It’s all or nothing: either you babysit every one, or you don’t babysit at all.

I gripped the phone, trying to explain my feelings. “Mason is my grandson, but Ellie and Jamal already have a grandma.” Clara’s gentle voice made her next words even harder to hear: “They’re part of the family now. To me. To Mason. And if you can’t see that… maybe we need to rethink things.”

I asked for time to consider her perspective. Hanging up, I sat quietly, reflecting on the boundaries I had drawn.

Mason had just turned five. Our bond was precious, built from baking cookies, bedtime stories, and snowy winter adventures. But the other children were new, unfamiliar, and not mine. Darren was wonderful—kind, loving, and steady—but these kids felt like strangers in my heart.

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