— Kira, this is simply outrageous! The baby is already six months old, and you still carry her around like a crystal vase. At your age, I was already raising two kids, working, and managing a thirty-acre garden! — Berta Alexandrovna’s voice on the phone was, as always, categorical.
Kira took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Little Olya had just fallen asleep after a long rocking session, and the last thing the young mother wanted was to wake her up with a loud conversation.
— Berta Alexandrovna, I understand your concern about the garden, but Olya is still very small. She’s breastfeeding, and I can’t…
— Pump the milk! — her mother-in-law interrupted. — Find someone to leave the baby with and come to the dacha, I need your help. We have a big planting this weekend, and I can’t handle it alone. Nikolai won’t get much done with his back.
Kira looked at her sleeping daughter. She and Igor had waited so long for this child. They had been paying the mortgage for their small two-room apartment in a residential district for five years, postponing having a baby to get on their feet. And now that they finally had Olya, her mother-in-law was demanding she leave her to someone else and go dig the garden beds?
— Sorry, but I won’t be able to come. Maybe Igor and I can drop by for a couple of hours on Sunday, but…
She didn’t get to finish. Berta Alexandrovna hung up.
— What did you tell her? — Igor asked when he came home from work. He looked tired — the construction season had started at the company where he worked as an engineer, and the workload increased.
— I told her I couldn’t leave Olya. Your mother was very upset, — Kira rocked her daughter in her arms.
Igor frowned.
— Mom is just used to everyone jumping at her command. She taught at school for thirty years; the whole class was under her thumb. Now, in retirement, she has no one to boss around, so we get it.
— But your sister never refuses her, — Kira noted.
— Sofya and Pavel live five minutes from our parents, and they don’t have a small child. Of course, it’s easier for them.
Igor’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and sighed.
— Mom. Looks like she’s going to work on me now.
The weekend was approaching, and the tension was mounting. Caught between his wife and his mother, Igor suggested a compromise:
— Let’s go to the dacha as a family. We’ll spend the weekend there, I’ll help mom with the heavy work, you can be with Olya and help a little with light tasks. After all, our parents did a lot for us.
Kira looked at her husband doubtfully.
— Your mother will be unhappy that I’m not working full force.
— I’ll talk to her, — Igor promised. — I’ll explain that you have other priorities now.
Kira agreed, though her inner voice told her the trip wouldn’t bring anything good.
Berta Alexandrovna and Nikolai Petrovich’s dacha was a forty-minute drive from the city. Six hundred square meters were turned by the hardworking hostess into a model farm: neat beds, a greenhouse, fruit trees and bushes, even a small pond with goldfish — a special pride of the mother-in-law and envy of the neighbors.
When Igor parked the car by the gate, Berta Alexandrovna was already standing on the porch, arms crossed. Her short gray hair was neatly trimmed, and her face bore an expression of restrained displeasure.
— Finally, — she said instead of a greeting. — I thought you’d arrive by dinner.
— Mom, we left as soon as we could, — Igor hugged his mother. — Olya slept badly last night, and we had to wait until she ate and calmed down.
Berta Alexandrovna glanced at her daughter-in-law, who was taking a bag with baby things out of the car.
— When you were little, I adjusted the schedule to work, not work to the schedule.
Kira pretended not to hear the remark. She took the carrier with peacefully sleeping Olya and headed to the house.
— Hello, Berta Alexandrovna. We brought you some city treats.
The mother-in-law barely nodded and turned to her son.
— Tomorrow, we need to dig a big bed for potatoes and fix the fence on Anna Sergeyevna’s side. She complained again that our bushes shade her strawberries.
— We’ll do it, mom, — Igor nodded. — Where’s dad?
— He’s fiddling with the tools in the shed. With his back, he won’t get much done, so all hope is on you.
Kira went into the house, trying not to pay attention to the cold reception. The small room was clean and cozy. Nikolai Petrovich, unlike his domineering wife, had golden hands and was constantly improving the dacha house. Wooden shelves, carved window trims, comfortable furniture — all made by him.
Olya woke up and began to whimper. Kira took her in her arms and started rocking.
— You can put her on the couch while we eat, — Berta Alexandrovna said entering the house. — You’re not planning to hold her all the time, are you?
— She’s restless in new places, — Kira replied. — It’s better if I hold her a little.
The mother-in-law pressed her lips but stayed silent. She began setting plates with treats on the table.
— Igor, call your father. We’ll have dinner.
Dinner passed in a tense atmosphere. Nikolai Petrovich, a quiet and kind man, tried to ease the mood with stories about dacha neighbors, but his wife repeatedly made biting remarks about modern young mothers who “spoil their children too much.”
— In my time, children weren’t carried around for hours, — she said, watching Kira trying to soothe the whimpering Olya. — You put them in the crib; let them get used to independence.
— Mom, she’s only six months old, — Igor gently objected.
— So what? You were the same age when I returned to work. And nothing, you grew up normal.
— Times were different, — Nikolai Petrovich added. — Nowadays young parents pay more attention to their children, and that’s good.
Berta Alexandrovna gave her husband a dissatisfied look.
— Of course, you’re always on the side of the young. That’s why they sit on our necks.
After dinner, Kira put Olya to bed, and Igor helped his father in the shed. Berta Alexandrovna washed dishes, loudly clattering plates. It was obvious she was unhappy that her daughter-in-law hadn’t offered to help.
When Olya finally fell asleep, Kira went out to the veranda. Her mother-in-law sat there with a tablet, studying the weather forecast.
— Tomorrow will be a good day for planting, — she said without looking at Kira. — I expect you to help me with the carrots and beets. Igor will be busy with the potatoes and the fence.
— I’ll try to help when Olya is sleeping, — Kira answered cautiously.
— If you wait for her to sleep, we won’t finish until autumn, — the mother-in-law cut off. — Put the stroller next to the beds, let her breathe fresh air. She won’t melt.
Kira pressed her lips to avoid saying something sharp. She understood arguing was useless. Better to wait until morning and solve problems as they arise.
The night was hard. Olya, unused to the new place, woke up every hour and cried. Kira barely slept, rocking her daughter. Igor tried to help, but the child calmed only in her mother’s arms.
In the morning, exhausted from the sleepless night, Kira went to the kitchen; her mother-in-law was already bustling by the stove.
— Finally, — she threw over her shoulder. — I thought you’d sleep until lunch. Breakfast is on the table, eat quickly and get to work. We need to finish the main tasks before the heat.
— Good morning, — Kira muttered, feeling broken. — Olya slept poorly; I’ll feed her now and…
— Feed her after work, — interrupted the mother-in-law. — Nikolai will stay with her while we’re at the beds. He won’t get much done with his back anyway.
Kira cast a helpless look at Igor, who was spreading butter on bread.
— Mom, Kira needs to feed Olya. It won’t take long.
— There’s never enough time if you waste it thoughtlessly, — Berta Alexandrovna cut in. — At your age, Igor, I worked, ran the house, and still managed the dacha. And you always have excuses.
Nikolai Petrovich, sitting in the corner with a newspaper, quietly coughed.
— Berta, let the kids have breakfast peacefully. The whole day is ahead.
By noon, the tension peaked. Igor worked with his father by the fence, and Kira tried to help her mother-in-law with weeding, occasionally distracted by crying Olya. Berta Alexandrovna demonstratively sighed and shook her head every time her daughter-in-law went back to the stroller.
— In my time, children weren’t carried around constantly, — she repeated. — They got used to independence from the cradle.
Kira remained silent, holding on to the last bits of patience. She understood that any reply would only make things worse.
Suddenly, the gate opened, and Sofya and Pavel—Igor’s sister and her husband—entered the yard. It was unexpected—they usually warned of their arrival.
— Mom, Dad, hi! — Sofya, an energetic woman resembling their mother with her resolute character, hugged the parents. — We decided to come help. Pavel took the day off.
Berta Alexandrovna lit up.
— Now that’s a surprise! Now that’s what I call real care for parents!
The comment was clearly aimed at Kira, who was rocking crying Olya. She greeted Sofya and Pavel, trying not to show irritation.
— How’s my niece? — Sofya approached Kira and stroked Olya’s head. — She’s so big already!
— Growing, — Kira smiled. — Just restless in the new place.
— Spoiled the child, — added Berta Alexandrovna. — Sofya and Pavel understand the importance of helping parents, unlike some who just dote on the baby.
Sofya glanced quickly at her mother-in-law’s daughter-in-law and frowned slightly.
— Mom, Kira has a small child, it’s not easy for her.
— I had small children too, and still managed work and housework, — Berta Alexandrovna retorted. — Well, let’s get to work. Sofya, help me with the greenhouse, and Pavel, go with the men fixing the fence.
When the mother-in-law walked away, Sofya quietly told Kira:
— Don’t pay attention. She’s always like that. I grew up with it and got used to it.
Kira nodded gratefully. She was glad to get some support.
At lunch, Sofya unexpectedly mentioned the neighbor at the dacha, Anna Sergeyevna.
— Mom, do you know what Anna Sergeyevna tells the neighbors?
Berta Alexandrovna became alert.
— What else has that gossip made up?
— She says you make the whole family work at the dacha to sell the harvest and save up for a sanatorium trip. Supposedly, you bragged that this year you’ll earn more on vegetables than last year and go on vacation “like a queen.”
Berta Alexandrovna’s face flushed with anger.
— That old… — she stopped, looking at her granddaughter. — A liar! I never said that! She’s jealous because my harvest is always better.
— I thought it was untrue, — Sofya nodded. — But she tells everyone, and…
— And everyone believes! — Berta Alexandrovna interrupted. — Of course they will! She’s a “respected person” in the cooperative, a former librarian. And who am I? Just a retired teacher.
Nikolai Petrovich shook his head.
— Berta, don’t take it so to heart. Who cares what Anna Sergeyevna says?
— I do! — exclaimed the mother-in-law. — I won’t let her tarnish my name! We must show we’re a united family working together for the common good!
Kira felt a rising protest inside. It was obvious the mother-in-law used the neighbor’s gossip as another lever of pressure on them.
After lunch, Berta Alexandrovna took Igor aside and talked to him for a long time. Returning, he looked worried.
— What happened? — Kira asked when they were alone.
— Mom is furious about the gossip. She wants all of us to help make the perfect garden to spite the neighbor. I said we’d stay until evening, but then we need to return to the city — I have an important meeting at work tomorrow.
— And what did she say?
— Said I choose work over family, — Igor sighed. — A classic manipulation tactic.
Igor’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and frowned.
— It’s work. Strange, it’s a day off.
The call was short, but judging by Igor’s face, unpleasant.
— Did something happen? — Kira asked when he finished.
— Emergency at the site. A pipe burst, and the basement flooded. I need to go immediately.
— Right now?
— Yes, unfortunately. — He ran a hand through his hair. — I can’t take you with me — I’ll have a meeting with management, and I don’t know how long it will take. Can you stay here with Olya until tomorrow? I’ll come for you as soon as I handle the problem.
Kira felt her heart sink. Alone with the mother-in-law, who was already on edge?
— Maybe I’ll come with you? Olya and I can wait somewhere in a cafe while you’re in the meeting.
— With a small child in a cafe? — Igor shook his head. — Not a good idea. Besides, mom will be very upset if you both leave.
— What about my feelings? — Kira asked quietly. — Your mom criticizes me and finds fault all day.
Igor lowered his eyes guiltily.
— I know, and I’m very sorry. But it’s only one day. I’ll try to come back as soon as possible. Sofya and Pavel are here too; they won’t let mom pressure you too much.
After Igor left, the situation became even tenser. Deprived of her son’s moderating influence, Berta Alexandrovna began to openly express her dissatisfaction.
— I knew he’d find an excuse to leave, — she said angrily while weeding. — Modern men don’t think about their parents at all.
Kira, rocking crying Olya, tried not to react to these comments. She was grateful to Sofya, who constantly tried to distract her mother with other topics.
In the evening, when Olya finally fell asleep, Kira went to the kitchen. Berta Alexandrovna was sitting there alone — Nikolai Petrovich and Pavel were tinkering with a pump in the shed, and Sofya was taking a shower.
— Berta Alexandrovna, — Kira began, gathering her courage, — I would like to talk to you.
— What is there to talk about? — the mother-in-law responded coldly. — I see everything anyway.
— What exactly do you see?
— That you don’t care about our family. That you use the child as an excuse not to help.
Kira took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
— That’s not true. I value your family very much and understand how important this garden is to you. But right now my main duty is to care for my daughter. She’s only six months old; she depends completely on me.
— At your age, I raised two children, worked full-time at school, and still helped my parents, — Berta Alexandrovna snapped. — And you can’t even weed a bed without drama.
— Times have changed, — Kira gently replied. — Nowadays, there are different ideas about raising children.
— Exactly! Now everyone thinks only about themselves. No respect for elders, no gratitude for everything we do for you.
— What do you mean? — Kira asked cautiously.
— Who, do you think, helped you with the down payment on the apartment? Who stayed with you when you were on bed rest? Who cooked for you after birth?
Kira blinked in surprise.
— Berta Alexandrovna, Igor and I saved for the down payment ourselves. You never gave us money for the apartment.
— Of course, we didn’t give you money directly! — exclaimed the mother-in-law. — But we always supported you morally. And I helped you after the birth.
— You came three times, and each time told me I was doing everything wrong, — Kira replied quietly. — That’s hard to call help.
Berta Alexandrovna’s face twisted in anger.
— So that’s how it is? Is that the gratitude I get for all my efforts? For wanting to teach you to be a good mother?
— I’m grateful for your intentions, — Kira said cautiously. — But every mother decides how best to care for her child.
— And that’s why you don’t let me raise my own granddaughter? — the mother-in-law raised her voice. — That’s why you refuse to take my advice? That’s why you turn my own son against me?
— I’m not turning anyone against anyone, — Kira felt her patience running out. — I just want you to respect my decisions as a mother.
— Respect? — Berta Alexandrovna laughed bitterly. — Do you respect me? Respect my experience, my knowledge? Or do you think you know better because you read some modern nonsense on the internet?
At that moment, Sofya entered the kitchen. She assessed the situation and quickly intervened:
— Mom, Pavel is asking for your help with something in the shed. Something with the tools.
Berta Alexandrovna threw one last angry glance at Kira and left the kitchen.
— Thank you, — Kira exhaled when they were alone with Sofya.
— You’re welcome. I know how persistent she can be. — Sofya sat opposite. — Don’t take it to heart. She’s always been like that — loves to control everything and everyone.
— How did you handle it growing up?
— I didn’t handle it, — Sofya admitted honestly. — I obeyed. I went to the university she chose, dated the guys she approved. Only with Pavel did I first go against her will — she considered him «not ambitious enough.» And you know what? That was the first time she began to respect me.
Kira looked at her surprised.
— Really?
— Yes. She’ll never admit it, but she respects people who can stand up to her. Only she thinks those people must be equal to her in status. And in her eyes, a mother with a small child… well, let’s say, that’s not the highest status.
— But that’s absurd! Being a mother is a huge responsibility.
— For her, motherhood was always something taken for granted, not an achievement. She’s proud of her teaching career, her garden, but not that she raised children. It was simply her duty.
These words made Kira think. Maybe the problem was deeper than just a clash of personalities. It was a clash of different views on life, the role of a woman, and motherhood.
The next morning started with an unexpected announcement from Berta Alexandrovna.
— Anna Sergeyevna is coming to visit today, — she said at breakfast. — She wants to see how our garden is doing. She’ll probably tell all the neighbors that we’re a mess. So we need to weed and prepare everything perfectly. And by the way, Kira, I want you to stay here for a couple more days. I need your help.
Kira almost choked on her tea.
— But Berta Alexandrovna, Igor should pick me up today. I don’t have things for a long stay, and Olya needs her toys, her crib…
— Igor can bring everything necessary, — the mother-in-law waved her off. — I already spoke with him on the phone. He said if you don’t mind, you could stay and help.
Kira felt anger growing inside. She doubted Igor really said that. Most likely, Berta Alexandrovna interpreted his words as she wanted.
— I’m very sorry, but I can’t stay, — Kira said firmly. — Olya sleeps poorly here; she needs her usual surroundings. Besides, I can’t stay at the dacha just to impress the neighbor.
Berta Alexandrovna froze, staring at her daughter-in-law with wide eyes. She clearly didn’t expect such open resistance.
— What did you say? — her mother-in-law’s voice became quiet and dangerous.
— I said I can’t stay, — Kira repeated, feeling her heart pounding. — My main concern right now is Olya’s well-being. She’s better off at home.
— Oh, is that so? — Berta Alexandrovna sharply stood up from the table. — So you don’t care about our family? About what the neighbors will think? About how our garden will look?
Nikolai Petrovich tried to intervene:
— Berta, you shouldn’t…
— Silence! — his wife cut him off. — You always indulge the young. That’s why they sit on our necks!
Kira felt a lump rise in her throat. She didn’t want a scandal, but it was too late to back down.
— Berta Alexandrovna, I respect you very much, but my priorities now are my daughter. I can’t sacrifice her comfort and health so that your garden looks better than the neighbor’s.
— Your priorities? — the mother-in-law snorted contemptuously. — And what about respect for elders? Gratitude for everything I do for you? I work to my last strength to provide you with vegetables for the winter, and you…
— Mom, — Sofya suddenly interrupted, — Kira is right. Olya really is better off at home. Small children have a hard time adjusting to new places.
— And you too? — Berta Alexandrovna threw up her hands. — I’m surrounded by traitors!
At that moment, the sound of a car arriving was heard. A minute later, Igor appeared at the door.
— Good morning, everyone! — he smiled but stopped in the doorway, sensing the tension. — What happened?
— Your wife refuses to help the family, — Berta Alexandrovna said sharply. — She says she needs to go home, to comforts. And that Anna Sergeyevna is coming to check the garden today doesn’t bother her!
Igor looked at Kira.
— I really want to go home, — she said quietly. — Olya sleeps poorly here, and your mom demands I stay a few more days to help with the garden.
Igor frowned and turned to his mother:
— Mom, we can’t stay. Olya has her routine; she needs her crib and toys. We already spent the weekend here and helped as much as we could.
— But Anna Sergeyevna…
— With all due respect, — Igor interrupted, — a neighbor’s opinion cannot be more important than our daughter’s well-being.
Berta Alexandrovna went pale with anger.
— So that’s how it is? You choose her side against your own mother?
— I’m not choosing sides, Mom. I’m just saying our child is our main priority now. And I’d appreciate it if you respected that.
A heavy silence fell. Nikolai Petrovich and Sofya exchanged worried looks. Pavel, standing aside, nervously shifted from foot to foot.
— Fine, — finally said Berta Alexandrovna in an icy tone. — If that’s the case, you can leave. But don’t count on my help anymore. And don’t expect cucumbers and tomatoes either.
— Mom… — Igor began, but his mother-in-law was already leaving the room.
— Close the door when you leave, — she called over her shoulder.
The trip home was silent. Kira rocked sleeping Olya, and Igor drove attentively, gripping the wheel tightly.
— Sorry, — Kira finally said. — I didn’t want to cause problems between you and your mom.
Igor sighed.
— It’s not your fault. Mom has always been like that — demanding, controlling. Everything must be her way.
— Sofya said she respects only those who can stand up to her.
— That’s true, — Igor nodded. — When I went to a technical university instead of pedagogy, as she wanted, there was a huge scandal. But then she suddenly became proud of me. “My son is an engineer,” she told everyone. Although before that, she called my choice a betrayal.
— So she’ll cool off?
— She will, — Igor agreed. — But won’t admit she was wrong. She’ll sulk, refuse help, say she can manage herself. Then find a new reason to complain.
Kira thoughtfully looked out the window.
— You know, I understand she wants to control the situation. But I can’t let her control our daughter.
— And you shouldn’t, — Igor briefly took his eyes off the road and smiled at his wife. — You’re a great mother, Kira. And I’m on your side in this.
These words warmed Kira’s heart. She always feared that in conflicts Igor would side with his mother.
— Thank you, — she said quietly. — That means a lot to me.
Two weeks passed quietly. Berta Alexandrovna didn’t call, and Igor also didn’t rush to call her. He said his mother needed time to “digest” what happened.
Then something unexpected happened — Kira’s mother, Natalya Andreyevna, arrived. She lived in another city, five hours away, and usually gave advance notice of visits. But this time she called from a taxi approaching their house.
— Mom! — Kira hugged her at the door. — What a surprise! Why didn’t you warn me?
— I decided spontaneously, — smiled Natalya Andreyevna, a woman with kind eyes and gray in her dark hair. — I missed my granddaughter. And I think you could use some help.
She took jars of homemade jam and pickles from her bag.
— Here, I brought treats. All natural, from my garden.
In the evening, when Igor went for a walk with Olya, Kira told her mother about the conflict with her mother-in-law.
— I feel guilty, Mom. Maybe I should have stayed and helped?
Natalya Andreyevna shook her head.
— Kira, you did everything right. Your child is your top priority. No one has the right to demand you put anyone else’s wishes above your daughter’s well-being.
— But Berta Alexandrovna thinks I should help out of respect…
— Respect for elders doesn’t mean blind obedience, — Natalya Andreyevna gently replied. — It means paying attention to their needs, but not at the expense of yourself and your children. Berta Alexandrovna must respect your role as a mother just as you respect her role as a mother-in-law.
Kira nodded thoughtfully.
— She’s very worried about the neighbor, about what others will think…
— That’s her problem, not yours, — Natalya Andreyevna said firmly. — Every generation has the right to live their own way. When I became a grandmother, I realized one important thing: my role now is not to command, but to support. Berta Alexandrovna, apparently, hasn’t reached that understanding yet.
These words brought relief to Kira. She often doubted her decisions’ correctness, especially when Berta Alexandrovna criticized her parenting so persistently.
Natalya Andreyevna stayed with them for a week, helping with Olya and the household. She didn’t pressure with advice, just quietly supported her daughter and son-in-law. Igor said the very first evening: “This is what real help means — without criticism and demands.”
On Natalya Andreyevna’s departure day, Igor received a message from his father. It was a photo of their dacha garden — perfectly cared-for beds, blooming bushes, neat paths.
“Despite the lack of help from the young ones, your mother still managed the garden,” the text under the photo read. “And yes, Anna Sergeyevna burst with envy — our harvest is one and a half times bigger.”
Another message followed: “Mom will never admit it, but she’s proud you stood your ground. She even boasted to the neighbor that her son wasn’t afraid to defend his family. Maybe someday she’ll understand that a granddaughter is more important than cucumbers.”
Kira read the message over her husband’s shoulder and smiled.
— See? Sofya was right. Your mom respects those who can stand up to her.
Igor shook his head.
— Still, she won’t tell us that. She’ll sulk until autumn, then find a new cause for conflict.
— And we’ll defend our boundaries again, — Kira replied calmly. — Because right now our main concern is our daughter. No cucumbers will change that.
They both laughed, watching Olya smile in her crib. Yes, full reconciliation with the mother-in-law might never come — their views on life and family values were too different. But they didn’t regret standing their ground and protecting their child’s interests.
In the end, they created their own family — with their own rules and priorities. And the main priority was their little daughter.
A week later, Berta Alexandrovna finally called. The conversation was tense but without former hostility. She didn’t apologize — that wasn’t her style. But she invited them to come for Nikolai Petrovich’s birthday. “Only briefly,” she emphasized. “I understand the child’s routine.”
It was the first step toward a new relationship — perhaps imperfect but more respectful. And Kira was ready to accept this step while keeping firm in defending her young family’s interests.
That evening, Igor hugged his wife tightly and said:
— Thank you for teaching me to stand up for our family. I think I was afraid all my life to disappoint my mother. But now I understand that you, Olya, and I — we’re my main family. And that’s worth protecting.
Kira pressed against him, feeling warmth spread in her chest. Perhaps this conflict was inevitable — a necessary stage in forming their own family, with its own rules and boundaries. And though the path to full understanding with the older generation would be long, the first and most important step was already taken.
