I’m a granny used as free childcare

DEAR BEL,

I CARE for my grandson, aged five, while my daughter and son-in-law work.

I’ve done this for nearly three years, taking him back and forth to school, sometimes attending daytime events and also looking after him when he is ill. I love my time with him, especially since my mother and grandmother died before they could enjoy grandchildren.

At weekends, my daughter and her husband want their son to themselves, which I understand. But they regularly invite my son-in-law’s mother and partner to join them on day trips and weekends away, saying they need some quality time with their grandson as well.

Those grandparents also work full-time and enjoy a luxuriant lifestyle. I have no issue with this, but now and again think it would be nice if I was invited along. I’m told I am selfish even to suggest it, as I have enough time with my grandson. I’ve asked if I can take him to a zoo or theme park and been told no, the weekends are theirs. My son-in-law agrees with her that I’m being selfish.

My daughter has the school holidays off, so I never get a day to take him anywhere.

I feel that mine is the hard slog with none of the pleasure other grandparents get. I’m just building memories at the school gate and in my living room with my grandson — who has asked why I can’t go out for the day with them all.

I’ve wondered if my daughter is jealous that she can’t be home full-time, but I also think she is using me somewhat. My husband says I should get myself a job and let them sort out their own childcare and pay for it.

But if I did that I’d hardly see my grandson at all. I’m only asking for an odd day to take him somewhere or even occasionally go along with them.

JULIA

SIx years ago, I wouldn’t have understood this letter. Empathy and imagination are wonderful, but some experiences need to be truly felt — and that’s the case with a grandparent’s woes. Let me say that you are obviously a wonderful granny and that little boy is very lucky — as are his parents.

Every grandmotherly fibre in my body sympathises with you — but issues a warning as well.

Over the years I’ve had many letters from mothers miserable at the way their daughters and sons treat them. Such problems are heartbreaking — and should put yours in perspective.

I know that five-year-olds are hard work; on the other hand, grandparents who are deprived of seeing their grandchildren would cry out in envy of your position.

When you talk of ‘building memories at the school gate and in my living room’, you are describing something infinitely precious — something that shouldn’t be diminished by that small word ‘just’.

You are the adult this little boy chats to about what happened during his day. You are the one he will tell if someone was mean to him. Not so much ‘hard slog’, surely?

Don’t you play games, do drawings, have fun? Your time with him is so precious — and to be treasured. You have him to yourself, one-to-one, whereas the others have him only as a group. The other grandparents may be rich (and you may feel a tad envious), but they can’t give him what you do.

Here’s the thing: your daughter is quite right to say that the other grandparents need time with the boy. At the same time, I certainly don’t think you are selfish to wish to be invited on an outing now and then.

I can’t think why they don’t realise that this is uniquely enriching for a child — ‘to be with all these people who love you’, as my daughter told her two last Saturday, at lunch with both sets of grandparents.

But, you know, the situation will change as he grows older. At some point, he will demand that you come with them all to the zoo, or wherever. An eight-year-old is listened to!

In the meantime, I disagree with your husband and believe you should continue as you are, without rocking the boat. Moaning is counterproductive and people never respond to silent martyrdom.

Yes, daughters can be a bit selfish (believe me, mine tests me sometimes, as I’m sure I do her!), but that goes with the territory in most families. In your place, I’d make the time that sweet grandchild spends with me the best ever . . . and be patient.