My Mother-in-Law Paid Another Woman to Raise Her Kids. The Way She Talks About It Now Disgusts Me.

My Mother-in-Law Paid Another Woman to Raise Her Kids. The Way She Talks About It Now Disgusts Me.

Good Job Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by AaronAmat/Getty Images Plus. Good Job is Slate’s advice column on work. Have a workplace problem big or small? Send it to Laura Helmuth and Doree Shafrir here. (It’s anonymous!) Dear Good Job, I’m married to “Beau,” whose family is very wealthy. Beau and his two siblings were raised primarily by his mom, “Bunny,” and a nanny, “Maria.” Maria didn’t have a partner or kids, and she lived with the family and stayed on as housekeeper when the youngest left for college. Maria died a few years ago, when my only child, “Mateo,” who is now 7, was too young to remember her. But I had the privilege of knowing Maria for 10 years. And I like to think we had a pretty honest relationship, both because of our shared language (I’m the only “kid” who speaks Spanish) and because of our similar backgrounds. For my whole childhood, my mom worked as a nanny for a boy (“Danny”) who is about the same age as me. This was a mixed bag. On one hand, she was paid pretty fairly, and me and my sister were often taken along on vacations we could not ever have experienced otherwise. Danny was always friendly to us and has stayed a part of my mom’s life. We still see each other around the holidays, and he even paid for some expensive medical care recently when a family member had an emergency. I know my mom loves Danny. On the other hand, Danny’s parents suck. His mom is an entitled princess who frequently tried to guilt my mom into working on days off, and his dad was openly racist. My mom is always gracious about them to Danny, but I know she thinks they’re shitty people (frankly, I think Danny’s only OK thanks to my mom’s influence). I was resentful as a kid of how much real estate their family took up in our lives. I mention all this because I know it impacts how I’m seeing the current situation. Because the problem now is that Bunny talks about Maria like she was her BFF rather than her employee, and I hate the version of the past that Mateo is learning. Don’t get me wrong: Maria was a real parent to Beau and his siblings, maybe even more than Bunny. I know she loved them like her own (and they loved her in return). I think Bunny loved Maria, too, but I know Maria found Bunny exhausting and went to a lot of trouble to cater to her because it was her job to do so. During the time I knew her, Maria was basically Bunny’s paid companion-slash-personal-assistant. She worked so hard, even in her 70s. She wanted to retire but couldn’t afford to (I know, because she told me). Mateo spends a lot of time with his grandma, and clearly believes that Nana Maria was just a cherished member of the family. I hate that the narrative he’s learning (which is tacitly enforced by my husband) totally erases Maria’s labor and the power dynamic between her and Bunny. I can’t tell if I’m making a big deal about nothing due to my own baggage, but it feels disrespectful to Maria’s memory. I don’t want domestic labor to be invisible or naturalized to Mateo, and the whole thing gives me the ick. How should I talk to Mateo about this, or should I keep my mouth shut? —Too Rich for My Blood Dear Too Rich for My Blood, This is such a tricky situation, and I want to acknowledge how much thought and care you’ve put into it, and that it’s clearly eating you up inside. So I want to gently suggest that how you’re thinking about this may need a slight reframe. First, yes, everything you’re saying about domestic labor and power dynamics is totally on point. It sounds like Maria’s labor has been erased and her role in the family has been sanitized. However, you also say that this narrative about Maria has been “tacitly enforced by my husband,” so I think that this is where you need to start. These ideas about power dynamics and capitalism are too abstract for a 7-year-old, and it’s also not fair to put Mateo in the middle of a disagreement between you and your husband’s family. So I would start with Beau, and really get into what you wrote here, including that you know you have this baggage because of your mom’s experience and your relationship with Danny. You have to bring this up with him and suss out where he lands on it. I would also like to offer that you have more agency here than you think. After all, you knew Maria for 10 years and had your own relationship with her. There’s nothing preventing you from sharing your own memories of Maria with Mateo and painting a richer, fuller picture of who she was. In the meantime, I hope your husband can come to better understand your point of view, and also offer his own gentle corrective to his mother’s seemingly revisionist history. —Doree Classic Prudie I’m having some major reservations about my boyfriend. We’ve been together for eight months and it is by far the healthiest relationship I’ve been in. Since about month 4, I thought he was going to be the one that I ended up with. I’m in my mid 30s and he’s in his early 40s. He told me about his teenage son fairly early in the relationship, but it wasn’t until recently that I found out his son is a major problem child. Never miss new Slate Advice columns Get the latest from Prudie and our columnists in your inbox each weekday, plus special bonus letters on Saturdays. Advice Workplace Jobs

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