My husband thought paying my mother to babysit our two children was a waste of money. “She should be grateful to be able to spend time with her grandchildren,” he said. So when he fired her to “save money,” I decided to teach him a lesson—in the harshest way.
Money has a way of revealing people’s true colors. I learned this the hard way when my husband, Miles, showed me exactly who he was—not through his words, but through his actions toward my mother. The day he took custody of our children away from her, he not only broke her heart, he destroyed my trust in him.
That said, sometimes the best lessons are those learned by letting someone lose what they took for granted. Here’s how it all began…
Portrait of a Sad Woman | Source: Midjourney
“We need another baby,” Miles said one evening, his eyes shining with excitement as he helped me load the dishwasher. “Imagine Evie with a little sister or brother. Don’t you want that for her?”
I placed the last plate in the basket, trying to ignore the way my stomach tightened at his words. “I’m happy with Evie, only. She’s perfect just the way she is.”
“Come on, Jenny.” He dried his hands and hugged me from behind. “I’ve always dreamed of having a big family. Do you remember how lonely I was when I was little, because I was an only child?” He held out his hand. “I promise I’ll help you more. You won’t have to do it alone.”
A man hugging his wife from behind | Source: Unsplash
“You say that now, but…”
“I mean it. Every diaper change, every evening meal… I’ll be there. Trust me.”
“Like you were there last night when Evie had a fever?”
His face fell. “That was different. I had the quarterly report due.”
“There’s always something, Miles.”
“This time will be different,” he insisted, pulling me towards him. “No matter what, we’re in this together. I want us to give Evie the gift of a brother or sister. Please?”
I should have known better than to believe him.
Nine months later, Amber arrived, rosy-cheeked and with her, sleepless nights. Miles’ promises evaporated like morning dew, leaving me drowning in exhaustion.
A cute baby | Source: Unsplash
“I have a very early meeting,” he often mumbled, turning away as Amber moaned at 3 a.m.
“The presentation is tomorrow… I really need to focus,” he’d say, as I juggled a fussy baby and a toddler demanding attention.
“Mom, get up!” Evie begged, as I tried to breastfeed Amber and prepare dinner simultaneously.
“Just a minute, darling” became my constant refrain, guilt gnawing at me as I watched my eldest child’s face darken.
My mother, Wendy, bless her heart, saw me struggling. Sometimes she would come after her nursing shifts, still in her scrubs, just to give me an hour’s respite.
Close-up of a woman carrying her baby | Source: Unsplash
“Jennifer, honey, let me help you,” she said one day, watching me try to feed Amber while Evie tugged at my shirt. “I could take early retirement and babysit while you both work.”
“Mom, I can’t ask you to quit your nursing job. You love it.”
“You’re not asking me. I’m offering it,” she said, pulling Evie into her arms, who immediately snuggled up to her. “Besides, what’s more important than family? And honestly, honey, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“In that case we must pay you,” I insisted. “It’s only fair.”
“Three thousand a month is fine with me,” she said. “It’s less than what you’d pay for daycare, and I’ll cook and clean too.”
A worried elderly woman | Source: Midjourney
When I mentioned it to Miles that evening, his reaction was immediate. “Three thousand? Just to babysit his own grandchildren?”
“She’s giving up her job for us, Miles.”
“It’s called retirement. People do it all the time, Jenny.”
The comments started timidly, then became more and more frequent, like poison ivy spreading through our house. Mom offered to babysit, and it was such a relief, at least to me. But Miles… well, he had other things on his mind.
“It must be nice to get paid to play with your grandkids all day,” Miles would mutter when Mom wasn’t looking.
A frustrated man | Source: Midjourney
“The house could be cleaner for what we pay,” he grumbled, even though Mom kept our house spotless while caring for two young children.
Weeks passed, and one afternoon at work, I was about to hang up after a call with Miles when I heard voices in the background. “Remember to hang up when you’re done,” I’d told him earlier. But that day, he hadn’t, and what I heard gave me goosebumps.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, his voice crackling over the speaker. “Three thousand dollars a month for what? She should be grateful we’re letting her spend time with her grandchildren.”
A scared woman holding a phone | Source: Midjourney
I froze and my blood ran cold when I heard footsteps in the background, then my mother’s voice singing softly to Amber.
“We appreciate everything you’ve done, Wendy,” Miles said, his tone formal and cold. “But we decided it was best if you, uh, moved on.”
“Move on?” Mom’s voice wavered slightly.
“It’s just… frankly, it’s not fair to keep paying you when daycare is a more… cost-effective solution.”
An anxious elderly woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
The silence that followed was deafening. Then, in a low voice, Mom said, “If that’s what you both want.”
“It is,” Miles quickly replied.
I heard the soft sound of a spoon being placed, then Mom’s soft footsteps moving away.
I hung up and called Miles, but he wasn’t answering. I rushed home to find Mom already gone and Miles standing there unrepentant.
“Where is she?” I yelled, bursting through the door. “How dare you tell her to leave?”
He jumped, then narrowed his eyes. “How did you—”
“You didn’t hang up the phone, Miles. I heard everything.”
Portrait of an angry woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
He shrugged, quickly composing himself. “It’s for the best. She’ll be fine. And we’ll save money.”
“Save money?” I laughed bitterly. “Let’s see how much we save.”
I tried calling Mom that night, but she didn’t pick up. When she finally called back the next day, her voice was brimming with unshed tears.
“I’m fine, Jennifer,” she insisted. “Actually, I’ve already found something new. The Andersons, down the street, needed a nanny for their twins. They pay more than you, and they seem to appreciate what I do.”
My heart sank. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he…”
“It’s okay, darling. Maybe it’s better this way. I love you and the girls, but I won’t work where I’m not appreciated.”
An emotional elderly woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
The next few weeks were pure chaos. Daycare cost more than we’d paid Mom, and the kids were constantly sick. No more home-cooked meals, no more flexible pick-up times, and no more grandmotherly love woven into every moment of their day.
“Another ear infection?” Miles groaned as I got off the phone with the pediatrician. “That’s the third one this month!”
“That’s what happens when they’re exposed to so many other children,” I replied, trying to calm a crying Amber while Evie clung to my leg, also feverish.
“Well, one of us has to stay home with them,” he said. “And I have an important meeting with a client tomorrow.”
“Of course,” I whispered.
A man in distress | Source: Midjourney
The breaking point was reached when Miles showed up late to pick up the girls one night.
“Seventy-five dollars?” he exploded, brandishing a late fee notice. “That’s grand theft!”
I ran into Mom from time to time at the grocery store, looking happier than ever. “The Andersons are wonderful,” she told me one day. “They even thanked me yesterday for making dinner. And now they pay me $4,300 a month.”
“Maybe we should call Mom,” I innocently suggested to Miles that evening.
“Fine,” he growled. “Tell her she can come back. Same pay.”
I smiled kindly. “She’s making $4,300 now, Miles. And they appreciate it.”
An elderly woman delighted to babysit someone’s child | Source: Midjourney
Her face turned red. “This is ridiculous! She doesn’t need that much money! We’ll take care of it.”
That’s when I knew exactly what he needed: a lesson.
“I have a business trip next week,” I announced nonchalantly over breakfast. “Five days. I’ve already spoken to your boss about it, so you have time to take care of the kids.”
“What? But I can’t.”
“Of course I do. It’s just watching the kids all day. How difficult could it be? After all, it’s a privilege to spend time with your children, isn’t it?”
A scared man | Source: Midjourney
I packed for the spa I’d booked, leaving Miles a detailed schedule of the girls’ routines. “Don’t worry,” I said, kissing his cheek. “You’ve got everything you need.”
His messages started pouring in on the second day:
“How do you get Amber to eat her vegetables?”
“Evie can’t stop crying because of her pink cup.”
“The washing machine is making strange noises.”
“Please call me back.”
“I haven’t slept in 48 hours.”
“How does your mother do this all day?”
“PLEASE COME BACK… I’M SORRY.”
I turned off my phone and ordered another massage.
A woman reading messages on her phone with a satisfied smile | Source: Midjourney
When I finally got home, the house looked like a tornado had hit. Toys littered every surface, dishes filled the sink, and laundry overflowed from baskets. Miles sat on the couch, unshaven and hollow-eyed, surrounded by chaos. The girls ate cereal straight from the box.
“Your mother,” he said quietly, “is a saint.”
I put down my bags. “Oh really?”
“I was wrong. I was so wrong.” He ran his hands through his greasy hair. “I’m going to apologize to her. Whatever she wants to be paid for, it’s worth it. Please, just ask her to come back.”
“And ?”
“And my apologies. To you. To her. To everyone.” He stared at me, his eyes red. “I understand now. I really do. I had no idea how much work it was. How she managed to keep the house clean, cook meals, and take care of them… I couldn’t even get them to nap.”
A Guilty and Defeated Man | Source: Midjourney
“The Andersons really appreciate her,” I said emphatically. “They thank her for dinner. They respect her experience. They pay her what she’s worth.”
“I’ll do better,” he promised. “I’ll match what they pay. More, even. And I’ll never take her for granted again.”
“It’s no longer up to me to set conditions,” I reminded her. “You’ll have to convince her yourself.”
Mom agreed to meet us for coffee the following Sunday. Miles, still humiliated by his five days as a solo dad, could barely meet her gaze.
A smiling elderly woman holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney
“Wendy,” he said, his voice breaking. “I was wrong. So wrong. The way I treated you… there’s no excuse.”
Mom slowly stirred her coffee. “No, there isn’t any.”
“I understand now what you’re doing. What you’ve always done for us. And I’m not just sorry… I’m ashamed.”
She stared at him. “It was never about money, Miles. It was about respect.”
“I know that now,” he swallowed hard. “The Andersons are lucky to have you. But if you were considering coming back… we’d match their salary, of course. And I swear, things would be different.”
Mom glanced at me, then turned back to Miles. “Different how?”
“I will treat you like the professional you are. Because that’s what you are—a professional who has chosen to help our family. Not someone doing us a favor, but someone providing us with an invaluable service.”
A Desperate Man | Source: Midjourney
Mom was silent for a long time, thinking. Finally, she said, “I need this in writing. Including sick leave and vacation time.”
“Absolutely,” Miles quickly agreed. “Whatever you want.”
Watching them discuss the details, I couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes the best way to teach someone the value of things isn’t to tell them, but to show them. And sometimes you have to lose something precious to realize how precious it was.
A happy woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Here’s another story : At 20, I became a mother overnight after my sister disappeared, leaving her baby behind. Twelve years later, she returned, not with love or regret, but with a request that could tear us apart.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the story. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims regarding the accuracy of events or character portrayals and are not responsible for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and the opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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