How My Husband Secretly Supported His Mother While I Couldn’t Afford to Dress Our Child

Author Emily TaylorReading 3 minViews 5

So, listen to thisme and my husband definitely dont live in luxury; we just try to get by, honestly. We both have jobs, but our salaries are, well, more on the modest side. You know how it is these daysjust surviving, especially with a four-year-old daughter, is mega expensive. Every penny counts, and still, sometimes it feels like theres never enough.

The thing is, my husband decided hed pay his mums rent on top of everything else. Were barely keeping our own heads above water, and hes sending money off to his mum. Now, shes perfectly alright, you knownot some fragile thing. She could easily get a part-time job. If I could, I would myself, but after work Ive got to pick up our daughter from nursery and look after her. You’d think my mother-in-law could help out with babysitting, right? Ive asked her plenty of times, but she always refuses, claiming she hasnt got the energy or shes not feeling well.

Next, I find out his mums jetted off on holidaysomewhere posh, mind you, not some cheap getaway. My husband suddenly announces he needs me to trek all the way across London to take care of her plants while shes off sunning herself. Can you believe it? I was gobsmacked. Instead of going out to earn a bit extra or at least spending time with my own family, Im supposed to babysit her begonias?

Anyway, the biggest shock was something else entirely. Recently, my mother-in-law has started living the high lifefancy new handbags, pricey dresses from boutiques, designer sunglasses, you name it. And all this time, my husbands been moaning that his poor mums struggling to keep up with rent, when clearly, shes not short of money. At this rate, I was starting to wonder if shed bagged herself a loaded boyfriend or something.

Then, not long after, I noticed my husband carrying the same battered old satchel every single daylooked heavy too. When he hopped in the shower one night, curiosity got the better of me and I had a peek inside. There was all sorts of tech gearlaptops and whatnot. One of them I recognised immediately as belonging to my friend from work. The next day at the office, I mentioned it and she told me, Oh! Your husband fixes gadgets on the side. I asked him to sort out my laptophes good at it!

So that explains the extra money suddenly floating about! But when I asked him straight out if he was giving every last penny to his mum, he just nodded and said yes.
So you mean to say that our daughters been wearing outgrown jumpers, and Ive practically got holes in my shoes, while youre sending your mum on spa weekends and kitting her out in designer clothes? I asked.

All the money I earn on the side is mine, he said. I can spend it however I like.

Well, Im telling you now, I packed his bags and sent him right off to live with her since he cares so much. If his mum matters more than his own wife and daughter, maybe hell be happier there. Honestly, I cant say it isnt what he deserves.

Why Should It Matter Who Looked After Grandma? By Law, That Flat Should Be Mine! – My Mother Argues Bitterly With Me My Own Mother Is Threatening to Take Me to Court. Why? Because the Flat My Grandmother Left Didn’t Go To Her, Or Even to Me, But to My Daughter. My Mum Insists It’s Unfair—She Says Grandma’s Flat Should Have Been Hers. But Gran Made a Different Choice. Why? Probably Because My Husband and I Lived With Her and Cared for Her for the Last Five Years. You Could Easily Call My Mother Selfish. Her Own Desires Were Always More Important Than Anyone Else’s. She’s Been Married Three Times, but Only Had Two Children: Me and My Little Sister. My Sister and I Get On Brilliantly, but It’s Been Strained With Mum. I Don’t Even Remember My Dad. He Split Up With Mum When I Was Just Two. Until I Was Six, We Lived With Grandma. For Some Reason, I Thought Grandma Was Rather Unkind, Maybe Because Mum Was Always Crying. It Wasn’t Until I Grew Up That I Realised Grandma Was a Lovely Woman—She Just Wanted to Get Mum’s Life on Track. Later, Mum Remarried. I Ended Up Living With Her and My Stepfather. That’s When My Sister Was Born. Mum Stayed With Him for Seven Years, Then Divorced Again. This Time, No Return to Grandma’s. My Stepdad Moved Away for Work, But Let Us Stay in His Place. Three Years Later, Mum Married Again and We Moved in With Her New Husband. He Clearly Wasn’t Happy Mum Came With Children, But He Never Harmed Us—He Just Ignored Us. Mum Was Too Absorbed in Her Marriage to Notice Us. She Was Jealous, Always Making a Scene and Smashing Crockery. Once a Month, Mum Would Threaten to Leave, But Stepfather Always Stopped Her. My Sister and I Got Used to It. I Took On Looking After My Sister—Mum Didn’t Have Time. Thank Goodness for Both Our Grandmothers—they Helped an Enormous Amount. Later, I Went To University Accommodation, and My Sister Lived With Grandma. Dad Always Supported Her, While Mum Only Rang Us at Christmas and Easter. I Accepted Mum for Who She Was—Used to Her Not Caring, Not Worrying. But My Sister Never Did, Especially After Mum Didn’t Even Come to Her Graduation Party. We Grew Up. My Sister Married and Moved to Another City. Although My Boyfriend and I Had Been Together for Ages, We Didn’t Rush into Marriage. We Lived Together in a Rented Flat and I Often Visited Grandma. We Became Very Close—I Tried Not to Be a Burden. Then Grandma Fell Ill and Was Hospitalised. She Needed Good Care, So I Started Visiting Daily—Bringing Groceries, Cooking, Helping Round the House, and Making Sure She Took Her Medicines. I Did This For Six Months. Sometimes My Boyfriend Came Too, Fixing Things or Helping Out. After A While, Grandma Suggested We Move in With Her to Save Up For Our Own Place Instead of Wasting Money on Rent. Of Course, We Agreed—Grandma and I Got On So Well, and She Liked My Boyfriend. We Moved In. Six Months Later, I Fell Pregnant. Of Course, We Decided to Have the Baby. Grandma Was Over the Moon at the Prospect of a Great-Grandchild. We Had a Simple Wedding and Afterwards Took the Family to a Coffee Shop. Mum Didn’t Even Come. She Didn’t Even Send a Text. When My Daughter Was Only Two Months Old, Grandma Fell and Broke Her Leg. I Was Struggling, Looking After Both Grandma and a Baby. I Needed Mum’s Help Desperately, So I Rang and Asked. She Refused—Said She Wasn’t Well and Would Come Later, but She Never Did. Six Months On, Grandma Had a Stroke and Became Bedridden. The Care Was Overwhelming, and If Not For My Husband I Don’t Know What I’d Have Done. Then Grandma Improved—She Began to Speak, Walk, and Eat Slowly. She Lived for Another Two and a Half Years After the Stroke, Long Enough to Watch Her Great-Granddaughter Start Running Round. Grandma Died Peacefully in Her Sleep. My Husband and I Took It Very Hard. We Loved Her Dearly and Miss Her Every Day. Mum Only Showed Up for the Funeral. A Month Later, She Arrived, Insisting I Move Out and Hand Over the Flat. She Was Certain It Would All Be Hers. She Didn’t Know Grandma Had Rewritten Her Will Just After My Daughter Was Born, Leaving the Flat to Her Great-Grandchild—So Mum Got Nothing. Naturally, Mum Was Furious—Demanding I Give Her the Flat, Or She’d Take Me to Court. “Look How Sneaky You Are! You Tricked That Poor Old Woman, Took Her Flat, and Now You’re Living There Yourself! You Won’t Get Away With This! It Doesn’t Matter Who Looked After Grandma—That Flat Should Be Mine!” Mum Won’t Get That Flat—That Much I Know. I’ve Spoken to a Solicitor and a Legal Expert. So We’re Staying Put in the Flat Grandma Gave Us. And If Our Next Baby Is a Girl, She’ll Be Named After the Grandmother Who Meant So Much.

Why Should It Matter Who Cared for Grandma? By Law, That Flat Should Be Mine! – My Mum Argues with Me Over Grandma’s Flat My own mother is threatening to sue me. Why? Because my grandma’s flat didn’t go to her—or even to me—but instead was left to my daughter. Mum thinks that’s unbelievably unfair. She believes Grandma’s flat should have been hers, but Grandma chose otherwise. Why? Probably because my husband and I lived with Grandma and cared for her for the last five years. You could easily call my mum completely self-absorbed. Her wishes and desires always seemed to come before anyone else’s. She was married three times but only ever had two children: me and my younger sister. My sister and I are very close, but our relationship with Mum has always been… strained. I barely even remember my dad. He and Mum divorced when I was just two. Until I was six, I lived with Mum at Grandma’s. For some reason, I thought Grandma was very harsh—maybe because Mum was always crying. It wasn’t until I was older that I realised Grandma was a good person, just trying her best to help her daughter stand on her own two feet. Mum later remarried, and I moved in with her and my stepdad. That marriage gave me my sister, and lasted seven years before ending in divorce too. This time, instead of moving back in with Grandma, we stayed in my stepdad’s flat while he worked away. Three years on, Mum married again and we moved in with her new husband. He clearly didn’t love the idea of instant stepkids, but he never hurt us—he just ignored us. Mum ignored us too, completely focused on her new man, always suspicious, always causing drama. Once a month, Mum would pack her things and threaten to leave, but her husband always talked her down. My sister and I just got used to it. I ended up raising my sister because Mum couldn’t be bothered. Lucky for us, our grandmothers helped. Later, I moved to university accommodation, and my sister moved in with Grandma. Our dad helped as much as he could. Mum only rang on holidays. I got used to Mum being absent and unconcerned about us. My sister, though, never forgave her—especially not when Mum skipped her school-leaving celebration. As adults, my sister married and moved to another city. My boyfriend and I, meanwhile, lived together for years before considering marriage, renting a flat together. I visited Grandma often—we were very close, though I always tried not to overstep. Then Grandma fell ill and was hospitalised. I started visiting daily: bringing groceries, cooking, cleaning, and above all, making sure she took her medication. Sometimes my boyfriend came to help—he’d fix things around the house, tidy up. That’s when Grandma suggested we move in to save for our own place, instead of wasting money on rent. Of course, we said yes. Grandma liked my boyfriend a lot. Six months later, I got pregnant. We decided to keep the baby, got married, and had a small celebration with family in a café. Mum didn’t show up—didn’t even call to congratulate us. When my daughter was two months old, Grandma fell and broke her leg. It was agonising juggling a baby and an invalid. Desperate, I called my mum for help. She refused, saying she didn’t feel well, promising to visit soon. She never did. Six months after that, Grandma suffered a stroke. She was bedridden for ages. Caring for her nearly broke me—thank goodness for my husband. Eventually, she improved: she could talk, eat, and even walk a bit. Grandma got a few more years to enjoy her great-granddaughter’s first steps, before passing away peacefully in her sleep. Losing her was devastating for me and my husband—we loved her deeply and still miss her every day. Mum only came to the funeral. A month later, she turned up to kick me out, certain that the flat belonged to her. But she didn’t know Grandma had signed it over just after my daughter was born. So Mum got nothing. Of course, she wasn’t happy. She demanded I hand over the flat—or she’d sue. “See how sneaky you are!” she yelled. “You cheated that old woman out of her home just so you could move in! You won’t get away with this! It doesn’t matter who cared for Grandma—that flat is rightfully mine!” But she’s not getting the flat, and I know that for sure: I’ve spoken to a solicitor and a notary. We’ll stay in the home Grandma gave us. And if we have another daughter, we’ll definitely name her after Grandma.