My husband, Miles, thought paying my mom to babysit our two children was a complete waste of money. “She should be grateful just to spend time with her grandkids,” he scoffed. But when he fired her to “save money,” I knew it was time to teach him a lesson the hard way.
Money has a way of revealing a person’s true colors. I learned this the day Miles decided my mother wasn’t worth the paycheck we had agreed on. That day, he didn’t just break her heart—he shattered my faith in him.
But some lessons are best learned through experience. So, I decided to give Miles exactly that. Here’s how it all started…
The Conversation That Started It All
One evening, while we were cleaning up after dinner, Miles turned to me with a grin. “We need another baby,” he said, stacking the plates into the dishwasher. “Just imagine Evie with a little sister or brother. Don’t you want that for her?”
I placed the last plate in the rack, ignoring the way my stomach twisted at the thought. “I’m happy with just Evie. She’s perfect as she is.”
“Come on, Jenny.” He dried his hands and wrapped his arms around me. “I always dreamed of having a big family. Remember how lonely I was as an only child?”
I hesitated. “You say that now, but—”
“I mean it,” he interrupted. “Every diaper change, every late-night feeding… 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.”
He pulled me closer. “This time will be different. Whatever happens, we’re in this together. I want us to give Evie the gift of a sibling. Please?”
I should have known better than to believe him.
Reality Hits Hard
Nine months later, Amber arrived, all pink cheeks and sleepless nights. And just like that, Miles’s promises evaporated like morning dew.
“I have an early meeting,” he mumbled at 3 a.m., rolling over as Amber wailed.
“The presentation’s tomorrow… I really need to focus,” he’d say, while I juggled a fussy baby and a needy toddler.
“Mommy, up!” Evie would plead, tugging at my sleeve while I tried to breastfeed Amber and cook dinner simultaneously.
“Just a minute, sweetie,” I would say, watching her little face fall with disappointment.
Then, like a guardian angel, my mom stepped in.
“Jennifer, honey, let me help,” she said one afternoon, watching me struggle. “I could take early retirement and watch the girls while you two work.”
“Mom, I can’t ask you to quit your job. You love it.”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” She scooped up Evie, who nestled against her instantly. “Besides, what’s more important than family? And frankly, honey, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
I nodded, tears pricking my eyes. “We’ll have to pay you.”
“Three thousand a month would work,” she said. “Less than daycare, and I’ll cook and clean too.”
When I brought it up to Miles, his reaction was immediate. “Three thousand? Just to watch her own grandkids?”
“She’s giving up her career for us, Miles.”
“It’s called retirement. People do it all the time, Jenny.”
The grumbling started small but grew louder.
“Must be nice getting paid to play with your grandkids all day,” he muttered when Mom wasn’t looking.
“The house could be cleaner for what we’re paying,” he grumbled, despite Mom keeping our home spotless.
Then one afternoon, I overheard everything. He had forgotten to hang up the call before speaking to her.
“It’s ridiculous,” Miles said. “Three grand a month for what? She should be grateful we let her spend time with her grandkids.”
My blood turned to ice. Then, I heard him fire her.
A Hard Lesson
The daycare costs were higher, the kids constantly sick, and stress filled our home. One evening, Miles exploded over a late pickup fee.
“Seventy-five dollars?! This is robbery!”
Meanwhile, I saw Mom at the store. “The Andersons hired me to watch their twins,” she said with a smile. “They’re paying me $4,300 a month. And they actually appreciate what I do.”
That night, I turned to Miles. “Maybe we should ask Mom back?”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Same pay.”
I smiled sweetly. “She’s making $4,300 now, Miles. And they respect her.”
His face turned red. “That’s ridiculous!”
“I have a business trip next week,” I said. “You’ll have to stay home with the kids.”
“What? But I can’t—”
“It’s just babysitting, right? Should be easy.”
By day two, his messages flooded my phone.
“How do you get Amber to eat her vegetables?”
“Evie won’t stop crying about her pink cup.”
“I haven’t slept in 48 hours.”
“PLEASE COME BACK. I’M SORRY.”
I turned off my phone and booked another massage.
When I returned, the house was a disaster. Miles sat on the couch, unshaven, eyes hollow.
“Your mother,” he said hoarsely, “is a saint.”
The Apology
At coffee with Mom, Miles was humble.
“Wendy, I was wrong,” he said. “The way I treated you… there’s no excuse.”
Mom stirred her coffee. “No, there isn’t.”
“If you’d consider coming back,” he pleaded. “We’d match their pay. And I swear things would be different.”
Mom looked at me, then at him. “Different how?”
“I’d treat you like the professional you are. With respect.”
Mom took a long moment, then said, “I’ll need that in writing. Including sick days and vacation time.”
Miles nodded. “Absolutely. Whatever you want.”
I smiled. Sometimes, the best way to teach value isn’t to tell someone. It’s to show them.