Morning light glowed in the kitchen as I cleared Lily’s cereal bowl and cleaned Max’s hands. My phone pinged, and dread hit—it was another babysitter, Megan, quitting after one day. “I can’t continue,” she wrote. My heart sank. She’d been warm and excited when hired, like the two before her who’d also left suddenly. Lily, 5, stacked her toys in the living room, while Max, 2, waddled around chuckling. They were happy kids, so why did sitters keep leaving? I felt lost, questioning myself. When my friend Julie stopped by for coffee, I let it all spill. “Three sitters gone, Julie. What am I missing?”
Julie sipped her drink, frowning. “Are the kids acting up?” she asked. I shook my head—they were great, and I paid well. She paused, then said, “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s someone else here.” Her hint pointed to my husband, Dave, but I pushed it away. He’d backed my plan to work, or so I thought. Still, her words stuck. Tired of losing sitters, I decided to find out. After Dave left for work, I found our old nanny cam and hid it in the living room, tucked on a shelf. I told myself it was just a check, but I needed to know. I hired Rachel, a lively student, hoping she’d last.
Instead of work, I parked down the street, watching the nanny cam on my phone. Rachel played with the kids, all giggles. Then Dave came home early. My heart raced as he smiled at Rachel. “Everything okay?” he asked. “Perfect,” she said. He sat her down, saying, “The kids are a lot, and Sarah’s got postpartum depression.” I gasped—that was a lie. He added, “If it’s not for you, leave now. Past sitters caused trouble if they didn’t.” Rachel looked scared, grabbed her things, and fled. I stared at my phone, shocked. Dave was scaring them off with lies about me.
aNext morning, I faced Dave over breakfast. “I saw the nanny cam,” I said, voice firm. “You’re driving sitters away.” He flinched, then snapped, “You spied?” I pressed, “You lied about depression, Dave. Why?” He admitted, “I thought you should stay home with the kids.” My eyes stung. “You chose for me?” I asked. He said it was for my good, but I saw control. “I love our kids, but I need work too,” I said. His silence hurt. “I can’t stay like this,” I said, packing bags for the kids and me. Walking out felt heavy, but it also felt free. I didn’t know what was next, but I knew I’d decide it for myself.
