My grandchildren only get fresh fruit once a month, but shes buying expensive food for her cats, my daughter-in-law complained loudly, blaming me for being unfeeling.
She tries to shame me because her children only see fruit from time to time, while my cats are well-fed with quality food. But the simple truth is, those children have a mother and father who are supposed to look after their nutrition, but for my cats, Im all theyve got. When I once hinted to my son and his wife that perhaps it was time to slow down on having more kids, they made it quite clear that it was none of my business. So I dont interfere anymore. I mind my own cats and listen to the outbursts of my doting daughter-in-law.
My son and his now-wife got married after shed already fallen pregnant. Of course, they both swore blind that it was a love match and the pregnancy was just one of those things; a coincidence, really. I raised an eyebrow but left it at that. After all, my sons a grown man and has to live with his choices.
Before her maternity leave, my daughter-in-law worked as a cashier in a supermarket. Most of her pregnancy was spent taking time off sick, always saying she couldnt deal with the public who were always looking for an argument. Frankly, I believe itshes never been especially easygoing or patient herself.
Not that it really bothered me, as we lived separately: I had my own flat and my son and his wife had theirson a mortgage, naturally. He bought their place not long before the wedding. Wed once lived together in my three-bed, which I owned, but after the wedding we sold it. I bought myself a one-bedroom, and my son used his share as a deposit for a new mortgage on a three-bed flat.
Why do you need such a big place, its so expensive! Id tried to reason with him before he broke the news about the wedding. But then it all made sense.
He shouldered the mortgage on his own; his wife, who was constantly signed off sick and soon on maternity, wasnt bringing in any money. She certainly knew how to spend it, though, so the young couple was always skint.
I avoided getting involved so I wouldnt be cast as the villain in their household drama. My son chose her as his wife, so evidently, she suited him. We didnt share a home, so we didnt have to squabble over cooking or bathrooms. Let them get on with it.
Incidentally, my sons flat was quite near mine, so hed occasionally pop in for supper after work. His wife didnt bother much with cooking, always saying the smells made her feel sick. Fair enough, I suppose; I wasnt going to argue.
When my first grandchild arrived, I thought about lending a hand, what with it being her first, but was very briskly told off. Apparently she could manage just fine on her own and had the Internet and her own mother for advice. Fine by me! I settled for visiting to see my grandson, bringing gifts and treats, but never offered to help again.
It was tough for my son, juggling the mortgage, wife, and baby, but he never complainedhe knew this was what hed signed up for. I did what I could, feeding him the occasional dinner, reassuring him that things would get easier once the little one grew and his wife went back to work.
Only, she had no intention of going back. When their son was nearly two, she was expecting again. I gently remarked that they were rather keen to solve the countrys demographic crisis and suggested slowing down, and was swiftly told off by my daughter-in-law.
Keep your nose out! Were fine. We dont ask you for anything! she snapped.
My son mumbled something vague about child tax credits and how the arrangement would work out. Well, its their choice, isnt it? My relationship with my daughter-in-law had never been great anyway, and after that, I limited contact even more. My son would occasionally bring the eldest round to visit, but I didnt get in the way.
We lived parallel lives: me on my own, and my son with his little family. My son often told me how cash-strapped they were, and I could sense from his stories that things werent all rosy between him and his wife. But I kept quiet. What could I really say? Get a divorce? Sit down and talk? Find a new job? As if it was that simple.
The second grandchild came along and I wasnt allowed anywhere nearnot even invited to the hospital when they brought him home. That stung, but I wasnt about to force myself on them. Why put myself in that position, when shes clearly made her decision about me and my son isnt about to contradict her?
I first met my second grandson when he was seven months old. I was graciously allowed round for the eldests birthday party. I brought presents for both boys and something for the table, knowing they were short of money. My daughter-in-law walked around with a face like thunder the whole time, as though she was granting me a huge favour and I ought to be grovelling in gratitude.
Im too old to be chasing after every self-important girl, trying to talk sense into her. So I stopped offering to visit, and they never invited me. Id see my older grandchild when my son brought him over, but the younger stayed at home.
Their financial situation never improved. Her tax credits and benefits towards the mortgage didnt solve anything. My son complained more and more that arguments were breaking out over moneyhis wife had no sense of saving, and he, well, isnt some sort of City banker. Still, I held my tongue.
Not long ago, I bumped into my daughter-in-law at the shops. I saw she was expecting again. She glanced pointedly into my trolley.
Typical! The grandchildren only get fruit once a month, yet she buys her cats that posh food, she spat before dragging the elder child out in a huff.
But whose fault is it, really, that I can afford proper food for my pets, and they cant even manage fruit for their children? She knows their moneys tight, their mortgage is heavy, my sons job isnt wonderful, and yet she keeps having children one after the other. Why doesnt she go out and earn money for her kids’ fruit? Why should that be my burden?
I wouldnt be surprised if she soon bans me from seeing the grandchildren altogether, in her mind I’m the bad grandmother who wont hand over every last pound to support her son’s family. You have to live with your own wits, but I honestly dont think my daughter-in-law has much of that. The saddest part is, Im not sure my son does, either.
