my daughter to be holed up inside all because mom couldn't manage a 15 minute convo with the neighbor, revealing intimate details like what house number is ours (please don't come knocking) and what our families future plans are (read a hint, just a hint of sarcasm in this last sentence, there is also a lot of truth)

So to my husband who hopes we always live in townhouses with shared leisure space I can't say I'll always be on board with that plan thanks for dragging this introvert along,  this time anyway.

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