I’m sick of looking after my grandchild’
More than half of UK grandparents help with childcare, but not all of them feel appreciated – and some are burnt out.
A rising number of grandparents in the UK are being roped in to help with childcare
Reading the WhatsApp message that popped through on her phone, Linda* felt her hackles rise. “Please don’t give her those fruit-flavoured yogurts you buy,” it read. “They’re full of sugar. Please limit her screen time to 30 minutes max per day, and that includes iPad and TV. Ideally get her out in the morning, so she can have some (screen-free) downtime in the afternoon. Things like fish fingers and pesto pasta are fairly processed and salty, so avoid if possible. We like her to eat meals cooked from scratch ideally.”
Linda isn’t a nanny, nor a childminder. She’s a 66-year-old former teacher, who has spent a career in the classroom and raised three healthy and successful children of her own. “The way my daughter-in-law speaks to me, however, you’d think I didn’t have a clue how to care for a child.”
The child in question is Linda’s three-year-old granddaughter who she started looking after three days a week when her son and his wife left London and moved back to his home town last December. Making Linda part of the “grandparent economy” – the army of UK grandparents who provide free childcare, saving their adult children a small fortune in the process. Studies show this ramps up during the summer and Christmas holidays. “As well as childcare, I’m often called upon to babysit in the evening if they’re meeting friends or if they have a work party, especially around Christmas time,” says Linda. “Local babysitters charge around £10 an hour, so it makes sense I guess.”
New data from the financial services company SunLife found that 59 per cent of UK grandparents help with childcare, a rise from 52 per cent in 2023, saving their children an average of £13,500 per year.
The UK has the second most expensive childcare system, according to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), with a full-time nursery place for an under-two coming in at £300 per week on average. Meanwhile, the recent increases to the employers’ National Insurance rate and wage rises mean that many nurseries and pre-schools face potential closure, according to the Early Years Alliance.
Grandparents like Linda are expected to pick up the pieces. “When my son announced they were having a baby in 2020 I was thrilled, and when they decided to move out of London last year, even more so,” she says. “They were paying a fortune for their nursery in London, and so I offered to help take care of my granddaughter, who up until then I only saw on occasional weekends or family get-togethers. My husband has a few health issues and he’s less mobile than me. I’ve always been fit and active, and I like keeping busy, so initially I was happy to do it. However, I soon found myself committing to two, and then three days a week of all-day childcare.”
On those days, Linda is expected to arrive at her son and daughter-in-law’s at 8am sharp. “I overslept once and arrived 15 minutes late. My daughter-in-law tried to be polite, but you could tell she was annoyed. My son called me later that evening to tell me I made her late for work. However, they sometimes call to say they’re going to be late home, and I don’t say a thing.”
Linda’s days are spent at local play groups, feeding, tidying and making sure nap time runs like clockwork, before getting her granddaughter bathed and ready for bed for 7pm when the couple arrive home from work. She estimates she spends about £100 a month on petrol costs, lunches out, playgroups (where you still pay in cash) and hot chocolates. “I don’t mind, of course, and I’d never expect my son to reimburse me. But I would appreciate a bunch of flowers now and then, or to be treated to a nice meal out. I also get very tired. I arrive home at around 7.30pm after a day spent with my granddaughter, and I’m exhausted.
“They’re far more caught up in rules than my husband and I ever were. Everything is so structured. My granddaughter can’t have sugar, and goes to various ballet, dance and music classes, when I’d much rather take her to feed the ducks or just cuddle up at home in front of a cartoon. But screens are limited, and sugar is banned. Which is all very well, and comes with good intentions, but the fact is I’m saving them a fortune in nursery fees, so you’d think they’d let it go. I’m starting to feel very resentful and some days I want to tell them I’m not doing it anymore. But then I see how hard they both work, how stressed they are about their mortgage, and how desperately they want another baby, and I can’t do it.”
Illo
‘Everything is so structured... I would much rather take my granddaughter to feed the ducks’ Credit: Tom Peake
A second baby would be a much longed for addition to the family, but Linda admits it would also bring other issues: “I’m not sure I could look after a newborn baby and a toddler at my age,” she says. “I’m 67 in February, and I get very tired. Days spent kneeling down on dusty, hard floors in church halls, playing with playdough and finger painting take their toll. I keep working up the courage to tell my son I may have to step back when a new baby arrives, but I haven’t managed it yet.”
Linda has noticed lots of other grandparents at these groups. “We chat among ourselves and many feel like me,” she says. “A few don’t have a bad word to say about the arrangement and love it. But many more feel the way I do. Which is that while we enjoy spending time with our much-loved grandchildren, we sometimes feel put upon and taken for granted. Silly rules about sugar irk us, as do comments about nap times. We’ve raised children before, for God’s sake. We know what we’re doing.”
The SunLife study also found that UK grandparents save parents £1.3 billion a week in childcare costs over school holidays, which is another bone of contention for Linda.
“My granddaughter hasn’t started school yet, so I don’t have to look after her over the six-week school summer holidays. But holidays are another thing I feel resentful about. My son will WhatsApp on our family group to let us know when they’re booking their family holiday. The implication being we should book the same week off, to avoid me not being around for childcare when they return. Things will get easier when she starts school of course, although I imagine I’ll be back at the school gates doing the drop offs and pick-ups three days a week, along with school coffee mornings and God knows what else I’ll be asked to do.
“I know I must sound awful. I love my granddaughter more than anything, and we’ve developed a wonderful bond from spending so much time together. But there are times when I wish I could just be her grandma, not the person telling her off for not sharing at playgroup, or for not eating her greens – another thing her mother reminds me to do.
“But more than anything, I long for my days back. Before my son left London, I spent time in my garden, met friends for lunch and swam twice a week at my local leisure centre. I didn’t realise until it was too late how much those things meant to me – and how good they were for my wellbeing and health. You hear about parental burnout all the time, and how exhausted parents are. But nobody gives much thought to grandparents like me behind the scenes who are providing childcare in their 60s and 70s. We love our grandchildren, but some of us are burnt out too. But we’re too fearful of upsetting our children to say anything.”
