Leaving my kids with my sister while I was away seemed like the obvious choice. But what happened under her care—and the way she refused to take responsibility—left me heartbroken. I always thought of my younger sister, Maya, as someone I could count on.
She’s two years younger than me, works as a nanny, and has always been good with kids. If there was anyone I trusted to care for my children when I couldn’t, it was her. That trust mattered more than anything, especially because I’ve been raising my children alone for the last five years.
My job as a sales manager is demanding—long hours, endless phone calls, last-minute presentations. Sometimes it feels like I’m spinning twenty plates at once, hoping none of them crash. It doesn’t always fit neatly with the reality of my children’s school schedules, after-school activities, or even just being home for dinner.
There are days I feel like I’m failing both as a professional and as a mother. But Maya was always there to bridge the gap. I remember one afternoon when I had a client presentation scheduled at the exact same time as parent-teacher conferences.
I panicked, thinking I’d have to disappoint one side. That was when Maya stepped in without hesitation. She picked the kids up, made them snacks, and even helped them with their homework before I got home.
When I walked through the door that night, my daughter proudly showed me the math problems she had finished with Maya’s help, and my son was grinning from ear to ear because “Auntie let us watch cartoons after homework.”
That moment sealed it for me—I believed I could rely on her no matter what. So when another responsibility came up, Maya was the first person I thought of. A weekend conference was scheduled in another city, and there was no way I could bring the children along.
I asked Maya to babysit for the day. She agreed without much hesitation, and to make sure she took it seriously, I even offered to pay her double her usual rate. “Double?” she asked, raising her eyebrows, half-amused, half-skeptical.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “It’s just for one day, but I want you to feel appreciated.”
She smirked. “If you insist.
Alright, I’ll do it.”
I smiled with relief. “Good. I’m counting on you.”
When I left the house that Saturday morning, the kids were already splashing in the pool, laughter ringing through the air.
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