GRANNIES AS NANNIES

I read an interesting article in a magazine recently that resonated with me, not because I’m being pressured into childcare. I luckily don’t have children, but many of my friends are in that position and it’s hard to watch.

In the article a newly retired woman, who had worked all of her life, completed a retirement course. Knowing that time is short once you retire, she had all of these plans, but was under pressure from her daughter to look after her kids before and after school and during the school holidays as she and her husband didn’t want to get o the career ladder.

e woman loved her family, but she had worked hard all of her life and didn’t want to give up her plans to do it all again. She also didn’t want to change her relationship with her grandchildren from being doting granny to their caregiver.

However she was also worried about saying no as it would change her relationship with her daughter and she feared being judged as sel sh.

My only experience is people trying to dump their dogs on me for free doggie daycare, but so many women in my social circle have been put under this pressure.

Back in 2015 a member of our book club, sold up and followed her daughter to Oz to help out with child care. ree years in, her son-in-law got transferred to Singapore and she was stuck in Oz, without the funds to return home.

A neighbour with four sons has brought up all of her boys’ children while the parents go and work. She loves her grandkids, but says it’s hard work as you get older. It’s also very restrictive as her own pursuits and hobbies come second to her job as an unpaid nanny.

What needs to be done to balance the picture? Surely there are other ways, other options?

AMANDA, EMAIL

As I navigate the choppy seas of old age, I nd myself an unexpected captain of a ship I didn’t know I was boarding – the SS Full-Time Childminder.

Don’t get me wrong: my love for my grandkids is not in question, but I never thought my retirement plans would morph into running a bustling, pint-sized B&B.

While I adore the kids, I sometimes wonder if my official title has shifted from “World’s Best Grandma” to “Chief Cookie Baker and Make-It-Better Kisser”. It’s a role lled with love, but there’s also an unspoken expectation that’s as sticky as the jam handprints I nd myself washing o the walls.

is isn’t a cry for help. It’s an observation that we live in a world where both parents have to work full-time to support their family. I wonder what they’d do without me.

IN THE TRENCHES, EMAIL