Prince Harry and Meghan Markle didn’t move to the US alone; they brought their son, Prince Archie, with them when they first flew to Canada. In 2021, they moved into their multimillion-dollar mansion in Montecito, California, and welcomed their daughter, Princess Lilibet.
Even though Archie and Lilibet are still very young, they are often talked about in the news. Lilibet recently turned three, but no members of the Royal Family attended her birthday party. People are wondering what kind of relationship Archie and Lilibet will have with their UK-based cousins – Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and Prince Louis. There’s a rumor that King Charles wants to be more involved in the lives of Harry and Meghan’s children.
This fall, Archie is starting kindergarten, and Lilibet is getting ready for preschool. Harry and Meghan have been looking at schools for them, but one US journalist called them “frauds” because of this.
Prince Harry and Meghan Markle moved to the US to have a more private life, away from the paparazzi and the pressures of being part of the royal family. It’s said they knew just days after their wedding that they didn’t want to stay in the royal family for long.
When Archie was born in 2019, they had already started trying to become more private. They didn’t want to be used as “puppets” by the royal family for fans and the media around the world.
Harry & Meghan ‘tricked” reports when Archie was born
In her book The New Royals: Queen Elizabeth’s Legacy and the Future of the Crown, royal expert Katie Nicholl said that Harry was “almost morbidly obsessed” with keeping Archie’s birth a secret, which is very different from the usual way royal babies are born.
Despite many fans and the public wanting to know about the baby, Harry and Meghan’s wish for privacy was ignored and seen as part of the “unwritten contract between the royals and the public.”
Rebecca English, the royal editor of the Daily Mail, mentioned that things were so tense behind the scenes that some officials were reduced to tears out of frustration and despair.
Usually, when a royal baby is born, the parents pose for photos on the hospital steps and answer a few questions before going back to their private life. But according to Katie Nicholl, Harry and Meghan wanted to handle Archie’s birth differently. Instead of openly facing the media, they tricked reporters and photographers.
Prince William, Prince Harry, and William’s children—Prince George, Princess Charlotte, and Prince Louis—were all born at St Mary’s Hospital, where their first baby photos were taken. However, Meghan’s doctor worked at Portland Hospital, so it made sense for her to have Archie there instead.
Prince Archie & Princess Lilibet
An added bonus for Harry and Meghan was that the entrance at Portland Hospital made taking photos impossible due to safety concerns.
“Harry had always enjoyed outsmarting the media,” wrote Katie Nicholl in The New Royals: Queen Elizabeth’s Legacy and the Future of the Crown. She added that Harry and Meghan were thrilled to have their son at Portland Hospital in London before the palace press office even confirmed Meghan was in labor.
Lilibet’s birth was different. She was born in June 2021 in California, where no paparazzi got close. However, it wasn’t long before Harry and Meghan brought their kids back into the public eye.
Two years after Lilibet’s birth, Harry and Meghan announced that they had given their children the titles of prince and princess. While they claim these titles are their children’s birthright, not everyone agreed it was a good idea. Royal expert Angela Levin believes it could have a negative impact on Archie and Lilibet’s futures.
In an article for Sky, Angela Levin said that Lilibet now has a heavy burden because of her parents’ decision.
“It will take a long time for little Lilibet to understand the burden her parents have put on her,” Levin said.
She added that by giving their daughter an official royal title, Harry and Meghan have now “attached her to the British Royal Family,” which they have criticized for many years.
“Why would you want your daughter to go through such trouble?” Levin asked, saying that Lilibet’s daily life will be more difficult because she has the title of princess.
King Charles ‘desperate’ to meet Archie & Lilibet
“Little girls love pretending to be princesses at parties, but if Lilibet is the only real princess in her class, it could cause jealousy that could be avoided,” the royal expert said.
Archie and Lilibet are growing up quickly. Archie turned 5 in May, and Lilibet turned 3 a little over a week ago. On June 5, Lilibet had a birthday party, but no members of her royal family attended. Princess Eugenie is the only royal who has visited Harry, Meghan, and their children in California.
Although King Charles’s relationship with Harry and Meghan is strained, he is reportedly “heartbroken” about not having a relationship with Archie and Lilibet. The King has only met Archie five times and Lilibet once.
Speaking with the Mirror, royal expert Ingrid Seward said Charles’s cancer diagnosis has made his relationship with Archie and Lilibet even more poignant, as he realizes he “won’t be around forever.”
“Family has always been important to the King. He remembers his own fragmented childhood because his parents were always busy with their duties. It is a great sadness to him that he doesn’t see more of Archie and Lilibet,” Seward explained.
“That’s why he will never cut ties with Harry. He doesn’t want to only see his son’s children on FaceTime. He wants to know them and be part of their lives while they are still young enough to learn from him. His cancer diagnosis has made this even more important to him because he knows he won’t be around forever.”
Meghan revealed real reason why Archie will never attend a UK school
Only time will tell what Harry and Meghan’s children will do when they grow up. They can choose any path they want, including working as royals. However, their parents likely plan for them to attend some of the best and most expensive schools in the world.
Their UK relatives have gone to famous schools like Gordonstoun in Scotland and Eton in England. But it’s said that Harry and Meghan wouldn’t let their son go to school in the UK.
In a 2022 article for The Cut, journalist Allison Davis shared a conversation she had with Meghan Markle. Meghan said she didn’t want her son Archie to attend school in the UK because of safety concerns.
Meghan explained that if Archie went to school in the UK, she would never be able to pick him up or drop him off without a crowd of photographers taking pictures. She told Allison, “Sorry, I have a problem with that. It doesn’t mean I’m obsessed with privacy. It means I’m a strong and good parent protecting my child.”
Archie and Lilibet have a lot of time before they start high school or college. For now, they will probably go to a school near their home in Montecito, California, where they live.
Harry and Meghan “inspecting” expensive private school for Archie & Lilibet
One journalist says that Harry and Meghan have started looking at schools in their area, but they’re getting a lot of criticism for their choices.
Richard Mineards from the Montecito Journal told the Mirror that Harry and Meghan checked out a local private school, which is very expensive.
“The couple was seen visiting the school campus last week, getting closer to making a decision,” Mineards said.
He added, “In our area, school fees range from $50,000 to $60,000 or more for older grades, and most students go on to four-year colleges.”
It’s assumed that Harry and Meghan can afford to send their children to private schools. However, not everyone is happy about Harry looking at such an expensive school.
US journalist Lee Cohen has criticized the royal couple, calling them “frauds.” In an interview with GB News, he said it’s “infuriating” that the Sussexes are planning to enroll their kids in an “outrageously expensive” school, especially since they often talk about equality.
Lee Cohen said, “It’s extremely frustrating to hear that Harry and Meghan, who claim to be champions of equality and social justice, are thinking about sending their children to an exclusive, very expensive school.”
Harry & Meghan branded “frauds”
Lee Cohen continued, “Their supposed commitment to equality and social justice is just a show. If they’re willing to send their kids to such an elite, extremely expensive school, they’re not really supporting equality. They’re paying tens of thousands of dollars a year for their children’s education, while many families can’t even afford basic needs.”
Cohen wrapped up by accusing Harry and Meghan of maintaining the “systems of privilege” they claim to fight against.
“Sending their kids to such a prestigious school just shows how fake their claims are. They’re upholding the very privilege they say they’re trying to challenge,” Cohen told GB News.
My Neighbor Drove over My Lawn Every Day as a Shortcut to Her Yard
After her divorce, Hayley pours her heart into the perfect lawn, until her entitled neighbor starts driving over it like it’s a shortcut to nowhere. What begins as a petty turf war turns into something deeper: a fierce, funny, and satisfying reclamation of boundaries, dignity, and self-worth.
After my divorce, I didn’t just want a fresh start. I needed it.
That’s how I ended up in a quiet cul-de-sac in a different state, in a house with a white porch swing and a lawn I could call my own.
A house with a white porch swing | Source: Midjourney
I poured my heartbreak into that yard. I planted roses from my late grandma’s clippings. I lined the walkways with solar lights that flickered to life like fireflies. I mowed every Saturday, named my mower “Benny,” and drank sweet tea on the steps like I’d been doing it my whole life.
I was 30, newly single, and desperate for peace.
A smiling woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Then came Sabrina.
You’d hear her before you saw her. Her heels clicking like gunshots against concrete, voice louder than her Lexus engine. She was in her late 40s, always in something tight and glossy, and never without a phone pressed to her ear.
She lived in the corner house across the loop. Her husband, Seth, though I wouldn’t learn his name until much later, was the quiet type.
I never saw him drive. Just her. Always her.
A woman standing next to her car | Source: Midjourney
The first time I saw tire tracks through my lawn, I thought it was a fluke. Maybe a delivery guy cutting a corner during his route. But then it happened again. And again.
I got up early one morning and caught her in the act, her SUV swinging wide and slicing clean through my flowerbed like it was a damn racetrack. I flagged her down, waving like a madwoman in pajama pants.
“Hey! Could you not cut across the lawn like that? I just planted lilies there! Come on!”
A flowerbed of beautiful lilies | Source: Midjourney
She leaned out the window, sunglasses perched high, lips curled in a smile so tight it could cut glass.
“Oh honey, your flowers will grow back! I’m just in a rush sometimes.”
Then, just like that, she was gone.
Her SUV disappeared around the corner, tires leaving fresh scars across the soil I’d spent hours softening, planting, grooming. The scent of crushed roses lingered in the air, floral and faintly bitter, like perfume sprayed on a goodbye letter.
A car on the road | Source: Midjourney
I stood frozen on the porch, heart pounding in that familiar, helpless rhythm. I wasn’t just angry, I was dismantled.
Not again.
I’d already lost so much. The marriage. The future I’d clung to like a blueprint. And just when I’d started to rebuild something beautiful, something mine, someone decided it was convenient to tear it up with their Michelin tires and manicured entitlement.
An upset woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney
This yard was my sanctuary. My therapy. My way of proving to myself that I could nurture something, even if I hadn’t been enough for someone else to stay.
And she drove over it like it was a patch of weeds.
I tried to be civil. I did what any good neighbor would. I bought big, beautiful decorative rocks. The type that was polished, heavy, and meant to say please respect this space. I placed them carefully, like guards at the edge of a kingdom I was learning to protect.
A pile of rocks on a lawn | Source: Midjourney
The next morning? Two were shoved aside like toys and a rose stem split down the middle.
That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t about flowers. This was about me.
And I’d been invisible long enough. So, I stopped being nice.
A damaged rose bush | Source: Midjourney
Phase One: Operation Spike Strip (But Made Legal)
I gave her chances. I gave her grace. I gave her decorative rocks. But the message wasn’t sinking in.
So I got creative.
I drove out to a local feed store, the kind that smells like hay and old wood, and picked up three rolls of chicken wire mesh. Eco-friendly. Subtle. But when laid just beneath the surface of a soft lawn?
A close up of chicken wire mesh | Source: Midjourney
It bites.
I came home and worked in the early evening light, the same time she usually thundered in like a one-woman parade. I wore gloves. I dug carefully. I laid that wire with the precision of a woman who’s been underestimated one too many times.
I smoothed the soil back over like nothing ever happened. To the average eye? It was just a freshly groomed yard.
A woman working in her garden | Source: Midjourney
To a woman who doesn’t respect boundaries? It was a trap waiting to be triggered.
Two days later, I was on the porch with my tea when I heard it.
A loud crunch.
The kind of sound that makes your shoulders tense and your heart quietly hum with justice. Sabrina’s SUV jerked to a stop mid-lawn, one tire hissing its surrender.
A cup of tea on a porch | Source: Midjourney
Sabrina flung the door open like the drama queen she was, stilettos stabbing into my flowerbed as she examined the deflation.
“What did you do to my car?!” she screamed, her eyes wild.
I took a slow, syrupy sip from my mug.
A close up of an annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
“Oh no… was that the lawn again? Thought your tires were tougher than my roses.”
She stood there, seething. And all I could think was: Good.
She stormed off in a flurry of clicks and curses. But I wasn’t done. Not even close. There was so much more to come.
A woman leaning against her door and smiling | Source: Midjourney
Phase Two: The Petty Paper Trail
The next morning, I found a letter taped to my front door, flapping in the breeze like a threat dressed in Times New Roman.
It was from Sabrina’s lawyer.
Apparently, I’d “intentionally sabotaged shared property” and “posed a safety hazard.”
Shared property? My yard?
A letter taped to a front door | Source: Midjourney
I stood there barefoot on the porch, still in my sleep shirt and leggings. I reread the letter three times just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. It was laughable. But laughter wasn’t what came first, it was rage.
Slow, steady, delicious rage.
You want to play legal games, Sabrina? Fine by me.
I called the county before my coffee even got cold. I booked a land survey that same afternoon. Two days later, there were stakes and bright-orange flags marking every inch of my property like a war zone.
A woman sitting at her kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
Turns out, her property line didn’t even brush mine. She’d been trespassing for weeks.
So, I started gathering receipts. I went full-librarian-on-a-mission mode.
I pulled every photo I’d taken. Snapshots of roses in bloom, then snapped in half. Sabrina’s SUV parked mid-lawn. Her stilettos crossing my mulch like it was a runway. One image had her mid-stride, phone to ear, not a care in the world.
An older woman talking on a phone | Source: Midjourney
I printed them all and put them into a folder. I slid in a copy of the survey, the report I filed, not to press charges, just to get it on record. The paper trail was clean, legal, and satisfyingly thick.
I mailed it to her lawyer. Certified. Tracked. With a little note inside:
“Respect goes both ways.”
Three days later, the claim was dropped. Just like that. No apology. No confrontation. But still, Sabrina didn’t stop.
And that?
That was her final mistake.
An envelope on a table | Source: Midjourney
Phase Three: The “Welcome Mat” Finale
If chicken wire couldn’t stop her and legal letters didn’t humble my annoying neighbor, then it was time for something with a little more… flair.
I scoured the internet until I found it. A motion-activated sprinkler system designed to ward off deer and raccoons but with the power of a small fire hydrant.
It didn’t mist. It attacked.
An open laptop on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
I buried it low in the spot she always cut across, hidden beneath a fresh layer of mulch and daisies. Wired it up. I did a test run and got blasted so hard I lost a flip-flop. It was perfect.
The next morning, I sat behind my lace curtains with a mug of coffee and fresh buttery croissants. I had the patience of a woman who’d been underestimated for far too long.
Right on schedule, her white Lexus turned into the cul-de-sac and swerved over my lawn like it always had, confident, careless, and completely unprepared.
Fresh croissants on a plate | Source: Midjourney
And then… fwoosh!
The sprinkler exploded to life with the fury of a thousand garden hoses. First her front wheel. Then the open passenger window. Then a glorious 360 spin that drenched the entire side of her SUV.
Sabrina screamed. The car screeched to a stop. She threw her door open and jumped out, soaked, makeup running like melting wax.
I didn’t laugh. I howled. Nearly spilled my coffee down my shirt.
A sprinkler system on a lawn | Source: Midjourney
She stood in my flowerbed, dripping, sputtering, mascara streaking down her cheeks like black tears of entitlement. For the first time since this all started, she looked small.
She never crossed the lawn again.
A week later, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find a man, mid-50s, rumpled button-down, holding a potted lavender plant like it was a peace offering.
A man holding a potted plant | Source: Midjourney
“I’m Seth,” he said quietly. “Sabrina’s husband.”
The poor man looked like a man worn down by years of apologizing for someone else.
“She’s… spirited,” he said, offering the plant. “But you taught her a lesson I couldn’t.”
I took the plant gently.
A smiling woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney
“The sidewalk’s always available, Seth,” I smiled.
He smiled back. The kind that carried more relief than joy. Then he turned and walked away, on the pavement.
Right where he belonged.
A man walking down a side walk | Source: Midjourney
Weeks later, my lawn was blooming again.
The roses were taller than before. The daffodils had returned, delicate but defiant. The rocks still stood guard, though they didn’t need to anymore.
The chicken wire was gone. The sprinkler? Still there. Not out of spite but memory. It was a line drawn in the soil, just in case the world forgot where it ended.
A beautiful garden | Source: Midjourney
But the war was over.
I stirred a pot of marinara in my kitchen, the window cracked just enough to let in the sound of birds and distant lawnmowers. My hands moved on autopilot—garlic, basil, and a pinch of salt.
I had made this recipe a hundred times, but that night it felt different. Like muscle memory soothing something deeper.
A pot of marinara sauce on a stove | Source: Midjourney
The steam fogged the window just enough that I couldn’t quite see the tire marks that once haunted the grass. And I thought… maybe that was fitting.
Because it wasn’t really about grass.
It was about being erased. Again.
When my marriage ended, it hadn’t been with a dramatic fight or infidelity. It had been quieter. Colder. Like watching someone pack up their love in small boxes and slip out the door while I was still convincing myself things could be fixed.
A pensive woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I had spent three years asking to be seen. To matter. To be considered.
And then I came here. To this house. To this porch. And I finally started building something just for me. Something alive. Beautiful. Soft in all the places I had gone hard to survive.
And then Sabrina… Tire tracks across my peace. High heels stomping on my healing.
A laughing older woman | Source: Midjourney
She hadn’t known that every daffodil she crushed, I had planted with hands that still shook from signing divorce papers.
That every solar light she bumped had been placed with quiet hope I’d someday fall in love with evenings again.
So maybe it looked petty. Maybe a sprinkler seemed like overkill. But it hadn’t just been about defending grass.
A close up of daffodils | Source: Midjourney
It had been about drawing a line where I hadn’t before. About learning that sometimes, being kind means being fierce. And that setting boundaries doesn’t make me crazy.
It gives me freedom.
I ladled sauce over pasta and smiled as the scent filled the kitchen.
Some things broke me. And some things, like a perfect flowerbed, or a well-aimed jet of water, brought me back.
A bowl of pasta on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Martha returns from a weekend away, she’s horrified to find her MIL, Gloria, has destroyed her daughter’s cherished flowerbed, replacing it with tacky garden gnomes. Furious but composed, Martha hatches a clever plan to teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.
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