In my first apartment in Boston post-college, we had a family with kids above us. They had one kid who was the loudest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. It sounded like a fucking deer was running loose in the apartment, knocking over furniture. Gadunk gadunk gadunk WHAM gadunk gadunk gadunk WHAM - ALL day long. Finally after a month or so I went up to address it and knocked on the door. A very small, presumably Indian, woman opened the door and she just looked completely exhausted, and behind her was the fattest, sweatiest, most rambunctious toddler I have ever seen to this day. He looked like a bowling ball covered in vaseline just looking for shit to smash. The woman looked at me almost like "you are no doubt here to complain about the noise made by my son, who may as well a pet bear," and I just told her I had the wrong apartment and apologized for intruding.
No point, just I'm glad your kids have fun and tell your neighbor to eat a fucking dick, or buy a top floor condo.