My 7-Year-Old Drew a Picture of My Husband with Another Woman and Wrote, ‘I Can’t Wait for You to Be My Mom’

When Amber, a hardworking mom and corporate attorney, discovers a drawing by her 7-year-old daughter, Mia, her world is shaken. The picture shows Mia’s teacher in Amber’s place with a heartbreaking caption. Suspecting betrayal, Amber confronts her husband, Jack, only to uncover something deeper… Mia’s feelings of abandonment amidst Amber’s busy life.

I didn’t think I’d be here… but this has been life lately.

A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking out the window | Source: Midjourney

I’m Livia, I’m thirty-four, married to my husband Jack for ten years, and I’m a mom to my bundle of joy, Mia, a seven-year-old little girl. Recently, I’ve been busier than I’ve ever been in my entire life, which is truly saying something because I’m a corporate attorney.

My mom’s health has been declining over the past year, and we’ve been throwing ourselves into her hospital stays, therapy sessions, and medication that costs way more than I care to admit.

To cover everything, I’ve been working insane hours because I’d do anything for my mother.

A woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

Anything.

Jack has been the best partner and rock I could have ever asked for. He has stepped up at home in ways I never imagined or expected. Jack has taken on the cooking, cleaning, helping Mia with her schoolwork, and managing all the little things I used to handle.

He made it possible for me to keep everything afloat, even when it felt like I was drowning.

A father and daughter duo sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A father and daughter duo sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

But last night, everything changed before I could even catch my breath.

I came home late, exhausted, starving, and ready to collapse. After hurriedly eating a bowl of salmon and rice while Mia took her bath, I put my little girl to bed. As she dozed off, Mia mumbled something about puppets.

“I didn’t know that you could put your hand in a socket and it would be a puppet,” she said.

A green sock puppet | Source: Midjourney

A green sock puppet | Source: Midjourney

“A sock, my darling,” I said. “Not a socket! Don’t you ever put your hand in a socket, Mia.”

She giggled.

“Okay, Momma,” she said, yawning.

A yawning little girl | Source: Midjourney

A yawning little girl | Source: Midjourney

I started tidying up her dolls, which were scattered all over the carpet in her room, and then made my way to the coffee table in the living room. Crayons, white paper, and coloring books were scattered all over.

That’s when I found it. A drawing.

At first glance, it seemed innocent enough. A kid’s sketch of a happy family. A man, a woman, and a little girl holding hands. But when I looked closer, my stomach twisted.

A woman gathering crayons | Source: Midjourney

A woman gathering crayons | Source: Midjourney

The man was unmistakably Jack. The little girl was clearly Mia. But the woman? Definitely not me.

She had long brown hair and wore a flowing bridal gown. Beneath the drawing, in Mia’s little handwriting, were the words that broke my heart:

I can’t wait for you to be my mom!

It felt like the ground beneath me had given way.

A child's drawing | Source: Midjourney

A child’s drawing | Source: Midjourney

I took the picture to Mia’s bed and sat on the edge, trying to wake her up enough to get answers.

“Darling girl, can you tell me about this drawing?” I asked her calmly.

“What drawing, Momma?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

When Mia took a look at the drawing, her face turned red, and she snatched the paper out of my hand, clutching it to her chest.

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset little girl | Source: Midjourney

“You weren’t supposed to find that! Daddy said to hide it better!” she blurted out.

Hide it better? Jack? Hide what better?

My heart started pounding. What was going on? Was Jack cheating? And what was worse… was Mia already imagining this other woman as her mom?

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

I barely slept that night. My mind was running miles per hour. I thought about my mother, I thought about the work I still needed to do before heading to the office the next day, and I thought about my marriage…

By the morning, I had gone through a storm of worst-case scenarios. I sat in the kitchen, waiting for Jack to get ready for work. Mia had already left for school.

“What is this?” I demanded, thrusting the drawing into his hands.

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened, and his face turned pale.

“You told her to hide it?” I asked. “You actually told Mia to hide it?”

“Wait, wait,” he stammered, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s not what you think, Amber. Let me explain it all to you.”

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A worried man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“You have exactly five seconds, Jack. I’ve been going crazy the entire night.”

My husband ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed.

“Come with me,” he said.

“What? Where are we going? What about work?” I asked.

A man standing in a kitchen with his head bowed down | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen with his head bowed down | Source: Midjourney

“We’re going to Mia’s school. I need to show you something,” he said.

I wanted to scream at him, but something in his voice, an urgency that didn’t feel like guilt, made me agree.

The drive to the school was tense and silent, my mind still racing. What would Jack show me at Mia’s school that would change anything? Was there an imaginary friend or imaginary step-in mother waiting for us?

An upset woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney

When we arrived at the school, Jack squeezed my knee. As we walked to the reception area, he squeezed my hand and asked to see Mia’s teacher, Clara.

As soon as Clara walked in, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. She was stunning, and for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why I hadn’t met her before. She had long brown hair, a bright smile, and an effortlessly bubbly demeanor.

She had to be the woman from Mia’s drawing, it was unmistakable.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

She smiled at Jack, and I wanted to scream.

“Clara,” Jack said. “Can you explain to my wife what’s been happening with Mia?”

Clara’s expression shifted to confusion but then softened as she glanced at me.

“Oh, of course,” she said.

A stressed woman | Source: Midjourney

A stressed woman | Source: Midjourney

She gestured for us to sit in the little room adjacent to the reception.

“Look, Mia’s been having a tough time lately,” she began. “She’s mentioned feeling like her mom doesn’t have time for her anymore. I’ve tried to reassure her, but she’s… well, look, she’s seven. And she’s been drawing a lot of pictures to process her feelings.”

Clara handed me a stack of drawings, and my heart sank as I flipped through them.

A stack of children's drawings and coloring books | Source: Midjourney

A stack of children’s drawings and coloring books | Source: Midjourney

Most were variations of the same theme. A happy family with Clara in my place. On the back of one of the drawings, there were more words I hadn’t noticed the first time:

Daddy and Clara.

“So, you’ve been spending time with my daughter?” I asked, unable to hide the edge in my voice.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, of course,” she said. “But only in class, and I’m her teacher, after all. She stays after class sometimes to help me tidy up. She told me she feels like she’s losing her mom because you’re always busy. I’m so sorry if I overstepped. I’d never want to interfere…”

I turned to Jack, my chest tight.

“And you? What did you say to her about this?”

A stressed man | Source: Midjourney

A stressed man | Source: Midjourney

Jack looked miserable.

“I found that picture last week,” he admitted. “I told Mia it wasn’t true, that you love her more than anything. But I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t want to make it worse by bringing it up when you were already so stressed out. I told her to put the drawing away because I knew it would hurt you.”

“You should have told me, Jack,” I said softly.

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

I honestly didn’t know what to think.

Jack nodded, guilt in his eyes.

“I know, love,” he said. “I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I just made it worse.”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

My anger began to deflate, replaced by a wave of guilt so heavy it nearly knocked me off my seat. This wasn’t about Jack cheating or Clara overstepping. It was about my daughter, her sadness, her confusion, and her way of coping with my absence.

That night, I sat down with Mia at the kitchen table. I had dished us bowls of ice cream with all the toppings, hoping for a bonding moment between us.

Bowls of ice cream | Source: Midjourney

Bowls of ice cream | Source: Midjourney

“Sweetheart,” I said softly. “I need to tell you something. I know I haven’t been around as much lately, and I’m so, so sorry. Grandma needs a lot of help right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you. You’re my everything, sweet girl.”

Mia’s eyes filled with tears, and she threw her arms around me.

“I thought maybe you didn’t like me anymore,” she whispered.

A little girl sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

A little girl sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

My heart shattered.

“I love you more than anything,” I said, holding her tightly. “Nothing will ever change that.”

In the weeks that followed, I made several lifestyle changes.

I cut back on work hours and asked my siblings to take on more of our mom’s care. Jack and I started a “Mom and Mia” night every week, just the two of us, doing whatever she wanted.

A little girl decorating cookies | Source: Midjourney

A little girl decorating cookies | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes it was baking cookies, other times it was a movie night, or building a fort, or sometimes it was just us dressing up and going on a date together.

I also had a heartfelt talk with Clara to thank her for being a wonderful teacher and being there for Mia when I couldn’t be.

She apologized again for any boundaries she might have crossed, but I reassured her that Mia’s drawings weren’t her fault.

A blanket fort in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A blanket fort in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“I just feel bad, Amber,” she said as she cleaned up paintbrushes.

“I know, but you really shouldn’t, Clara,” I said. “You became a safe space for Mia, and you reminded her of how loved and cared for she is. That’s something I’ll always appreciate.”

Life isn’t perfect, but it’s a lot better. I’m learning to ask for help and to show Mia that she comes first. And now, every time she picks up her crayons, I make sure I’m sitting right next to her.

A smiling mother and daughter duo | Source: Midjourney

A smiling mother and daughter duo | Source: Midjourney

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you: Sam used to be a mama’s boy, always clinging to Candice and lighting up at the sight of her. But one day, that changed. He started avoiding her hugs, her kisses, and even her presence. At first, I thought it was just a phase. But there was more to it. Much more.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My MIL Demanded $600 for Walking & Feeding Our Dog While I Was in Labor – I Agreed, but Only on One Condition

When I came home from the hospital with my newborn, I noticed a note on the table and assumed it was a kind message from my mother-in-law. Instead, it said she was charging us $600 for taking care of our dog while I was in labor. My husband promised to talk to her, but I had a better idea.

A few days before I went into labor, I was sprawled out on the couch, trying to manage the dull ache in my lower back that kept growing sharper by the minute.

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s, 9 months pregnant, sits on a couch looking worried and uncomfortable | Source: Midjourney

My golden retriever, Rich, rested his head on my lap, his big brown eyes watching me like he knew something was up. I scratched behind his ears, grateful for his calm presence.

“Jake!” I called my husband, my voice strained as another wave of discomfort rolled through me.

Jake was in the kitchen, stacking turkey and cheese onto a sandwich, his eyebrows crunched.

“Yeah, babe?” he replied, not even looking up.

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s making a sandwich in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “We need to figure out what to do about Rich while we’re at the hospital. Can we ask your mom to help out?”

We had a scheduled induction the following day because my baby was a week overdue, and I was ready to be done with this mess.

Jake walked over, sandwich in hand, and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “Don’t stress, Doris. Mom loves Rich. She’ll handle it.”

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever in a home | Source: Pexels

That was my husband. He shrugged off almost anything with an easy solution. His optimism was one of the reasons I loved him, but I’m not going to lie, it was also one of the things that often grated on my nerves.

But that might just be a product of the hormones and my discomfort. “Alright,” I said, leaning back into the cushions. “Just make sure she knows it’s only for a couple of days.”

Later that night, Jake called Abigail, his mom, and explained the situation. She agreed without hesitation. He hung up, grinning. “She said she’s happy to help. Problem solved.”

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels

I guessed that would have to be good enough for me.

Jake and I packed our hospital bag that evening, and the next morning, we said goodbye to Rich. By the door, I knelt to scratch his fluffy head.

“Be a good boy for Grandma, okay?” He wagged his tail like he understood.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Abigail waved me off with a smile. “I just wish I could be at the hospital.”

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s waving goodbye in a living room with a smile | Source: Midjourney

That had been a slight issue. We had asked that our family not visit or accompany us to the hospital. My pregnancy had been rough enough, and I just needed my husband during labor.

If something went wrong, I didn’t want anyone else there either.

Abigail said she understood, but maybe she was still a bit salty about it.

“Mom, you know our wishes,” Jake intervened, smiling to take the sting out of his words.

“I know, I know,” she said. “You modern kids! Now, go have my grandchild.”

“Thank you, Abigail,” I said, and with that, we went out the door.

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

A pregnant woman in her 30s waving goodbye with a small smile | Source: Midjourney

***

I never got to be induced. My water broke just as we were entering the hospital… and honestly, we, women, need to talk about labor with each other and our daughters more often because this was hell.

I spent hours gripping the hospital bed rails like they were the only thing tethering me to reality. Between the contractions and the endless poking and prodding from nurses, I thought I might lose my mind.

Jake was by my side the whole time, holding my hand and trying his best to keep me calm, though he looked like he was one more contraction away from passing out himself.

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s in a hospital looking in pain while in labor | Source: Midjourney

But all the pain and the exhaustion melted away the moment they placed my son in my arms. He was tiny, wrinkly, and absolutely perfect.

Jake and I cried like idiots. It was a marvel that we’d brought this little person into the world. For three days, the hospital was our bubble of joy.

When we were finally allowed to go home, I felt relieved. We carefully carried our child through the hospital doors toward the parking lot.

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

A parking lot | Source: Pexels

Jake called Abigail to tell her we had been discharged, and she said she was going to give us a few days to get settled before meeting the baby. That was so kind of her!

As we pulled up to our driveway, I thought about settling on our couch and getting Rich to meet his new little brother. It was going to be perfect… yeah, no.

The first thing I noticed when we walked into the kitchen was a folded piece of paper on the table. My heart fluttered, thinking Abigail had left us a sweet “Welcome Home” note.

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper on a kitchen table | Source: Midjourney

I carefully shifted the baby in my arms and opened it, already imagining something like “Congratulations on your new bundle of joy!”

Instead, the note read:

“You owe me $600 for feeding and walking Rich. My time costs money. You have my bank details.”

For a moment, I just stared at it, sure I was reading it wrong. But nope. It was real. My mother-in-law was demanding money for watching our dog.

It’s not that I didn’t want to pay for services like that, but she was family AND she never mentioned charging us.

A woman's hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman’s hand holding a piece of paper with a note | Source: Midjourney

“Jake,” I called, my voice sharp. He was in the living room, setting down the car seat. “You might want to come see this.”

He walked in, took one look at the note, and groaned. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” I said, waving the paper in his face. “Your mom’s demanding money for taking care of Rich while I was pushing your child out of my body.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair, already looking defeated. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered.

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man in his 30s looking exasperated, running his hand through his hair in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll handle this.” My mind was already coming up with an idea, and it didn’t involve quietly paying up.

A week later, Abigail came over to see the baby. She strolled in with a big smile, kissed Jake’s cheek in greeting, and began cooing over my son like the most doting grandmother.

“Oh, he’s precious,” she said, cradling him in her arms. “He has Jake’s nose.”

A baby's face | Source: Pexels

A baby’s face | Source: Pexels

For a moment, I almost believed she was here just to see her grandson. But as she handed the baby back to me, she dropped the act.

“So,” she said, brushing her hands together. “When can I expect my money? I’ve waited long enough.”

I stared at her, holding my baby close. My smile didn’t waver. “Of course, Abigail. I’ll pay you—on one condition.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Condition? What condition?”

I walked over to the computer desk we kept in the area between the kitchen and the living room and pulled out a folder I’d prepared earlier. I’d spent the past few days going through every instance when Jake and I had done something for her.

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

A set of folders arranged on a desk | Source: Pexels

Every favor, every single dollar we ever spent on her (excluding gifts) was all there in black and white.

“Well,” I said, flipping it open, “since you’re charging us for your services, I figured it’s only fair we do the same.”

I laid the folder on the table and slid it toward her. Abigail leaned over, her face tight with suspicion. “What is this?” she asked.

“You can think of it as an itemized invoice,” I said, keeping my voice light. “You know, like professionals do.”

Her face went pale as she grabbed the paper and scanned what I’d written.

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s looking surprised while holding a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

“Let’s see,” I began, tapping the paper. “Helping you move houses last year? That’s $800. That’s cheaper than regular movers, so you can consider it a family discount. Then, there’s the time we paid for your car repair when your transmission failed. That was $1,200. And the free babysitting I did for your neighbor’s kids at your request? That’s around $600.”

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Two people moving boxes | Source: Pexels

Abigail’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “This is ridiculous!” she finally sputtered. “You can’t charge me for things family does for each other!”

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Exactly,” I said, my tone sharp. “Family helps each other out without expecting payment. At least, that’s what I thought.”

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn in a blanket, talking and waving her hand | Source: Midjourney

She tried to argue, but her words came out jumbled. “But… but this is different! I had to rearrange my schedule to take care of Rich!”

“And I had to rearrange my entire life to have your grandchild,” I shot back, shrugging. “So if you want to talk about fair compensation, I think we’re more than even.”

Abigail’s face turned beet red. She stood there for a moment, staring at me like she couldn’t believe what was happening. Then, without another word, she spun around and stormed out of the house, slamming the door so hard the baby started to fuss.

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s, her face blushed and pouting, looking angry in a living room | Source: Midjourney

Jake, who had been watching silently from the kitchen, walked over and shook his head, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No one should mess with my wife,” he said, wrapping me in his arms and kissing my cheek.

I couldn’t help but laugh as we pulled apart. “You got that right,” I replied teasingly, sinking onto the couch with the baby.

Rich trotted over, his tail wagging, and rested his head on my knee. I scratched his ears, looking down at the little bundle in my arms.

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

A golden retriever with a lolling tongue | Source: Pexels

At that moment, I felt at peace. Abigail might not have learned her lesson, but at least she wouldn’t be bothering us about that $600 again. And if she ever did, well… I still had the folder.

Let her try me.

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 30s holding a newborn wrapped in a blanket, sitting on a couch with her husband smiling in the background | Source: Midjourney

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