That night, I wrote back. I told my son I adored the children, but my role was grandmother, not nanny. I reminded him I had earned this chapter of freedom. I offered joyful help instead — one weekly “grandma day,” school events, and being there when truly needed. But I was clear: my retirement wasn’t theirs to schedule.
The next day, my son called and apologized, admitting he’d taken me for granted. My daughter-in-law eventually thanked me for being honest. Weeks later, the kids ran into my arms on our first grandma day — and I knew I’d found the balance I needed.
