Park Slope Moms

I'm about to move to >cringe< Park Slope. It's a neighborhood known for its precious moms -- women who used fertility treatments to home birth the twins, Ava and Dash, who are treated like royalty. The joke (or not) is that these babies are spoonfed organic smashed potatoes with rosemary and pomegranate, unless they're not in the mood, and then they watch Baby Einstein videos while being massaged with lavendar oil.

I used to think that was a terribly unfair, terribly misogynistic take on Brookln motherhood. After all, I'm moving in. And I have my own princess I want to take to the park. But it's all fun and games until you're neighbors.

We're doing renovations in our apartment, and our co-op neighbor has a young child. Apparently, he's quite sickly: any sound wakes him up, any dust gives him nosebleeds. As you can imagine, it's difficult to renovate an apartment without making sound or dust. We're doing our best, but it's not good enough -- to satisfy her, we've had to hire a lead expert and a dust and air expert, and respond to numerous passive-aggressive emails about his "naptime".

So when do we call it? When do gear up for a fight? We want to have a good experience in our new apartment, but right now we're terrified of making a peep, and we haven't even moved in yet. Ah, moving in. Sounds like heaven. (Gulp.)