When I told my husband that I couldn’t manage taking care of the house, the kids, and going back to work to support his mother, I was shocked by what he said. Haha!😢
You are well aware of how hard it is for us to make ends meet. Get a side job if you wish to support your mother. However, I won’t let us help her at the expense of our children.
Yes, she has previously assisted us, and I am grateful for that. But let’s face it, she has a pension and a place to live, so she’s not homeless. Why must we now bear this load for the remainder of her life?
“But she isn’t requesting much.” Lucas uttered a hesitant statement. She’s growing up. We ought to look after her. Perhaps you ought to think about returning to your job? Supporting a wife, three kids, and now my mother is too much for me.
“Why should you stand by her side?” I lost my temper. “She receives a pension! You are not required by law to provide for your adult mother financially.
“Emma, this isn’t about the law. It has to do with conscience. For example, there is no law requiring a husband to provide for his wife once the children turn three.
“Oh, I see! So the law now governs our lives? I’m not staying at home because I’m lazy. We need to nurture, educate, and feed our three children!
“All right. I’ll return to my job. Let me clarify, though: I will be a working mother of three. I also refuse to be the only one who does the family’s washing, food shopping, cooking, cleaning, homework, and floor scrubbing on the weekends when my spouse is still alive.
We’ll divide out the duties equitably. When you get home from work, you’re accustomed to putting on the television and enjoying a hot supper. Well, forget about that! You’ll be peeling potatoes while I do the laundry if I’m at work.
Everything will be split 50/50. Let’s then examine how convenient my job is for you.
I dropped the plate in my hands when he said something. I stood there in disbelief as it broke loudly on the floor.
His mother, Clara, kindly offered us a modest one-bedroom apartment that she had inherited from her own mother when Lucas and I first got married. That generosity was a lifeline for us at the moment, and I sincerely appreciate it.
We sold that apartment a few years after the birth of our second kid and utilized the proceeds to pay down a mortgage. As a result, we relocated to a large three-bedroom apartment that included a living room, a nice bedroom, and a separate room for the girls. Lucas never fails to remind me:
“You know, Emma, we would be paying three times as much for rent if it weren’t for my mom. We were startled by her.
Yes, I do recall, but I’m sick of saying it. Now, though, it isn’t the purpose. We’re barely making ends meet. He then proposes that we pay Clara $20,000 a month since she is sick of working and wants to live alone, get a dog, and unwind at the cottage.
I calmly reminded him, “Store-bought cookies are too expensive, so you’re not the one spending hours in the kitchen baking them.” You’re not the one who shops 10 different places for deals or listens to the kids whine that they’re sick of wearing secondhand clothing. You simply bring your paycheck home and unwind. I’m the one keeping everything together, and now your mother as well?
Perhaps I should go to work, he suggested.
“Excellent!” “I said.” But be aware that I shall now divide everything I do at home equally. I refuse to cook, clean, assist with homework, and do my own laundry when I get home from work. You’ll assist. You will then be able to observe the true nature of it.
The discussion became heated. When the phone rang, I threw the dish towel on the table in exasperation. Clara was the one. Lucas put her on the speaker.
“Lucas, did you speak with Emma?” With a smile, she asked.
He made an effort to gently explain that things are difficult because of the kids and the mortgage.
She interrupted, saying, “I’ve worked all my life, son. I want to live my life for me now. Do I have too many questions?
I tightened my jaw. She didn’t even inquire about our financial situation. We owe her, she said just now. No compromising. No pity.
I switched off my phone after the call and turned to face Lucas.
“You heard her. She sees us as nothing more than a bank machine. And you want me to give it to her after taking it from our kids?
He didn’t say anything. His mother made him feel sorry. But he knew in his heart that I was correct.
What are your thoughts? Where does self-sacrifice end and thankfulness begin? Even if it causes harm to their own family, should adult children assist their parents?
