“My Mother Insists I Clean Her House Every Day, But I Have My Own Family to Care For”

I never imagined that at 32, I’d still be grappling with my mother’s demands. Six years into my marriage and with three young children to care for, I thought I’d be able to focus on my own family. But my mother has other plans.

Every morning, like clockwork, my phone rings. It’s my mother, her voice already tinged with frustration. “Why haven’t you come over yet? The house is a mess!” she exclaims. I try to explain that I have my own household to manage, but she doesn’t want to hear it.

My youngest child, Emma, is only two years old and not yet in preschool. My days are filled with diaper changes, meal preparations, and trying to keep up with the endless energy of a toddler. My older two children, Jake and Lily, are in elementary school, but they still need help with homework and extracurricular activities. My husband works long hours, so most of the household responsibilities fall on me.

Despite all this, my mother expects me to drop everything and tend to her needs. She lives alone in the house I grew up in, and while I understand she might be lonely, her demands are unreasonable. She insists that I clean her house every day, do her grocery shopping, and even cook her meals.

When I try to set boundaries, she becomes emotional. She cries on the phone, accusing me of abandoning her. “You don’t care about me anymore,” she sobs. “You only think about yourself.” Her words cut deep, filling me with guilt. But what about my own family? Don’t they deserve my attention too?

The constant pressure is taking a toll on me. I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. My husband tries to help where he can, but he doesn’t understand the full extent of my mother’s demands. He suggests hiring a cleaner for her, but my mother refuses. “I don’t want a stranger in my house,” she says. “I want you.”

I’ve tried talking to her about finding other ways to stay connected. I suggested weekly visits or video calls, but she dismisses these ideas. “It’s not the same,” she insists. “I need you here with me.”

The situation reached a breaking point last week. I was running late to pick up Jake and Lily from school because I had spent the morning cleaning my mother’s house. When I finally arrived, they were the last kids waiting, their faces filled with worry. That night, as I tucked them into bed, Jake asked me why I was always at Grandma’s house. His question broke my heart.

I realized then that something had to change. But how? My mother won’t listen to reason, and the guilt of not being there for her is overwhelming. Yet, I can’t continue neglecting my own family.

I’ve started seeing a therapist to help me navigate this difficult situation. She suggested setting firmer boundaries and sticking to them, no matter how much my mother protests. It’s easier said than done.

Yesterday, I told my mother that I wouldn’t be able to come over every day anymore. Her reaction was as expected—tears and accusations. “You’re abandoning me,” she cried. “How can you do this to your own mother?”

I don’t have an answer for her. All I know is that I’m trying to do what’s best for my family and myself. But the guilt lingers, a constant companion.

As I write this, I’m filled with uncertainty about the future. Will my mother ever understand? Will she ever accept that I have my own life to live? Or will I always be torn between my responsibilities as a daughter and as a mother?

For now, all I can do is take it one day at a time and hope that someday, things will get better.