We Started Pretending We Werent Home to Avoid Grandchildrens Visits
I never thought Id ever say out loud, “I dont want the grandchildren to visit.” Even Im ashamed of the thought. But every story has two sides, and perhaps, hearing ours, youll understand why my wife and I hide inside our own flat.
Im 67, and my wife, Margaret, is 65. We became grandparents earlyour daughter, Emily, was barely 30 when she had her first child. Little Sophie was born, and it felt like a new youth had swept over us. Wed push her pram through Hyde Park, dote on her, buy toys, spoil her rotten. We were so happy we even joked, “Were young grandparentsmeans well enjoy it all the more.” Back then, it truly felt like a blessing.
Then came the second childanother girl, Charlotte. We loved her just as much, took them on weekends, helped where we could. Emily never askedwe insisted. We adore our children and grandchildren. But then came the third pregnancy twins. And suddenly, everything changed.
With the two boys, Oliver and James, the house turned into chaos. Weekends werent calm anymorethey were a full-blown nursery. Shouting, running, constant cryingendless mayhem. We grew weary. Not of loving them, but of exhaustion. Id had heart surgery, and Margarets doctors told her not to lift heavy things. But Emily seemed to ignore it. Shed call saying, “Were on our way,” without asking if it suited us. Sometimes theyd show up unannounced, as if it were an obligation.
One day, spotting them approaching the door, I leaned close to Margaret and whispered, “Lets pretend were not here.” She nodded silently. We turned off the lights, stayed perfectly still. They knocked, rang the bell, even tried their keysbut we hid like frightened children.
When they left, Margaret cried. Not from joyfrom bitterness. “How did it come to this?” she asked. And I had no answer.
We love our grandchildren, but were not a free nursery for the elderly. We want to live our days in peace, sometimes just the two of us, reading a book, going to the West End. Were not obliged to be full-time babysitters.
Emily was hurt when she realised wed been home and didnt answer. She said wed become selfish. But I ask: is it selfish to want a bit of quiet and respect for our time?
Im not writing this to justify myself. Only to remind: growing old isnt a sentence. Even grandparents deserve rest and boundaries. Loving grandchildren doesnt mean letting them walk all over us. Its caring for themwithout forgetting to care for ourselves.
