When my children started coming back feeling sick after visits to their stern grandmother, Eileen, I initially dismissed it as typical immune system battles. But deep down, I had an inkling that something wasn’t right.

My husband Nathan, who’s always been loving and supportive, seemed too lenient when it came to his mother. He often brushed off my worries with comments like, “It builds character.”

Last weekend, I dropped off Alex and Ben at Eileen’s, and they were as eager as ever. However, on my way home, I realized I’d forgotten their bag and had to turn back.

When I got there, I was horrified. Through an open window, I heard Eileen commanding my boys to do push-ups in the freezing cold, dressed in nothing but their underwear.

The windows were wide open, letting the cold winter air rush in, chilling their small bodies. My heart sank. I stormed inside, demanding an explanation.

Cool as ever, Eileen insisted it was all part of “building character” and that I was too soft on them. “They need to be strong,” she claimed. “This world isn’t kind, and they need to toughen up.”

I could barely contain my rage. These were children, not soldiers, and seeing their little faces, red from the cold, broke my heart.

I quickly bundled the boys up and packed their belongings. They appeared torn, wanting to please their grandmother yet knowing that something felt wrong.

On the way home, I asked my kids what usually happened at Grandma’s house. Alex revealed that they had to sleep with windows open in the cold, do grueling exercises, and only received extra food or blankets if they completed their tasks well. “Grandma says it makes us strong like Dad,” Ben added.

When we arrived home, Nathan was on the porch, confused about our early return. Inside, I confronted him, furious and heartbroken.

I was shocked that he defended his mother’s methods, saying it was how he had been raised, and that it contributed to his resilience.

But I couldn’t accept it. “This is not discipline, Nathan. This is abuse. Our boys are sick because of her, and I won’t let it happen again.”

While Nathan seemed torn between his loyalty to his mother and his love for our kids, I made my stance clear: this was not negotiable.

Our children’s health and well-being came first, and I wouldn’t allow them to be subjected to Eileen’s cruel methods anymore.

That night, as I sat alone, I knew I had to fight to protect my boys, even if it meant challenging Nathan’s upbringing.