How on earth am I supposed to tell my lot that I dont want to look after the grandchildren? Why does everyone assume grannies must become martyrs?
Im 58, for goodness sake. Ive already survived raising three kids. My eldest, James, has a job, a wife, and now a little one of his own. Of course, I wasnt exactly champing at the bit about him starting a family so young, but apparently, my opinion was the background noise no one noticed.
Every weekend, without fail, James drops in for a visit, which is code for dropping his son off with me so he and the missus can nip out for a wander round town. Yes, yes, I get it theyre still young, want to have fun. But hang on, Im not ancient! I have hobbies, friends, and plans of my own. I want to sign up for a pottery class or give yoga a go, but thats just wishful thinking at this point every spare minute Ive got is hoovered up by babysitting.
Just yesterday, my middle child, Oliver, drops the following bombshell:
Mum, youre going to be a nan again! Youll never have a dull day from now on!
Oh, will I not? Why is it universally assumed Im just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs, desperate for chaos? Id quite like to live a bit for myself, thanks very much; make up for those lost years spent running after kids. If my daughter Emily ever breezes in to say shes pregnant, I might actually faint.
How do I get across to my brood that looking after grandchildren isnt my calling in life? Why does everyone assume grannies are meant to sacrifice themselves for the sake of the young familys convenience? Utter rubbish Grandmothers are people too, you know! No harm in wanting to see friends, go on dates, or just gallivant about at the weekend.
So, what do you reckon do grandmas owe everyone free childcare, or do we have every right to occasionally say, Not today! and only help when we actually fancy it?
