“How to Explain to My Daughter-in-Law That She’s a Mother Now, Not a Teenager”

From the moment my son, Michael, introduced us to Emily, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. She was 24, but her behavior was more akin to that of a teenager than a young woman ready for the responsibilities of marriage and motherhood. Michael, however, seemed completely smitten and oblivious to the red flags.

When they first walked through the door, Emily barely looked up from her phone. She mumbled a quick “hello” before retreating to the living room, where she immediately immersed herself in her tablet. I tried to engage her in conversation, asking about her interests and her plans for the future, but she responded with monosyllabic answers, her eyes never leaving the screen.

Michael, on the other hand, was beaming with pride. He talked about their plans to start a family and how excited he was for their future together. I wanted to share in his excitement, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Emily wasn’t ready for the life he envisioned.

As the months went by, my concerns only grew. Emily’s behavior didn’t change after they got married. She spent most of her time on social media, posting selfies and updating her status, while Michael worked long hours to support them. When their baby, Lily, was born, I hoped that motherhood would bring out a more responsible side of Emily. Unfortunately, it didn’t.

Emily continued to prioritize her online presence over her daughter. She would prop Lily up with a bottle and then retreat to her phone or tablet. Michael tried to pick up the slack, but he was exhausted from working and couldn’t be there all the time. I offered to help as much as I could, but it wasn’t enough.

One evening, I decided to have a heart-to-heart with Emily. I invited her over for coffee and gently broached the subject of her responsibilities as a mother. “Emily,” I began, “I know that being a new mom is overwhelming, but Lily needs you to be present and attentive.”

She looked at me with a mixture of confusion and defensiveness. “I am present,” she insisted. “I’m always here with her.”

“Being physically present isn’t enough,” I explained. “Lily needs your attention and care. She needs you to engage with her, to play with her, to help her grow and learn.”

Emily’s eyes flickered back to her phone. “I do all that,” she said dismissively. “You’re just old-fashioned.”

I sighed, realizing that my words weren’t getting through to her. “Emily, this isn’t about being old-fashioned. It’s about being responsible and putting your child’s needs first.”

She rolled her eyes and stood up. “I think we’re done here,” she said curtly before walking out.

I watched her leave, feeling a deep sense of sadness and frustration. I knew that I couldn’t force Emily to change, but I also knew that Lily deserved better.

Over time, the situation didn’t improve. Michael continued to work long hours, and Emily remained absorbed in her digital world. Lily grew up with a mother who was physically present but emotionally distant.

Years later, Michael confided in me that he regretted not seeing the signs earlier. He loved Emily but realized too late that she wasn’t ready for the responsibilities of marriage and motherhood. Their relationship became strained, and they eventually separated.

As I look back on those early days, I wish I had found a way to reach Emily, to help her understand the importance of being truly present for her child. But some lessons can only be learned through experience, and unfortunately, not all stories have happy endings.