Martha made it her mission to ensure her daughter’s success: numerous classes, a violin teacher, and daily chores. Martha was certain that all of it would help Ellie find happiness. But after participating in a “Best Mother” contest with her neighbors, she realized what being a mother truly meant.
Martha and her cheerful neighbor Jen strolled up the pathway to Lois’s house, the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass mingling with the floral perfume wafting from Lois’s garden.
As the door swung open, there stood Lois, her impeccably styled hair and tailored outfit a testament to her attention to detail.
“Welcome, ladies,” Lois greeted them with a smile that hinted at smugness. She grandly gestured for them to enter.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Come in, come in.”
Jen, ever the social butterfly, stepped in first. “Wow, Lois, your home looks stunning as always!” she said, her tone warm and genuine.
“I can’t wait to hear what’s new with you.”
Martha followed, already feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. For her, stepping into Lois’s house wasn’t just a visit — it was entering enemy territory.
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Lois wasn’t just a neighbor; she was Martha’s unspoken rival, someone who always seemed to flaunt her accomplishments.
Lois led them into the living room, a space that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a magazine. Every piece of furniture was perfectly coordinated, and the room practically sparkled.
“Let me show you something,” Lois said, her voice dripping with pride. She motioned to a set of plants lining the windowsill.
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“These are imported from Italy. Aren’t they divine? They really bring a sense of elegance to the room.”
“Oh, they’re gorgeous!” Jen said, leaning in for a closer look. “You have such a knack for decorating, Lois.”
Martha, however, merely nodded, forcing a tight smile. To her, this wasn’t about plants — it was Lois reminding everyone how much better she was.
The tightness in Martha’s jaw betrayed her efforts to stay calm.
“And look at this,” Lois continued, picking up a delicate tea set from the table.
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“It’s made from a rare ceramic. Took weeks to arrive, but it was worth it, don’t you think?”
Jen clapped her hands together.
“Beautiful! You really know how to choose the best.”
As the women settled into their chairs, Jen suddenly lit up with an idea.
“You know what we should do? Let’s have a little contest this weekend — a ‘Best Mom’ competition!”
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Lois raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Yeah!” Jen said, her excitement growing.
“Each of us can cook a dish, show off our homes, and have our kids perform something. It’ll be fun! A little family-friendly rivalry never hurt anyone.”
While Jen imagined a fun, lighthearted event, Martha and Lois exchanged glances.
To them, this was more than a casual game — it was a chance to prove who was better. Both women nodded without hesitation, their competitive spirits igniting.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Sounds perfect,” Lois said, her tone sharp and confident.
“I’m in,” Martha added, determined not to be outdone.
Jen clapped her hands together.
“This will be so much fun!” she exclaimed, oblivious to the subtle tension simmering between her neighbors.
Back home, Martha stood in the kitchen, her mind already racing with ideas for the competition.
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She called out sharply, “Ellie! Come here, please!” Her voice echoed through the house, urgency clear in her tone.
Ellie appeared moments later, her hair slightly messy from playing outside. “What’s up, Mom?” she asked, her cheerful demeanor lighting up the room.
Martha wasted no time.
“This weekend, we’re participating in a competition with Lois and Jen — a ‘Best Mom’ contest. We need to give it everything we’ve got. Our family’s reputation is on the line.”
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Ellie’s smile faltered slightly, sensing the weight in her mother’s voice. But she nodded quickly, her usual optimism kicking in.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t let you down. I’ll do my best.”
Martha gave her a brisk nod. “Good. Let’s get started.”
They dove into the first task: cooking. Martha had decided on her famous apple pie, a recipe she knew could impress.
She meticulously instructed Ellie; from peeling the apples to mixing the dough.
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“No, not like that,” Martha corrected when Ellie tried rolling out the crust. “It needs to be perfect.”
Ellie smiled nervously and adjusted her technique. “Got it, Mom.”
Despite the sharpness in Martha’s tone, Ellie didn’t complain. She softly hummed as she worked, trying to stay positive.
The kitchen smelled heavenly as the pie baked, its golden crust a testament to their hard work.
Next, Martha dragged Ellie outside to inspect the lawn.
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“We can’t have a single weed or blade of grass out of place,” she declared, bending down to straighten a flower. They worked side by side, ensuring every detail was flawless.
Finally, they moved to Ellie’s room to rehearse her violin performance. Ellie set up her sheet music, her fingers slightly trembling as she began to play.
Halfway through, she stumbled on a note, her nerves taking over.
“Ellie, focus!” Martha snapped, her frustration clear. “You need to get this right.”
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Ellie’s cheeks reddened, and she swallowed hard.
“I will, Mom. Let me try again.”
As she lifted the bow to the strings, the pressure in the room felt almost tangible.
Ellie pushed forward, determined to meet her mother’s expectations, even as the weight of it all began to build.
The day of the competition dawned bright and chilly. Neighbors gathered in the crisp morning air, chatting excitedly as the three contestants prepared for their first challenge.
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Martha stood near her table, carefully arranging her apple pie on a decorative platter.
Nearby, Jen cheerfully set out her mac and cheese, and Lois placed her lasagna with an air of confidence that made Martha’s jaw tighten.
Nigel, the elderly man appointed judge from across the street, shuffled forward to begin the tasting.
His reputation for fairness and thoughtful opinions made him the perfect choice. He picked up his fork with a kind smile and approached Jen’s dish.
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“Mac and cheese,” he remarked, taking a bite. Jen’s sons watched with wide, eager eyes as he chewed thoughtfully. Finally, he smiled warmly.
“Simple but comforting. Well done.”
Jen grinned, clearly pleased. “Thank you, Nigel!”
Next, Nigel turned to Martha’s apple pie. Martha clasped her hands tightly, her stomach churning with nerves as he sliced into the golden crust. He took a bite, his face betraying nothing as he chewed.
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Then, with a small nod of approval, he said, “Lovely balance of flavors. A classic done right.”
Martha exhaled in relief, allowing herself a small smile. But that relief was short-lived as Nigel moved to Lois’s table.
Her lasagna, perfectly layered with bubbling cheese and a rich tomato sauce, looked straight out of a cooking show.
Nigel took one bite, then another, and another, finishing the entire serving.
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“Well,” he said with a chuckle, wiping his mouth. “This lasagna is exceptional. The first point goes to Lois.”
Lois beamed while Martha’s face fell.
“It’s just one round,” she muttered under her breath, trying to stay composed. She quickly urged Nigel to begin the next stage.
Nigel moved from house to house, inspecting the exteriors.
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Jen’s home was charming, with bright flowers in simple pots, but Nigel seemed more impressed by Martha’s perfectly manicured lawn and vibrant flower beds.
“This is beautiful,” he declared, awarding Martha the point for the best exterior. Martha felt a rush of satisfaction as Lois’s expression soured.
Finally, it was time for the last round: the children’s performances. Pam, Lois’s daughter, was first.
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She stepped forward confidently to sing but faltered midway, her voice cracking. Her face flushed, and she ran off, refusing to continue.
Martha smirked, feeling her chances of winning improve.
Next, Jen’s sons performed. Their dance routine was unpolished, but their playful energy and heartfelt song about their mom touched the audience.
“She’s our superhero,” they sang, drawing smiles and applause.
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As the boys finished, Martha realized Ellie was nowhere to be seen. Her confidence wavered.
“Go get her,” Nigel said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t have all day.”
Panicked, Martha rushed back to the house, her heart pounding. Something was wrong, and she needed to find Ellie fast.
Reaching Ellie’s room, Martha paused outside the door, hearing muffled sobs from within. Her heart sank.
Ellie was always cheerful, her laughter lighting up even the gloomiest days. Hearing her cry was like a punch to Martha’s chest.
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She hesitated, unsure how to approach her daughter, then gently knocked and opened the door.
Ellie spun around, hastily wiping her eyes. Her face was red, and her hands trembled as she tried to shove something into her desk drawer.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Martha asked, her tone soft and concerned — a stark contrast to her usual commanding voice.
Ellie forced a shaky smile. “It’s nothing, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll win. I promise to make you proud.”
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Her voice wavered as she spoke, but before Martha could say anything, Ellie grabbed her violin and bolted past her.
Martha stood frozen for a moment, staring at the desk. Something didn’t feel right.
Glancing toward the hallway, she hesitated. Part of her knew she should respect
Ellie’s privacy, but another part — her instincts as a mother — told her to look. Slowly, she opened the drawer and found Ellie’s diary.
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Her hands trembled as she flipped through the pages, the last entries smudged with tear stains. The most recent page caught her eye. As she read the words, her heart broke:
“Today, I can’t fail. I have to be perfect. Mom is counting on me, and I know I can do it. But why am I so scared? I’ve played this piece perfectly before, so why do I keep messing up now? Please, let everything go right. I want Mom to be proud of me. I want her to love me. I can’t lose…”
Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes. She had never realized how much pressure she had put on Ellie — not for Ellie’s sake, but for her own pride.
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Ellie wasn’t trying to succeed for herself; she was doing it to win her mother’s love and approval.
Placing the diary back carefully, Martha rushed outside. Ellie was standing by the stage, gripping her violin tightly, her knuckles white.
Her eyes darted nervously across the crowd.
Martha ran to her without a second thought, pulling her into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry, Ellie,” Martha whispered, her voice breaking. “You don’t have to do anything. You don’t have to prove anything. I already love you, and I’m so proud of you — no matter what.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ellie froze for a moment, then relaxed into her mother’s arms. Her tears spilled over, but this time, they were tears of relief. “Thank you, Mom,” she whispered.
Back on stage, Nigel smiled kindly as he announced that the points would be shared evenly, declaring all three mothers winners.
Jen clapped enthusiastically, her joy infecting the crowd. “This was so much fun!” she exclaimed.
Martha turned to Jen, her eyes filled with gratitude. “Thank you for helping me see what being a great mom truly means.”
Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.
If you enjoyed this story, read this one: As good friends often do, Lisa and Lora decided to show their support and took Emma to a ski resort for Christmas to help her forget about her recent breakup. However, veering off the trail with Sam made her realize that this Christmas wouldn’t go as planned. Read the full story here.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
I Took My Grandchildren to Disney World and Now My Dil Is Mad at Me
When my son, Ethan, set up this account for me and insisted I share my recent dilemma, I was skeptical. According to him, my understanding of what’s normal and acceptable has always been a bit off-kilter.
He was convinced that once my story hit the internet, a wave of virtual finger-wagging would set me straight. So here I am, recounting the tale that led to my current status as the family pariah, all because I took my grandkids to Disney World.
A grandmother greeting her grandson | Source: Getty Images
Ethan and his wife, Sarah, had been planning to attend a friend’s wedding in Mexico. It was supposed to be a chance for them to unwind without their kids. While they were away, they wanted me to babysit their children, Lily, 5, and Jack, 4, for what would be a stretch of four nights and five days. Initially, I laughed at the idea.
Not only did it seem like a marathon of caregiving, but Sarah had previously made it clear that her family took precedence over ours. The notion didn’t sit well with me, and I found it particularly irksome that they would ask me, despite her mother being the apparent go-to for such favors.
Two siblings playing together | Source: Getty Images
However, Ethan’s emotional plea swayed me. He argued that it was a rare opportunity for them, a plea that tugged at my heartstrings, even as a voice in the back of my mind accused them of manipulation. I was supposed to be there for the kids whenever they wanted, apparently. But, I agreed.
During their absence, an invitation to a birthday party at Disney World came my way. It seemed like a splendid opportunity to do something special with the grandkids, and it honestly didn’t cross my mind to consult Ethan and Sarah. I thought, since I was the one looking after them at the moment, I could take them wherever I wanted, within reason, of course.
A grandmother with her grandson | Source: Getty Images
In my defense, Sarah often talked about taking the kids to Disney “some day,” but it always seemed like one of those far-off dreams, not an imminent plan. It was the Magic Kingdom. I had to take the kids. Seeing how Sarah’s plan to take them was probably years away, I knew I had to show them around the place. And what better time than while their parents were away?
The trip wasn’t too bad and we had a great time. I honestly felt like I was truly bonding with the kids. They tried almost every ride they could go on, we took photos with every costumed hero and princess, and they had bucketloads of treats. It truly was a magical time.
Upon their return, I was blindsided by Sarah’s reaction. The news that I had taken Lily and Jack to Disney was met with tears and accusations. She was devastated, claiming I had robbed her of a milestone — witnessing their first Disney experience. Her words stung, branding me as entitled, which only poured salt on the wound given her past demands for childcare.
A girl and her grandmother at Disney World | Source: Getty Images
Ethan, ever the mediator, asked me to apologize, to mend fences over what he deemed a significant oversight on my part. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. The bitterness of being labeled as entitled, coupled with their disregard for my initial reluctance, hardened my resolve. I saw no reason to apologize for enjoying a day out with my grandchildren, especially when the decision to babysit had been a concession on my part.
The fallout was immediate. Ethan insisted that an apology was necessary, not just for the sake of peace, but because Sarah felt robbed of a precious moment. To them, my actions were thoughtless, a blunder that eclipsed the joy of the birthday celebration. But to me, it highlighted a deeper issue, a lack of appreciation and respect for my boundaries.
An angry woman | Source: Getty Images
Our standoff has since grown into a chasm, with Ethan hoping that sharing this story would enlighten me to my supposed misstep. Yet, as I lay all this out, I find myself grappling with the complexity of family dynamics, the expectations we place on each other, and the weight of decisions made with the best intentions.
I can’t help but wonder if the issue at hand is not just about a trip to Disney, but something more. Perhaps it’s about understanding, communication, and the unforeseen impact of our actions on those we love. Or maybe it’s about the boundaries we draw and the spaces we navigate as family, where the lines between right and wrong blur in the face of love and responsibility.
An older woman fighting with her son | Source: Getty Images
As I share this tale, I realize that my son’s prediction might come true. The court of public opinion may indeed find me at fault. But more than seeking others who would tell me that I wasn’t in the wrong, I find myself reflecting on the intricacies of human relationships, the mistakes we make, and the lessons we learn along the way.
I realize that I could have let the parents know that I was taking their kids to Disneyland. I see how I robbed them and their mom of a bonding experience, but I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to get closer to my grandkids. Maybe this will blow over, but in the meantime, I have to reflect on my actions.
A woman asking advice online | Source: Getty Images
In the end, maybe Ethan is right. Perhaps the internet will deem me the villain of this story. But as I think about the events that unfolded, I can’t help but hope for a resolution that bridges the gap between us, one that acknowledges the complexity of our feelings and fosters a deeper understanding among us. I seriously hope my son, his wife, and I can overcome this. But in the meantime I really want to know: Do you think I was wrong?
Here’s another story about a grandmother who was given strict rules when babysitting her grandkids.
My DIL Handed Me a Humiliating List of Rules for My Grandkids, So I Taught Her a Lesson
I’m a doting grandmother. I love spending time with my grandkids. Even before I became a mom, I couldn’t wait to be a grandmother!
But then this happened, and things took an unexpected turn.
My son, Michael, his wife, Linda, and their three children live about thirty minutes away from me. Michael is constantly popping by with the kids on Sunday afternoons. Ice cream and pool time at Grandma’s has become a norm.
Three children looking at a tablet | Source: Pexels
Recently, Michael and Linda asked me to babysit the kids for a weekend while they visit Linda’s ill mother. It made sense because I knew that Linda’s mother was battling cancer, and the thought of having my three grandkids run around her home just made me anxious for her part. She needed peace and time to recover from her chemotherapy — Michael told me that she recently started it.
Anyway, it seemed like a simple request, right?
I agree.
Chemotherapy IV bags | Source: Pixabay
That was until Linda came over two days before they were scheduled to leave for their visit. She popped in during her lunch break to hand me a list of rules.
“These are important to Mike and me,” Linda said, leaving the envelope with the instructions on the table.
Rules to look after my grandchildren?
At first, I wasn’t angry because I knew all parents do things differently. But as I sat down with a cup of tea and read through them, I was utterly stunned.
Person opening an envelope | Source: Pexels
The first rule was a real kicker — no touching their fridge for myself. The refrigerator was off-limits for me, and I was instructed to take my own food.
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