My Mom Expected Me to Babysit Five Kids All Christmas Week — So I Adjusted My Plans. Her Reaction Was: “Wait… What?”

Growing up, if someone in our extended family needed a last-minute babysitter for any reason, it was always me who got volunteered. When my high school classmates had parties on Friday nights, I was the one stuck at home with a screaming toddler cousin while my mother cheerfully told everyone how responsible and mature I was. When my college roommates planned spontaneous weekend trips, I was the one who couldn’t go because a sibling had an emergency and my mother had already volunteered my services without bothering to ask if I had any conflicting plans or, heaven forbid, any desire to live my own life.

“Mom, it’s really not about whether I love the kids,” I said, my throat tight with all the things I wanted to say but had spent years swallowing. “It’s about the fact that nobody ever asks if I’m okay with these arrangements. It’s just automatically assumed that I’ll drop everything and rearrange my entire life, and then I’m made to feel guilty if I even hesitate.”