MY LANDLORD RAISED MY RENT BECAUSE I GOT A PROMOTION—BIG MISTAKE MESSING WITH A SINGLE WORKING MOM OF THREE I’m a single mom of three—4, 7, and 11—and work full-time in logistics. We live in a modest two-bedroom rental. My kids share a room; I sleep on a pull-out couch. Not ideal, but it’s safe and close to school and work. Our landlord, Frank, thinks owning property makes him a genius. Ignores texts, delays repairs, and once said, “You should be grateful you’ve got a place at all with all those kids.” Still, I stayed. The rent kept creeping up, but it was manageable—until my promotion.

I’m not a petty person. Petty doesn’t fit into my schedule. Between raising three kids and working full‑time, I’ve never had the luxury of lingering over slights or plotting revenge. But when someone threatens the roof over my children’s heads—just because I finally caught a break—that’s when petty turns into strategy.

I’m Anna Calder. I’m 36, a single mom with three bright, messy miracles: Liam, eleven; Maya, seven; and Atlas, four. My day begins at 5 AM, bleary‑eyed but determined. I juggle cereal, backpack straps, and coffee the consistency of mud while my little humans tumble down the stairs, each ready to launch into the world. I make lunches, tie shoes, plaster smiles on sleepy faces, and rush out the door before the sun has fully risen.

My mornings are chaos—thankfully matched by my work life. For eight years I’ve been the go‑to problem solver on the operations team at Redwood Logistics. I’ve stayed late, skipped breaks, and taken fewer vacations than vacation days I’ve earned. Last month, after one particularly brutal quarter, I was promoted to Operations Manager. It wasn’t a headline‑grabbing event—no balloons or confetti—but it was mine. A raise that edged us closer to comfortable, a title that said, “You’re seen. You matter.”