That night in Quezon City, I turned on the aircon in my room and carried my son to sleep to cool down. Unexpectedly, my mother-in-law – Nanay Lita also came in with a pillow, saying she would sleep with my husband, me, and my nephew.

I – Jessa – am the only daughter in the family, and have been loved by my parents (my paternal family lives in Makati) since I was little. In the past, my parents wanted to matchmake me a “well-off” guy, but I insisted on marrying Carlo out of love. Unable to change my mind, my parents had to agree.

Before the wedding, my parents bought me a small apartment in Quezon City, near SM North, and opened a passbook savings account in my name. My father carefully instructed me: “This is for emergency money. Don’t tell your in-laws, only use it when you are really in trouble.”

My in-laws are not well-off; to put it bluntly, they are struggling. And Nanay Lita thinks of ways to get money from her children every day.

Just three days after the wedding, Nanay asked me to give her money because she “borrowed from relatives and friends” to hold the wedding party at the barangay hall. She said she needed the money to pay off her debts. I was upset but still had to give her nearly 200,000 pesos. I thought it was over, but that was just the beginning.

In the following days, Nanay kept “borrowing” money. I gave it to her twice, but when I refused the third time, she got angry and had a cold war with me for a long time.

On Nanay’s birthday, I gave her a gold bracelet worth nearly 80,000 pesos, and she smiled and told me again. I had to endure it for the sake of peace.

At first, my husband and I lived separately in an apartment that my parents bought. I absolutely did not want to live with my husband’s family. But one day, when we were having dinner, Nanay put down her chopsticks and sighed:

– Carlo, Jessa, my legs and arms have been aching lately. The doctor at the Quezon City public hospital said I need to have regular checkups. Traveling from Bulacan to the city is too inconvenient. Mom is thinking of moving in with us, near the hospital for convenience.

Carlo already felt guilty because after getting married he couldn’t stay by to take care of his parents. Hearing Nanay say that, he held her hand and without hesitation:

– Mom, come back here and live with us. I’ll take care of you. Besides, Jessa is about to give birth, she definitely needs your help. It’s better to be near her.

I was about to open my mouth but seeing my husband’s determination and Nanay’s expectant eyes, I kept quiet. Carlo “prevented”:

– You’ll have Nanay to take care of you after giving birth. Mom is very good, don’t worry. Just pamper her a little bit.

A few days later, Nanay moved in.

From then on, things got more complicated. Nanay’s habits were different from mine: she woke up very early, fussed about cooking, and I also had trouble sleeping on weekends. She liked to pile old things all over the house, saying “to use later”. The apartment was messy, I was frustrated but had to endure it.

When my son was born – we called him Baste – everything exploded. I bought new clothes for him, Nanay objected: saying it was expensive, forcing me to use ukay-ukay (old clothes), even advising me to ask for things from a charity group.

– Mom, newborns have sensitive skin, you shouldn’t wear old clothes of unknown origin. Now that conditions are good, buying a few new sets isn’t much, Mom.

Nanay also forced me to drink all kinds of homemade leaf juice: malunggay lagundi…, saying it would help me have milk. I told her if I didn’t have enough, I could use supplementary formula, she scolded me:

– What a waste! In the past, I raised his father with rice water, lugaw, sabaw. No need for powdered milk!

When the child grew up a little, Nanay told me to save leftovers for the child’s next meal:

– We have to be frugal. If there is any leftover rice or soup, put it in the ref (refrigerator) to reheat for Baste to eat tomorrow!

I said softly:

– Life is better now, children eating leftovers is not good, it is easy to get stomachaches, Mom.

Nanay snapped:

– I don’t know how to save! Mom is old, I don’t know what is good for my children!

After saying that, Nanay cried, complaining to Carlo: “My wife is wasteful, saying that Mom’s way is outdated!” Carlo was embarrassed.

What I couldn’t stand the most was the electricity bill. Nanay was determined not to turn on the aircon:

– When it’s hot, turn on the fan at high speed. Meralco charges a lot! It’s both economical and environmentally friendly!

– Mom, it’s 40°C outside, I have prickly heat. Turn on the aircon to cool down, Mom!

– Children have to get used to the heat. Turn on the fan!

Because of this, I argued with Nanay. At night, I closed the door, turned on the aircon, and held Baste to sleep. Unexpectedly, Nanay brought a pillow to sleep with me. I nudged Carlo, he whispered: “Never mind, Mom. As long as Mom is happy.” Then sleep.

In the middle of the night, I was burning up. It turned out that Nanay had turned off the aircon. I touched Baste, who was burning up, sweat dripping from his head and back. I was shaking with anger: how could I be so stingy that I even annoyed my grandchild?

I carried my child to my parents’ house in Makati and told them everything. My parents were angry and said that my behavior was too much. They and I thought of a plan.

At the end of the week, the doorbell rang. Nanay ran to open it, stunned to see

My biological parents stood there, carrying their bags:

– Hello, Grandma! – My father said – We came to live together to help the two children and Grandma. It is also an opportunity for the children to be close to both sides of the family, so it is easier to support each other.

Carlo and Nanay paused. No one dared to say anything harsh, because everyone knew that this apartment was bought by my parents, and my husband’s family did not contribute any money.

The following days, my mother helped take care of Baste. While cooking, she spoke loudly enough for Nanay to hear:

– Children have weak digestive systems, they must eat cooked food and drink boiled water, and eat each meal separately to be healthy.

My mother put some boxes of high-quality formula milk on the shelf:

– Grandma bought it for Baste. Just give him enough nutrients. Now that we have the means, why not give him the best?

Nanay turned pale and was silent the whole meal. A week later, she said she missed Bulacan and wanted to go back to her hometown for a while, and “left it to Grandma” to take care of the children.

I knew the plan had worked. Not wanting to be nervous, I took out a piece of paper from the drawer – a copy of my parents’ passbook – and placed it in front of Nanay, whispering:

– Mom, I’m not stingy. I just want to spend wisely for my child. I have money, but I don’t want to make her a victim of frugality. Please respect that.

Nanay blushed, pulled her hand back, and cried:

– Mom knows that sometimes it’s too much, I just want to save for a difficult time. I’m sorry for you and your husband.

When she got to the provincial bus to Bulacan, I suddenly felt sorry for her. Seeing Carlo fidgeting, I called out:

– Mom, stay here with us. Stay in Quezon City, Carlo and I will take care of you, but please: anything related to Baste’s health, please listen to our arrangements.

Nanay paused, turned back, and nodded. That night, what happened was not an argument, but my parents and Nanay sitting down together, openly sharing. My father joked: “Aircon 27°C, fan number 1, peace!” The whole family laughed, and Nanay turned on the aircon herself, covered Baste with a blanket, and said softly:

– Let mom watch the temperature from now on. You can’t be hot anymore.

I breathed a sigh of relief. In the Philippines, people often say “bahala na” (let’s do it), but my family understood: don’t give up, make clear the boundaries, keep the relationship – and put the little one first.