My MIL Asked to Have Our Kids for a Week over the Holidays – When I Went to Pick Them Up, My Heart Shattered

When my mother-in-law insisted on hosting my kids for a holiday break, I thought it was harmless—grandma bonding time and a little breather for me. What I didn’t expect was the gut-wrenching discovery that would change everything about how I saw her.

I’m Abby, 34, and I’ve been married to my husband, Brad, for seven years. We have two kids: Lucas, 8, and Sophie, 6. My mother-in-law, Jean, is in her late 60s. We’ve always had what I’d call a cordial relationship—polite smiles, small talk, the occasional dinner invite.

Woman and her mother in law preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

Woman and her mother in law preparing dinner | Source: Midjourney

But Jean has always been… intense. There’s this energy about her, you know? Like she’s trying to prove she’s the perfect grandmother, but she can be controlling.

“She’s just old-fashioned,” Brad would say with a shrug whenever I mentioned it. “She means well.”

I tried to believe that. For years, I brushed off the little things. Her insistence on calling Lucas her boy or the time she scolded Sophie for eating with her hands, saying, “Not under my roof, young lady!”

Senior woman having dinner with her grandchild | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman having dinner with her grandchild | Source: Midjourney

But when Jean called me last month, her voice cheerful, and asked, “Abby, how would you feel about me taking Lucas and Sophie for a whole week during their holiday break?” my stomach did a tiny flip.

“A week?” I repeated, caught off guard.

“Yes! I’d love to have them all to myself—just spoil them rotten. You and Brad could use the time, couldn’t you? A little break?”

I glanced at Brad, who gave me a thumbs up. “They’ll have fun,” he added.

“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly.

Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney

Woman on phone | Source: Midjourney

She practically squealed with excitement. “Oh, don’t you worry about a thing, dear. They’ll be in good hands.”

Before sending them off, I gave Jean $1,000 for their expenses.

“Jean,” I said as I handed her the envelope, “this is just to make sure you don’t have to dip into your savings for food or anything they might need this week.”

She looked surprised at first but then beamed. “Oh, Abby, that’s so thoughtful of you! Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use. These kids are going to have the best week ever.”

Woman handing an envelope to her mother in law | Source: Midjourney

Woman handing an envelope to her mother in law | Source: Midjourney

The week crawled by, slower than I expected. I thought I’d enjoy the quiet, but I found myself reaching for my phone to call Lucas and Sophie more often than I should have.

When the day finally came to pick them up, I was practically vibrating with excitement. I couldn’t wait to see their little faces and hear about their week. But as I pulled up to Jean’s house, I felt uneasy.

The house looked the same as always, but something felt… wrong. Maybe it was just me being silly. Or maybe it was the way Jean opened the door.

“Abby! You’re here!” she greeted me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Senior woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, Jean! How were they?” I asked, stepping inside.

“Oh, wonderful,” she replied, her voice shaky. But something about her demeanor felt… off. She was too cheerful, too composed like she was holding onto a script.

I glanced around the house, expecting to hear the usual chaos of toys clattering or kids yelling. But the house was silent. Dead silent.

“Where are the kids?” I asked again, glancing around the empty living room. Normally, by now, they’d be running to me with hugs and excited stories.

Anxious woman in a large living room | Source: Midjourney

Anxious woman in a large living room | Source: Midjourney

Jean’s smile didn’t waver, but something was unsettling about the way she clasped her hands together. “Oh, they’re inside,” she said breezily, gesturing toward the house. “They’ve been so busy today—lots of work.”

I frowned. “Work? What kind of work?”

Jean chuckled nervously and waved her hand like I was being silly. “Oh, just little things. Helping out their grandma. You know how kids are, always eager to lend a hand!”

Senior woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman smirking | Source: Midjourney

I didn’t know what she meant by “work,” but her tone was off—too sweet, too dismissive. My motherly instincts kicked in, and I felt uneasy.

“Where exactly are they, Jean” I asked, my voice firm now.

Her eyes darted toward the hallway, then back at me. “In the backyard,” she said finally. “They’ve been helping me with the garden. They’re such little troopers!”

I didn’t wait for more excuses. I followed the faint sounds of voices to the sliding glass door. As I stepped outside, the cool air hit me, but it did nothing to stop the wave of dread washing over me.

Anxious woman in the backyard. | Source: Midjourney

Anxious woman in the backyard. | Source: Midjourney

“Lucas? Sophie?” I called out.

Then I saw them. My heart sank.

Lucas and Sophie stood there, their small faces smeared with dirt, their eyes filled with exhaustion and relief as they clung to me. Lucas’ clothes were worn and covered in stains, and Sophie’s shirt had a tear on the shoulder. Neither outfit looked familiar—certainly not what I had packed for them.

Boy and girl digging in the garden | Source: Midjourney

Boy and girl digging in the garden | Source: Midjourney

“Mom!” Lucas gasped, throwing his arms around me. Sophie followed, her tiny frame trembling as she buried her face into my side.

“What is going on here?” I demanded, turning to Jean, my voice shaking with anger. “Why are they out here like this? They were supposed to be having fun, not working!”

Lucas looked up at me, his voice quivering. “Grandma said we had to help. She told us if we worked hard, we’d go to the park… but we never went, Mom.”

Sophie added, “She made us dig all day, Mommy. I wanted to stop, but she said we had to finish first.”

Exhausted little girl standing in the garden | Source: Midjourney

Exhausted little girl standing in the garden | Source: Midjourney

I turned to Jean, who was now standing a few feet away, her arms crossed defensively.

“Jean!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “You promised me you’d spoil them this week, not turn them into laborers! What is this?!”

Jean’s face flushed, and she shifted awkwardly on her feet. “Oh, don’t exaggerate, Abby,” she said, her tone dismissive. “They were eager to help. And why not? A little hard work never hurt anyone. They’ve learned valuable lessons about responsibility and discipline.”

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

“Responsibility? Discipline?” My voice rose, trembling with rage. “They’re children, Jean! They’re supposed to be playing, laughing, being kids—not breaking their backs in your garden! How could you think this was okay?”

Jean threw up her hands, her voice defensive now. “They need to learn that life isn’t all fun and games! You’re raising them to be spoiled, Abby. I was just trying to help!”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions swirling inside me. I couldn’t let my anger consume me, not in front of the kids. But I needed answers.

Disappointed woman | Source: Midjourney

Disappointed woman | Source: Midjourney

“Jean,” I said, my voice low and controlled, “where’s the $1,000 I gave you for groceries and activities?”

She hesitated, her gaze darting toward the ground. “Oh, I didn’t need to use it for groceries,” she said, forcing a casual shrug. “The kids didn’t need all that food. And I thought… I thought I could use the money for… other things.”

My stomach churned. “Other things? What do you mean by that?”

Jean’s face turned red as she mumbled, “I… I didn’t use the money for the kids. I’ve been struggling with my bills, and I thought if I could get some help with the house and the garden, I could save some money.”

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Senior woman arguing with her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, I couldn’t speak. The betrayal hit me like a punch to the gut. “So, you used my children as free labor?” I said, my voice trembling.

She flinched but didn’t deny it. “It wasn’t like that, Abby,” she insisted, her voice defensive. “I thought it would be good for them—teach them hard work.”

“Hard work?” I repeated, my voice rising. “They’re kids, Jean! I gave you that money so you could give them a week of fun and memories. Not… this.” I gestured toward the backyard, where Lucas and Sophie sat on the porch, their small faces pale and weary.

Tired boy and girl sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

Tired boy and girl sitting on the porch | Source: Midjourney

It hit me then—this wasn’t just about the garden. Jean had always tried to exert control, to show she knew best, and now she’d dragged my kids into her twisted sense of right and wrong.

I knelt in front of Lucas and Sophie, pulling them into my arms. “I’m so sorry, babies,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

I stood, turning back to Jean, whose head hung low in shame. “Jean,” I said, my voice steady but sharp, “we’re leaving. My kids deserve to be kids—not workers in your garden.”

Guilty senior woman talking to her daughter in law | Source: Midjourney

Guilty senior woman talking to her daughter in law | Source: Midjourney

Her lips trembled as she stammered, “I… I thought I was doing the right thing.”

I shook my head. “No, Jean. You didn’t.”

Without another word, I picked up Sophie, took Lucas by the hand, and led them into the house to gather their things. We were done here.

As we stepped outside, the crisp evening air hit my face, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside Jean’s house.

Woman walking away from her mother-in-law's house | Source: Midjourney

Woman walking away from her mother-in-law’s house | Source: Midjourney

Lucas clung tightly to my hand, and Sophie nestled into my arms, her head resting on my shoulder. Their silence was heavier than words, their little bodies weighed down by exhaustion.

“Please, Abby,” Jean called after us, her voice cracking. “Don’t be angry. They’ve learned so much. It was just… it was just a mistake.”

I stopped and slowly, I turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, her expression a mix of desperation and guilt. For a moment, I considered responding, but what could I say that would change anything? The damage was already done.

Guilty senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

Guilty senior woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney

“No, Jean,” I said finally, my voice firm but calm. “This wasn’t a mistake. This was a choice—a choice you made without thinking about what they needed. They’re children, not tools to fix your problems or lessons to prove your point.”

Jean opened her mouth to reply, but I shook my head, cutting her off. “I trusted you. And you broke that trust—not just with me, but with them. I won’t let this happen again.”

She looked down, her face crumpling, but I had no room for her regret at that moment. My kids needed me.

Woman walking away with her children | Source: Midjourney

Woman walking away with her children | Source: Midjourney

As I walked to the car, Lucas finally broke the silence. “Mom?”

I looked down at him, my heart aching at the uncertainty in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Are we ever coming back here?” he asked softly.

I tightened my grip on his hand and said, “No, buddy. Not until Grandma learns how to treat you the way you deserve.”

Sophie stirred in my arms, whispering, “Good.”

And with that, I buckled them into the car and drove away, leaving behind the house, the garden, and a part of my trust I’d never get back.

Children inside a car | Source: Midjourney

Children inside a car | Source: Midjourney

If you liked this story, here’s another you’ll enjoy: “My MIL asked me to help cover her debt—What I discovered left me horrified.”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided as “is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My Husband Insisted on Homeschooling Our Daughter — I Gasped When I Found Out Why

When Mia’s husband, Ben, suddenly starts talking about homeschooling their six-year-old daughter, Lily, she’s surprised. Months earlier, they had been talking about sending the little girl to private school. So, what changed? Mia finds out when she overhears a conversation between Ben and Lily…

This all started a few months ago at a dinner party. My husband, Ben, and I were sitting with a few friends when, out of the blue, he brought up the idea of homeschooling our daughter, Lily.

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

An aerial view of people at a dinner party | Source: Midjourney

“It’s the system, you know? It’s too rigid, too focused on tests,” Ben said, leaning forward in his seat like he had discovered the secret to the universe.

“Kids need to be free to explore their creativity. I don’t want Lily’s imagination boxed in. She needs to feel things between her fingers and experience life,” he continued.

Ben reached forward to help himself to the bowl of mashed potatoes.

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

A casserole of mashed potatoes | Source: Midjourney

Everyone at the table nodded, murmuring in agreement.

“Honestly, that’s so true,” our friend Sarah chimed in as she sipped her wine. “Schools just kill creativity. I wish I had done something different with my kids. Last year, Jasmine wanted to show off her creativity through her uniform, but they didn’t accept it at school. She got a suspension warning.”

I remember glancing at Ben, completely surprised at how passionately he was speaking. He had never once mentioned anything about homeschooling before. In fact, he had been talking about us getting our six-year-old into private school.

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

A little girl in her school uniform | Source: Midjourney

But here he was, talking about homeschooling like he’d been thinking about it for years.

“We could teach her ourselves, Mia,” Ben continued, glancing over at me with a smile. “Think about it, love. No strict schedules, no standardized tests. She could learn at her own pace.”

I nodded, trying to process everything.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah, I mean, it does sound good,” I agreed. “But we need to explore all options about it first.”

I was hesitant. But I was also unsure of why I felt a slight unease creep up on me. Although when Ben spoke so passionately, it was hard not to get swept up in the dream of it all.

After that night, Ben kept bringing it up. At home, over dinner, in passing conversations, he’d make little comments all the time.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“Lily would be so much happier if she wasn’t stuck in a classroom all day.”

“We could help her learn things that matter, Mia, not just what’s on some test.”

Eventually, I started to believe that he might be right.

Before I knew it, we had decided to pull Lily out of her school and start with the new routine of homeschooling. Ben took charge of everything.

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

A little girl using a computer | Source: Midjourney

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?”

He had always been more involved with her school meetings, so I trusted him completely. And look, at first, everything seemed to be working. Ben would sit with Lily during “school hours,” and he’d proudly show me the projects they’d worked on when I got home from work.

“I’m glad she’s happy,” I told Ben one evening when I was loading the dishwasher.

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

A woman loading a dishwasher | Source: Midjourney

“She’s more than happy, Mia,” he said with a smile. “She’s thriving. Look at this! She made a solar system model all on her own.”

But then one day, I came home early from work, eager to show Lily the new set of watercolor paint I had gotten for her. I walked in quietly, not wanting to disturb whatever lesson she and Ben were doing.

And that’s when I heard Lily crying.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“But Dad, I miss my friends!” Lily sobbed. “They probably think I don’t like them anymore. I’m sure they think we’re fighting! They’ll be so mad at me for not going to school…”

I crept closer to the dining room, which had become the classroom. And I heard Ben’s voice, low and soothing.

“Lily-girl,” he said. “I told you, we can send them little gifts, okay? They won’t be mad at you.”

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

An upset little man | Source: Midjourney

Lily sniffled, but her tone lifted a little.

“Like the gifts we talked about? You’ll deliver them, right?” she said.

Deliver gifts? What on earth was my child talking about?

“Yes, darling,” he said.

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

“Like when you let me come with you when Mommy had to work? You’re going to deliver my friends’ gifts just like when you bring packages to people, right?”

I froze. I tried to piece the information together before storming in and demanding answers.

Ben wasn’t homeschooling Lily out of some grand educational philosophy that he had been talking about endlessly.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

Instead, my husband was delivering packages. All those days that I thought they were doing lessons… what had really been happening under my roof?

“Get your answers, Mia,” I muttered as I walked into the dining room.

Ben’s face turned white when he saw me.

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a shocked man | Source: Midjourney

“Care to explain what on earth Lily is talking about?” I asked.

My chest felt tight, like I was just holding it all together before some horrible news came out.

Ben let out a long breath, running his hands through his hair.

“Honey, why don’t you go play on the swing or watch some TV?” Ben told her.

We waited until Lily was happily running outside to the swing before Ben said another word.

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

A little girl sitting on a swing | Source: Midjourney

“I… I lost my job, okay? Months ago. I didn’t know how to tell you, Mia.”

I blinked, trying to process his words.

“I didn’t want you to think I was a failure.”

“You lost your job? Then what on earth have you been doing all day?”

“The homeschooling. It wasn’t about Lily’s education. It was because we couldn’t afford the tuition anymore. And I know that a few months ago I wanted her to go to private school, but I couldn’t even afford her public school fees.”

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

A close up of an upset man | Source: Midjourney

Ben paused, holding his head.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to retaliate.

“I’ve been delivering packages. It’s not stable, but it’s for a few hours a day. I take Lily with me in between her homeschooling. I know you think that I’ve been working in the study and then teaching Lily, too…”

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

A man holding two boxes | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been delivering packages? Really? This whole time?” I asked, stunned. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was a failure,” Ben said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know how to fix this situation. But you know how stressful my job was toward the end. Those hours killed me. I thought that maybe if I could just keep things together for a little while longer…”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, trying to wrap my mind around everything. I wanted to be angry.

I wanted to shout at my husband, not because he lost his job, but because he didn’t want to tell me about it. I understood the pressure of losing your job suddenly and then having to put yourself back together.

When I was pregnant with Lily, I lost my job because they couldn’t afford to keep paying me while I was on maternity leave.

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But Ben carried us right up until Lily was three years old.

I shook my head now, trying to shake some of my thoughts. I felt… sad. Sad that Ben had felt like he had to hide this from me.

“Ben, you didn’t have to do this alone,” I said, reaching toward him.

He smiled at me sadly.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

We put Lily back into school the next week using our savings. She was overjoyed to see her friends, and the guilt Ben had been carrying around began to lift when he saw her running toward them at the school gate.

As for Ben, he found another job as a grocery store manager. It wasn’t his dream job, but it was honest work that came with medical benefits. And honestly, I think it was just the fact that he was earning properly again that made the biggest difference to him.

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a grocery store | Source: Midjourney

There was a lightness back in our home that hadn’t been there in a long time. A sense that we were moving forward, together.

What would you have done?

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple with their daughter | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

Am I Wrong for “Hiding” My MIL’s Birthday Present to My Husband after Finding Out What Was Inside?

Tired of allowing her cold and callous mother-in-law to ruin her husband’s birthday, Lila hides Carol’s birthday present from Bill to save him the hurt and disappointment that usually came with his mother’s gifts. But when Lila’s secret comes out, a series of events unfolds.

I could tell my husband, Bill, was nervous. His birthday was coming up, and every year, his mom’s gift felt like a slap in the face.

Bill sat on our worn-out couch, his shoulders tense.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Do you think she’ll actually care this time?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

I sighed, placing my hand on his. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I knew that I needed to reassure him, but my husband’s relationship with his mother was complicated.

“Maybe,” I said. “But remember, we’re celebrating your birthday, not hers. We’ll have a great time, no matter what, darling.”

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

A couple holding hands | Source: Midjourney

Bill smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I knew how much he wanted to feel loved and appreciated by Carol, but she always failed to show him that. It wasn’t just about the gifts. It was about the feeling.

Bill had told me the story a long time ago. He was his mother’s son from her first marriage, and their relationship was strong, but things took a turn when Carol met her second husband, Adam.

It became even worse when Bill’s younger brothers were born. Suddenly, Carol only had eyes for Adam and their sons, making it clear to Bill that he was no longer a priority in her life.

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

A mother and her sons | Source: Midjourney

“Okay,” he said. “This year will be different.”

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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