For years, my relationship with my mother has been fraught, but I never imagined it could devolve into something like this. I have two childrenSophie, my nine-year-old daughter, and Ben, my six-year-old son. Its just been the three of us since the separation, and although Ive always been responsible, hardworking, and devoted to my kids, Mums never missed a chance to insist that Im not fit to be a mother. Every time she visited, shed inspect everythingshed open the fridge to peer inside, run her finger along the shelves for dust, scold me if the laundry wasnt folded just so, or if the children werent absolutely silent while she was there.
Last week, she came round to help because Ben was down with a cold, saying shed stay for two days. One afternoon, while shed popped out to Sainsburys, I was rummaging through the TV unit for a receiptand thats when I found it: a thick black notebook with a red divider. At first, I thought it was one of mine, like my expense trackersbut no, the handwriting was hers. Scrawled on the first page, it said:
Registerin case legal action becomes necessary.
Curious and apprehensive, I flicked throughand found dated bullet points of what she called my irresponsible acts:
3rd September: children ate reheated rice.
18th October: Sophie went to bed at 10pmfar too late for her age.
22nd November: unfolded clothes in the lounge.
15th December: saw her looking tirednot appropriate for child-rearing.
Literally everything I did, every tiny detail about my homeshed recorded it all like it was some sort of crime. There were even things shed completely fabricated:
29th November: left child alone for 40 minutes.
That never happenednot even close.
But what chilled me most was the section entitled Backup Plan. Listed there were names of aunties who, apparently, could confirm that I was living under stressdespite the fact theyd never suggested any such thing. Shed even printed out messages where Id asked her not to drop in unannounced because I was busy, and filed them away as evidence that I reject help.
There was even a paragraph stating that if she could prove I was messy or not properly organised, she might request temporary custody of the children for their protection.
When she returned from the shop, I was shaking. I had no idea if I should confront her, stay quiet, or just grab the children and go. In the end, I put the notebook back exactly where Id found it.
That evening, she made an innocuous-sounding remark:
Perhaps the children would be happier with someone a bit more organised
In that moment, I realised the notebook wasnt some sudden, irrational idea. It was a plan. Calculated, thought-out, and deliberate.
I didnt let on that Id seen it. Im certain that if I did, she would deny everything, turn it all around on me, and probably make the situation even riskier.
I feel completely lost.
Im frightened.
And never in my life have I felt so deeply wounded.
