Lauren Was Hesitant About Free Childcare From Her MIL—Until She Heard a Man’s Voice on the Nanny Cam Recording
I stared at the numbers on my laptop screen, frustration gnawing at me. My maternity leave was ending soon, and no matter how I adjusted the budget, even the most affordable daycare was still far too expensive.
“If only that center near the mall still had space,” I muttered.
“I still don’t see why you’d throw money away on daycare when I can take care of this little angel for free,” my mother-in-law Kelly said, rocking baby Lily in her arms. “Those prices are insane!”
My jaw tightened. Ever since I met Kelly six years ago, when Jordan introduced us, she had made it crystal clear—no woman would ever be good enough for her son.
Her constant jabs about my cooking and housekeeping had already worn me thin. The last thing I wanted was to give her full control over my daughter too.
“I don’t know…” I said cautiously.
Kelly rolled her eyes. “It’s simple, Lauren. Just say yes.”
I glanced at Lily, sleeping soundly in her arms. “I’ll think about it, Kelly.”
That night, I brought up Kelly’s offer with Jordan. He immediately thought it was perfect.
“I know you two don’t always see eye to eye,” he said, “but she raised me, didn’t she? And this doesn’t have to be permanent. You said that daycare center would call when a spot opens up.”
I hesitated but eventually nodded. “Alright. We’ll have Kelly watch Lily for now.”
“But she needs to understand this isn’t casual,” I added. “Even though she’s family, we expect basic babysitting rules: no guests, no long phone calls, no afternoon wine. If I tell her, it’ll cause an argument.”
“I’ll handle it,” Jordan promised, kissing my cheek. “It’ll be fine.”
And at first—it was.
The first week, Kelly sent me daily updates: how well Lily ate, how long she napped, how her diaper rash was healing. There were even photos from the park. I’d come home to a cleaner house and dinner waiting.
Maybe this could actually work.
“Thank you so much for this week,” I said sincerely that Friday. “It’s been a huge relief.”
Kelly smiled without looking up from Lily. “Being a grandmother is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I should be thanking you.”
I was just starting to let my guard down—until the nanny cam broke.
That Thursday evening, I walked in and found Kelly in the kitchen, nervously rubbing her hands on her pants. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“How was your day?” she asked too cheerfully.
“Fine…” I said slowly. “Where’s Lily?”
“Napping in her crib.”
“Is something wrong?”
Kelly sighed dramatically and pulled something from her pocket. “There was a little accident. I was dusting the shelves and this fell.”
She handed me the nanny cam—its screen shattered beyond repair.
“I’m really sorry,” she said. “I know these things aren’t cheap.”
I turned the camera over in my hands, suspicion stirring in my chest.
Kelly never touched tech—she was intimidated by anything more complicated than a flip phone. Her suddenly deciding to clean around the camera? Suspicious.
“It’s okay,” I said calmly. “These things happen.”
“You’re not upset?”
“No. Accidents happen.”
Later that night, after she left and Jordan was asleep, I examined the camera closely. The screen was destroyed, but when I connected it to my laptop, I saw that the audio files were still intact.
I hovered over the most recent recording, hesitating. Was I overreacting?
Maybe. But something felt off. I clicked play.
It started innocently enough—Kelly singing lullabies, Lily cooing, the creak of the rocking chair.
Then, I heard the front door open.
“Hello?” Kelly called out.
“It’s just me,” replied a man’s voice.
A voice I didn’t recognize.
“You sure she won’t find out?” the man asked.
Kelly laughed. “Relax. She’s at work. We’ve got hours.”
Footsteps. Cupboards opening. The clink of glasses.
“Wine?” Kelly offered.
“Don’t mind if I do.”
Flirty laughter.
My heart sank. Kelly wasn’t just babysitting—she was having guests over. Drinking. Entertaining men. In my home. Around my baby.
I slammed the laptop shut and began pacing. That night, I barely slept, my mind spinning.
By morning, I had a plan.
“Have a great day at work!” Kelly chirped as I kissed Lily goodbye.
“You too,” I replied with a forced smile. “See you tonight.”
But instead of going to the office, I parked a block away and waited. After 30 minutes, I quietly returned to the house.
Even from outside, I could hear laughter.
I unlocked the door and stepped inside.
There they were—Kelly and a silver-haired man I’d never seen, seated at my dining table with two half-empty wine glasses between them.
And no baby monitor in sight.
“Where’s Lily?” I demanded.
Kelly jumped up, her face paling. “Lauren! What are you doing here?”
The man fidgeted in his seat. “Uh, I should probably go—”
“No,” I said sharply. “Stay. I’d love to know why my MIL is entertaining strangers in my home while she’s supposed to be watching my child.”
The room fell silent. I could hear Lily crying faintly in the distance—clearly not recently checked on.
Kelly’s expression turned defensive. “Don’t be so dramatic! Greg is just a friend from church.”
“I don’t care if he’s Saint Peter. You’re ignoring my daughter to go on dates in my house.”
“She’s fine,” Kelly snapped. “She’s in her crib.”
“She’s been crying,” I said, already walking to the nursery.
Lily’s diaper was soaked. Her face was red.
“Oh no! I wasn’t ignoring her!” Kelly insisted from the doorway.
I held up the wet diaper. “She has a rash, Kelly. She needs to be changed immediately.”
I looked her dead in the eyes. “You won’t be babysitting her anymore.”
That afternoon, I told Jordan everything. As I spoke, his expression darkened. By the end, he was furious.
He called Kelly, putting her on speaker.
“Mom, what the hell were you thinking?”
“She’s turning you against me!” Kelly cried.
“I heard the recording,” Jordan said coldly. “You had a man over while you were watching Lily. You ignored her cries.”
“I was lonely!” she snapped. “Greg is a friend! I’ve taken better care of Lily than Lauren ever could—”
“Don’t,” Jordan cut in. “You crossed the line. We’re done. We’ll find someone else.”
“She’s my granddaughter!”
“And she’s our daughter,” he said.
He hung up, then immediately called a locksmith.
“Just to be safe,” he said as they changed every lock.
That night in bed, I asked quietly, “Do you think we did the right thing?”
Jordan didn’t answer right away.
“Yes,” he finally said. “My mom treated our home like a lounge and our baby like an afterthought. That’s not okay.”
I reached for his hand in the dark.
We didn’t know what we’d do next for childcare—but one thing was clear:
No free babysitting was worth the cost of our daughter’s safety or our peace of mind.