28October2025
Im furious tonight. Ive just had another blowup with my mother and I cant even bring myself to ring my husbands mum. It feels like the whole world is against us, even though we technically have two grandmothers on our side.
But having them is generous wording. Both women live a stones throwabout a hundred metresfrom the nursery where little Oliver goes each morning, and they both stubbornly refuse to pick him up. I could do it myself, but I finish work at six oclock, far too late to be there on time. James works night shifts at the steel plant, so he cant reliably cover the slot either. That leaves us with no choice but to hire a childminder, a cost that is chewing through the family budget like a hungry dog. And thats supposed to be the benefit of having grandmothers!
Mum works until four, and every day she walks past the nursery on her way home. Her own life is a whirlwind at the momentshes freshly divorced from my stepdad and is trying to rebuild herself. She tells me she needs to unwind after work, do face masks and all that, to feel younger. Weekends are booked with cinema trips, art exhibitions, catchups with friends. She only ever looks after Oliver on the odd weekend, claiming his endless running around the house disrupts her meditation. She loves to dish out parenting advice, yet she draws a hard line at actually getting involved.
Jamess mother is another story entirely. She has never held a job; shes spent her whole life as a housewife. She raised four children within three years of each other, with James being the eldest. On paper she sounds like the perfect fallback, but she insists shes already stretched thin with her own brood and the endless houseworkcooking, cleaning, laundry, feeding the family and tidying up after everyone. Her younger sons, now eighteen and twentyone, are completely independent, so she argues she simply doesnt have the time or the desire to look after a grandchild.
Once she even snatched Oliver from me at the nursery, looking absolutely outraged. She claimed she had no energy left after a long day, that the men were exhausted and hungry when they got home, and that I should have taken responsibility for the baby myself. She made it clear we couldnt count on her help any longer.
The cost of Olivers care is a massive strain on our finances. Im sick of the hypocrisy: every Christmas they meet Oliver, coo over how much they love him, and argue over who bought which gift. We dont need the presents; we need genuine help. So today I practically begged Mum on the phone to pick Oliver up, because we simply cant afford a babysitter right now.
We cant rely on our parents for either money or real assistance. Jamess mother refuses to chip in financially, saying the lads eat out and the whole paycheck goes on groceries. I cant see a way out of this. Every penny we earn disappears on food, clothes, household bills, and now the childminders wages. How on earth do we make the grandmothers step in and actually help?
Im left feeling trapped, overwhelmed, and exhausted, wondering if theres any light at the end of this tunnel.
EmilyIve decided to write a heartfelt letter to both grandmothers, laying out our desperation and asking them plainly to be the hands that lift us out of this endless juggling act.
