Are you trying to set up your own little nursery? Just how many children are you planning to have? My husbands mother, Mrs. Margaret Wilkinson, asked in her usual condescending tone this morning.
Morning to you, too, Mrs. Wilkinson! Please, lets keep it civil, I replied, doing my best to stay polite. I hear from William youre expecting again, and frankly, I think its rather much, she sniffed.
Were quite aware, thank you, but you know, nature has a way of making her own choices, I answered as calmly as I could manage.
Oh, dont start being clever with me, Emily! I distinctly recall asking you after the third for heaven’s sake, to give it a rest. I even bought you a big box of those… things for Christmas, did I not? But, no, you carry on, she muttered, louder now.
I honestly couldnt help but recall New Years Eve, when Mrs. Wilkinson had slipped that enormous box of condoms into my hand, right in the middle of Henrys birthday tea. It couldnt have been more embarrassing! The hint was fairly clear: stop having babies. All the while, the children were running around, blissfully unaware.
Mum, we appreciate your concern and your gift, but really, William and I will manage I tried to reassure her.
Well then, youll just have to take care of them all by yourself dont expect me to run around after another one! she snapped. I barely got out, Thats hardly before she hung up with a clatter.
I let out a sigh, tossed my mobile onto the bed and couldnt help but smile a little, patting my stomach that, so far, shows no signs of a bump. This fourth pregnancy is whats ruffling Mrs. Wilkinsons feathers. I just cant fathom why the news of another grandchild would shake her up so.
Shes never exactly been hands-on with the children not really that sort of granny. She pops by for a cup of tea maybe once a month, drops off a gift every Christmas or birthday, but thats about it. Shes always had the means she once told me herself shes very comfortable but apparently no urge to treat her grandchildren to even a bag of sweets at the corner shop. It irks me, if Im honest, but Ive never said so to anyone, not even William. My children are warm, well-fed, and clothed, and thats the main thing.
William brings home a good wage, and I do bits of freelance admin work from home. When I started earning a little more, we arranged for a lovely girl from the village Anna to help out, taking the wee ones to the playground or out for walks so I could actually get some work done in peace.
Were a happy family on the whole. But Mrs. Wilkinsons constant barbs manage to sour even the sunniest days. She never liked me from the start, and once the little ones started appearing thick and fast, her feelings only hardened.
She especially made her feelings clear when our third, Charlotte, was on the way. Mrs. Wilkinson even suggested I sort it out, implying I shouldnt go through with it. Yet, in time she softened to little Lottie, and things were just beginning to settle, when I found out I was pregnant again. This one wasnt necessarily planned, butthere it is. Weve always believed that if were blessed, well give the child a good life.
Somehow, I know her biggest worry is financial. She relies on William to top up her account fairly regularly, and with a fourth childs arrival, shes worried her pound notes will go elsewhere. Weve already closed down her old village shop after she couldnt keep up with it.
Truthfully, Ive never minded William helping his mother, as long as our children have everything they need. Were comfortable enough, so I even nudge William to do those good son deeds: tidying up her garden, paying for her new boiler, organising a weekend at the seaside for her last summer.
But if her concern is really about her purse, then nothing I do (or dont do) will ever satisfy her. Her endless comments and criticisms are enough to drive any expectant mum round the bend.
Of course, nothing she says will change our decision. William and I have decided as a family: were keeping our fourth baby, and thats final. Sometimes I wonder why does she think she has a right to dictate how many children we have? Its our family, after all, not hers.
