When my daughter asked me to babysit the twins three days a week, I hesitated. Not because I don’t love them — I do. But I’m 66. I’ve raised three kids, worked for decades, and dreamed of peaceful days — gardening, traveling, sleeping in.
Saying no wasn’t easy. My daughter was shocked. “You’re their grandma,” she said. “Don’t you want to spend time with them?” But I realized this wasn’t about love. It was about expectation — that because I’m retired, I’m always available.
I wasn’t refusing my grandkids — I was saying yes to myself. To boundaries. To rest. Now, I see the twins on my terms: ice cream Sundays, occasional sleepovers, joy without exhaustion.
Some friends don’t understand. One watches her grandson five days a week, burnt out and unthanked, afraid to say no. We need to change this.
Grandmas aren’t built-in daycare. Saying no doesn’t mean we don’t love — it means we respect ourselves. I’m a grandma, not a free nanny. I’ve earned my freedom.
