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I Advised You to Stop After Your Third Child – I Even Bought You Special Pills Hoping You’d Rethink Your Choices, but Apparently My Efforts Were Wasted: How Do You Handle a Mother-in-Law Who Sarcastically Questions Your Family Plans and Tries to Interfere in Her Son and Daughter-in-Law’s Lives?

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You know, I advised you to stop after your third child. I even got you those special pills, hoping youd think twice about what youre doing. Seems like it was all for nothing.

How many more kids are you planning on having? my mother-in-law asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lets not be sarcastic, please. Are you really that upset that Peter told you about my pregnancy? Monica responded calmly.

Well of course I am! I told you to stop at three. I even bought you those pills, hoping theyd make you reconsider. Clearly, my efforts were wasted, my mother-in-law grumbled.

We respect your opinion, but were not going to try fighting against nature, Monica replied.

Is this a joke to you? Well, dont count on my help anymore! Maria snapped.

Monica was just about to say something when, out of nowhere, the phone rang.

Maria never really supported her grandkids. She didnt take them out, never spent time with them, and only brought gifts or chocolates on their birthdays. Financially, Monica and Peter were entirely self-sufficient. When Monica was pregnant with their third, Maria insisted she should get an abortion, but Monica and Peter refused. In time, Maria came to love her granddaughter. Then, surprise, Monica was pregnant again! Monica always tried to keep things civil with her mother-in-law in front of Peter and the kids, as long as peace reigned at home.

Peter has a well-paid job, and Monica works part-time from home. As her little business started taking off, she even hired an assistant to help with the children. Really, life was smooth sailingif it wasnt for Marias attitude. From the very beginning, Maria disliked her daughter-in-law, and secretly hoped her son would leave Monica. Obviously, those hopes didnt pan out. Then the children started arriving, one after another.

Monica reckons her mother-in-law is against having a fourth grandchild simply because all of Peters money is now going to support the family, rather than being available for Marias wants. She was used to living comfortablyPeter paid for her private dental appointments, sent her to luxury spas, and even renovated her house now and again. Maria felt like she was losing it allno more financial help. The thought of missing out upset her more than anything else.

Monica tried not to let Marias constant negativity get to her, but it obviously took a toll on her mood. Still, its pretty unlikely Maria could have changed her son and daughter-in-laws minds. Theyre going to have their fourth child, regardless.

Honestly, what do you do with a mum who interferes in her own childrens lives to this extent?

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Sent to the Care Home — Don’t you start with that nonsense, Alice, not a word of it! — Mrs. Gladys Thompson shoved away her bowl of porridge with surprising strength. — You want to pack me off to an institution, do you? So they can stick me with whatever they like and suffocate me with a pillow if I make a fuss? It won’t happen! Alice took a deep breath, trying not to look at her grandmother’s trembling hands. — Nan, what institution? It’s a private care home. It’s next to the woods, nurses are there round-the-clock. You’ll have company there, a huge telly to watch. Here, you’re alone all day while Dad’s at work. — That “company” rubbish, I know all about it — the old woman wheezed, settling back on her pillows. — They’ll rob me blind, take my flat, and chuck me in some ditch. Tell Paul straight: he’ll never get me out of my house alive. Let him look after me himself. He’s my son, isn’t he? Didn’t sleep a wink when he was sick with measles, now it’s his turn. — Dad’s working two jobs just to pay for your meds! He’s fifty-three, his blood pressure’s all over the place, not once been to the cinema in three years, let alone had a holiday! — He’ll manage, — Gladys clamped her lips shut. — Still young. And you watch your mouth. Children don’t tell their elders what to do. Go on, clean up that mess! Filth everywhere! Alice stepped into the hallway and exhaled noisily. How is she supposed to talk to her? Her father came home at seven. He sat down heavily on the footstool, staring at the floor. — Dad, you okay? — Alice took the heavy grocery bag from him. — Fine, love. Work’s stacked up at the warehouse, end-of-year coming. How’s Gran? — As usual. Another row about the care home, says we’re out to get rid of her. Dad, we can’t go on. After bills this month we’ve got three hundred quid for food. And I’ve got halls to pay for, plus books. — We’ll manage, — Paul heaved himself up, pulled off his shoes. — I took on another shift. Night security, every other night. — That’s mad! When will you sleep? You’ll collapse at this rate! He said nothing, just filled a saucepan and put it on the hob. — Has she eaten? — Half went on the bed. I changed the sheets. — Right. Go do your studying for exams. I’ll feed her, and sort her out. Alice watched her limping father go to her grandmother’s room. She pitied him terribly. She saw the man who once laughed and joked fade day by day. The jokes were gone; joy vanished from his eyes. *** A week later, things got worse — he came home late, clearly unsteady. — Dad? Are you ill? — I’m fine, Alice. Just dizzy on the Tube. Too stuffy. — Sit down. I’ll check your blood pressure. The monitor showed 180 over 110. Alice silently fetched the tablets. — Tomorrow you’re not going in. I’m calling the doctor. — I can’t — he winced. — Inspection tomorrow. 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They ordered strict bedrest. — Alice, how’s Mum? — he asked first thing when she visited. — She’s fine, Dad. Our neighbour’s checking in. You need to focus on yourself. At least a fortnight off. — Two weeks… I’ll get sacked… Money… — Sleep, — Alice tucked him in. — I’ll sort everything. I promise. On day four, when she got home, Gran greeted her with a barrage of nagging. — Where d’you wander to? I’m lying in filth, Paul’s lazing in hospital, and I’m left to rot! Alice balled her fists and spoke, steady and calm. — Listen, Nan. Dad’s very ill, next time could be a stroke. — Codswallop! — Gladys scoffed. — He’s tough. Takes after his dad. Come turn me, my side’s going numb. — No, — Alice sat down. — I’m not turning you. Or feeding you. Gladys stared at her in disbelief. — What’s this now? You lost your mind, girl? — No. There’s no money. None. Dad can’t work, no bonus coming. Your pension barely covers your medication. — Rubbish! Paul’s bound to have some savings. — No savings. It all went last month, on your hospital tests. So either sign to let us sell your Essex flat, or tomorrow I’ll ring Social Services — they’ll take you to a state home. Free. — You wouldn’t dare! — Gladys shouted. — I’m his mother! This is my home! — Your home? You’re destroying your son, and you don’t care if he never leaves hospital. All that matters is your comfort. I called the care home about a place. There’s one free now — money from your flat pays for it. The care there is excellent. — I’m not going, — Gladys began coughing. — Then starve. There’s no food money. I’m out working all day tomorrow. Water’s on your table. Up to you. Alice left, closing the door. She was shaking. She’d never been cruel, but knew now: unless she put a stop to this, she’d lose her dad. And Gran… would simply outlive them both if allowed to drain their lives away. The night was silent. Alice stayed out of the room, though she heard Gladys calling, sobbing, cursing. 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She passed away peacefully in her sleep, with no grudges left against her granddaughter or son.
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I Advised You to Stop After Your Third Child – I Even Bought You Special Pills Hoping You’d Rethink Your Choices, but Apparently My Efforts Were Wasted: How Do You Handle a Mother-in-Law Who Sarcastically Questions Your Family Plans and Tries to Interfere in Her Son and Daughter-in-Law’s Lives?