“Those who get angry when you set a boundary are the ones you need to set boundaries for.”

We’ll make this short and maybe not so sweet.

The exterminator came by, and it was our usual technician.
I like this technician because he’s older and doesn’t use spray.
He uses glue traps.
It’s just preventative since we don’t have bugs. 
 He arrived later than expected, so the morning was mostly waiting around. 
We cleared the counters like we always do. 
I still don’t know why, but that’s the rule. 
Cowboy heated a can of soup for dinner in the microwave because everything from the counters was piled on the stove. 
It all stays there until the technician leaves.

I won’t go into a lot of details, but I finally snapped.
I finally channeled my red‑headed cousin’s Amazon vibes, and I put some firm boundaries in place tonight. 
We’ve endured nearly three years of almost constant chaos when Raven brings his kids down on the weekend. 
He tries to excuse their behavior as being part of being neurodiverse. 
Some of it is, but the larger part is that the kids have no firm rules, no firm consequences, and they’re allowed to be as wild as they want to be.

I sent a message to the group chat so everyone in the family could see that I wasn’t screaming or cussing, that I was being calm. 
I simply told Raven that he needed to get control of his kids. 
It’s unfair to the rest of us living here to have to constantly deal with the chaos.

His kids aren’t the only ones with neurodiversity. 
Badger is also neurodiverse, and having to cope with the chaos every weekend isn’t good for her. 
I have anxiety. 
It’s not good for me either.

It’s also for Raven’s own good.
The kids are so loud you can hear them from one end of our street to the other.
 We no longer have the neighbors my kids grew up with who minded their own business. 
These new neighbors will call the police one day. 
We’ve been holding our breaths for almost three years hoping they don’t.

Pretty much, I know it may not change anything, but at least everyone knows how I feel.