At one point, she was holding a drink in the middle of the afternoon like she’d earned it through hardship.
I didn’t know any of this until I video-called Olivia to check in.
That’s when I saw the scene that made my stomach drop.
Olivia on the floor.
One twin tugging at her sling.
The other throwing snacks at her like it was a game.
Toys everywhere. Food smeared on the wall.
My granddaughter looked like she was trying not to cry — because crying costs energy she didn’t have.
I kept my voice calm because panic doesn’t help children.
“Sweetheart,” I asked, “where’s Lydia?”
Olivia said, “She needed a break.”
That was it.
I ended the call, grabbed my purse, and made a decision with full operational clarity.
If Lydia wanted to outsource parenting, she was going to learn what it costs.
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