15October2025
Dear Diary,
The phone jolted me awake with a harsh ring. The display read Eleanor Smith. This was the third call from my motherinlaw that morning. I took a deep breath, steadied myself and pressed the green answer button.
Hello, Eleanor, Im listening, I said.
Emily, why arent you answering? Ive been calling all morning! Her voice was edged with reproach. Im calling, Im calling!
I was making porridge for Poppy, my hands were busy, I replied, though the truth was I simply didnt want another lecture about my parenting.
More porridge! I told you children need meat. My son James grew up on steak and is sturdy as an oak. Your Poppy looks paleshell be blown away by a gust if you dont change that, she scolded.
I closed my eyes and counted to five. Poppy is only three, and the paediatrician has confirmed shes developing normally; her slight frame is simply a family trait from my side.
Eleanor, we do give her meat as well. Tonight shell have meatballs for lunch, I managed.
Good! Thats why Im calling. Ill pop over later with some chicken broth, bonerich like James likes, and Ill make my special cutlet recipe. No more of your meatballs she added, the sarcasm thinly veiled.
I forced a smile. Dont worry, we have everything we need.
Any trouble? Grandmother just wants to see her grandchild, she pressed. You wont refuse, will you?
Her question left no room for a no without sounding rude. Of course, youre welcome.
When the call ended I pressed my forehead to the cool windowpane. Snowflakes drifted past, settling on bare branches. November had turned bleak and damp.
What, Mum? Poppy peeked from her bedroom, clutching a wellworn stuffed rabbit.
Grandma Eleanor is coming today, I said, trying to sound cheerful.
Will she complain again about my eating? she frowned.
My heart tightened. Even the little one sensed the constant criticism.
Grandma loves you very much and just wants you strong and healthy, I replied. Her eyes narrowed a bit, but she nodded and returned to her toys.
I set about cleaning. Although James and I prefer a creative mess, the flat had to sparkle for Eleanors visitotherwise shed surely remark that a house like this will breed germs. In two hours I swept the floors, dusted the surfaces, and baked an apple crumblethe one recipe Eleanor always praised.
James was due back from work around lunchtime. Both of us work from homehes a software developer, Im a graphic designerbut today he had an offsite client meeting, so he left the house.
Exactly at two oclock the doorbell rang. Eleanor was punctual as a Swiss watch.
Well, look whos here, my new bride! she announced, a short, plump woman with chestnutcoloured hair, laden with bags. Wheres my little princess?
Poppy timidly peered out of her room.
Come here, sweetheart! Grandma has brought treats! I coaxed her forward. The girl extended her hand for a kiss, a habit Eleanor insisted on, believing girls should grow up as proper ladies.
Only grownup girls get kisses, love, Eleanor declared, embracing Poppy. When youre sixteen, youll be offering your hand to suitors. Grandmother just expects a hello.
I rolled my eyes beneath the table, keeping my sarcasm hidden. The contradictions in Eleanors advice were endless.
May I help with the bags? I offered.
Yes, bring them to the kitchen. Ive prepared a lot. James needs a proper diet, not random scraps, she replied, already taking charge.
Emily, fetch a big pot. Not that plastic oneuse a proper metal one. And wheres your bread? Do you keep it in the fridge? Thatll make it stale! she instructed, rattling off orders.
I complied, handing over the requested items. Over six years of marriage Id learned to expect Eleanors unsolicited expertise.
Poppy looks a bit wan, she observed, arranging jars of pickles on the counter. Do you take her out? Give her vitamins?
Yes, we walk daily if the weather allows, and we give her the supplement the doctor prescribed, I answered.
Doctors! What do those young fellows know? In my day she scoffed, launching into a nostalgic tirade about how children used to spend all day outdoors, how shed take James out in any weather, and how that made him robust.
I held my tongue, though I could have reminded her that James had spent several winters battling bronchitis and chronic tonsillitis as a child.
Ive baked a crumble. Care for some tea? I asked.
First lunch, then tea. Everything in order, she said, scanning the hallway for James. Wheres he? Hes not here yet.
The hallway lock clicked, and James appeared, surprised by a pile of shoes by the door.
Mum? Why didnt you tell me you were coming? he asked.
Tell Emily this morning! Eleanor retorted, clearly irritated that I hadnt pinged James about the visit.
James gave me a guilty smile; Id forgotten to send him a reminder.
Hey, mum, he said, hugging Eleanor. How are you feeling?
Blood pressures up, my legs swell by evening, but I dont complain. We manage ourselves, dont bother anyone, she replied, a familiar refrain that always preceded a litany of ailments.
He set the kettle on the stove, ready to warm up the meal.
During lunch Eleanor reminisced about Jamess childhood, bragging how he could read at four and recite poems. Poppy, do you learn poems? she asked.
Poppy poked at her food with a fork, silent.
She knows a lot of verses, I interjected. Poppy, tell Grandma about the bear.
I dont want to, she muttered, frowning.
Eleanor seized the moment. See, James? This child is too shy. She needs a nursery, more playmates.
Dad, weve agreed to wait until shes four before enrolling her, James said calmly. No need to rush her development.
Rushed? I sent my son to school at two and he turned out fine! Your little one is a fragile bird, Eleanor snapped. She doesnt eat much, never finishes her meals.
May I go play now? Poppy asked.
No, finish your cutlet first, Eleanor ordered.
Eat your cutlet, sunshine, I coaxed, though my stomach twisted.
She finally managed a bite, and Eleanor nodded approvingly. Much better. Youre spoiling her, letting her have anything she wants. A child needs routine and discipline. When I raised James
Her monologue of past parenting continued unabated.
After lunch Eleanor insisted Poppy take a nap. Children must nap in the afternoon! Its essential for a proper schedule, she declared.
I wanted to protest that Poppy hadnt napped in ages and would stay up late if forced, but James shook his head. Better to agree than argue, he whispered.
While Eleanor tried to lull Poppy, I brewed tea and sliced the crumble.
Useless, she returned half an hour later, sighing, Shes already escaped my grasp. In our day, kids obeyed.
I almost blurted, In your day you even beat children for misbehaviour, but held my tongue.
Shes just not tired yet, James soothed. Come on, dear, have a slice. I made it especially for you.
Eleanor examined the piece warily. I hope there are no artificial additives. Those store mixes are terrible.
Its all naturalflour, eggs, apples from the garden you gave us, I assured her. That seemed to soften her stance.
She reminisced about my early days of marriage, when I supposedly couldnt even fry an egg.
I stayed quiet, though I could have reminded her that Id been on my own for a decade before we met and was a competent cookjust not in the way she expected.
James, Eleanor turned to my son, could you pop over next week? The bathroom tap is leaking, and the pantry lights out. Im afraid to climb a ladder.
Sure, Mum, James said apologetically. Wednesday works?
I have Nina visiting on Wednesday maybe Tuesday? she suggested.
I have an important client meeting Tuesday, James protested.
Fine, Ill just sit with my leaky tap then, she sighed, Its not the first time.
I pressed my lips together, feeling the familiar sting of passiveaggressive pressure.
I can go with you, check the tap, James offered, trying to ease the tension.
Eleanors face brightened. Great! And while youre at it, look at the hallway wallpaper. Its five years old, quite drab.
Wheres Poppy playing? I asked suddenly.
In her room, looking at books. I told her not to scatter her toys, Eleanor replied.
I peeked into the nursery and froze. Poppy was carefully cutting out pictures from a brandnew picture book wed just ordered online.
Poppy! What are you doing? I exclaimed.
She looked up, unashamed. Grandma said I could cut pictures and make an album. She gave me scissors.
I stared at the ruined booka costly, illustrated edition wed been excited to read.
Poppy, thats a brandnew book! We just started it yesterday! I said, tears welling in her eyes.
She hiccuped, Grandma said
I took a deep breath, steadied myself. Its all right, love. Next time, ask mum or dad first, okay?
She nodded and clung to me. I returned to the kitchen, where Eleanor was animatedly recounting a neighbours drama on the fifth floor.
Eleanor, I interrupted calmly, did you give Poppy the scissors?
Yes, why not? Kids should learn handiwork. We used to glue and cut all the time. Now theyre glued to phones.
But she ruined the book we ordered, I replied, trying not to sound angry.
The books just paper, she waved dismissively. Shell have a lovely album.
It was an expensive book, I said, fighting my temper.
The books fine. Creativity matters, she retorted.
James tried to mediate. Mum, could you have asked us first? he said gently.
Ah, so I must ask permission to play with my own grandchild? Who am I here, an intruder? Eleanor snapped.
No one talks like that, James tried to calm her.
Thats exactly what they say! she shouted, standing up. Im extra here. I come, I cook, and all I get are criticisms!
Eleanor, I rose as well, no one is criticizing you. There are just boundaries.
Boundaries? she scoffed. What boundaries between a grandmother and a grandchild? I raised James alone! I know how to bring up kids, unlike some who cant even make a decent lunch!
Enough! James raised his voice. Stop this right now!
Silence fell. Poppy peeked out, eyes wide. Grandma is shouting, she whispered.
Eleanor instantly softened. Come here, my darling. Grandma isnt shouting, just adult talk. Lets finish our album together, alright?
No, I said firmly. No more cutting books. Poppy will go watch a cartoon with Dad, and well have a word, Eleanor.
Eleanor tried to protest, but James already held Poppys hand.
Lets go, princess, and watch Frozen?
They left, and I offered Eleanor a seat.
Eleanor, I know you love Poppy and want the best for her. James and I have our own parenting style, and we ask you to respect it.
So I should stay silent when I see someone raising a child the wrong way? she asked, her lips pursed.
You can suggest, you can advise, but you cant make decisions for us. And please, dont tell Poppy she can do things we normally forbidlike cutting books, napping, or sweets before lunch.
What, I shouldnt spoil my granddaughter? Whats the point of grandmothers then? she queried.
I sighed. We were speaking different languages.
Spoiling is fine in moderation, but always discuss it with us first.
She pursed her lips and began packing her bags.
If thats how it is, Ill leave. Theres nothing for me here if I cant even talk to my granddaughter properly.
Dont dramatise it, I said wearily. Just… lets try to respect each other.
Thirty years teaching, raising my son alone, and now I must ask permission to let my granddaughter cut pictures! she muttered, pulling on her coat.
James emerged from the hallway, hearing the commotion.
Mum, youre leaving? he asked.
Yes, son. Your wife doesnt like how I play with Poppy, she replied.
Dont start, Mum, James said, grimacing. Let me walk you out and check the tap?
A faint smile appeared on Eleanors face. If its not too much bring a screwdriver; the cupboard hinge is squeaking.
When they left, I collapsed onto the sofa. Poppy climbed onto my lap, clutching my shirt.
Mum, I wont cut books again, she promised earnestly. I didnt know it was wrong.
Of course, love, I soothed, hugging her. Youre not at fault. Just ask your grandma or us next time, okay?
She nodded and snuggled closer.
James returned about an hour and a half later, tired but smiling.
The taps fixed, the lights working, the cupboards tightened. Grandma sends her apologies and says shell stay out of the parenting side of things.
And I should believe that? I teased.
He laughed, pulling me into a hug. No, but at least well have a breather for a week.
We shared a laugh. Perhaps one day our relationship with Eleanor will smooth out, or perhaps not. For now we have our little family, our home, our rules, and well defend them no matter what.
Lesson learned: love can be tangled with overinvolvement, but setting clear boundaries protects the ones you cherish most.
