This morning I overslept .This morning I can’t absolutely effort to be late on my schedule because nona is coming and there is still a lot to do.”Nona”is How the girls call my mother,their grandmother.I am not exactly sure where it comes from because it is not Italian and it is not English or Irish either.I think it is just the fusion between nonna (grandmother in Italian)and nana.I love my mother and you can indeed say we are close but she is indeed hard work.Nona has zero tolerance for shabby women and unmannered and/or not well looked after kids.Nona is also a cleaning freak and has a over developed sense of smell.When nona comes preparation is everything.The night before her arrival the girls are bathed ,their nails are inspected and clipped if needed.They are also instructed to only wear their good clothes(if only they would own some!lets say the less scrappy ones).I am not exonerated from close scrutiny either so my manicure ,pedicure and haircut must be up to date and I carefully pick the outfit I’m going to wear to collect her at the airport:first impression is essential.What I wear when she is here can be an open war declaration or an offer of peace.For example she hates denim skirts.She hates in particular one that I have with rips and that is also quite short :inappropriate and an unforgivable slip into bad taste considering that I am over 40s.If I wear it when she is here I usually intentionally look for trouble,I am in a rebellious mood.After walking the dogs I get home and I have 3 hours to make the house nona’s proof.Nona has very high standards and a huge house always tidy and immaculate.I will never get even close to that but I still try as hard as I can.I vacuum clean the house top to bottom.I remember to wash behind the toilet as it is the first place she’ll look at so to check if I learned something over the years she spent training me.Once I am done mopping and scrubbing the bathrooms I make the dust EVERYWHERE as nona is asthmatic .I brush the dogs and spray them with perfume as the over developed sense of smell of nona doesn’t get along with dogs smell.The car must be sanitized too.My neighbors always know when my mom comes because I vacuum the car that,lets be brutally honest, is always pretty disgustedly dirty:sand,crumbles,ripped napkins;you name it and you are sure you can find it in there.It never fail to amaze me the amount of junks and dirt a such small car can host.Personal and domestic cleaning is pretty much done.I make sure the laundry basket is empty and that everything that required to be ironed is too.I don’t want nona to iron.She loves ironing and always volunteer herself to do it but I can’t have her ironing my husband panties. Nona irons and sprayed with starch everything from shirt to towel, from knickers to socks to rugs’ fringes.Yes,you read it right,she goes around her house ironing her rugs’ fringes so that they will never take the wrong shape.An other thing that must be taken care of,before she arrives, is the garden.Nona loves gardening and her garden is beautifully maintained all year around.I love my garden too and I have nice flowers but I am not a perfectionist and do not prune my roses or hydrangeas by the manual recommended time but more when I feel like it! it works anyway,and the same for my indoor plants .I have a plant given to me by my grandfather when he came to visit us in the first house we bought,(14 years ago) and it is still alive despite the erratic watering.I am convinced that plants are like dogs and kids….they get used to the education you give them.My plants are educated to be independent and cope well with thirst.Wow,I am exhausted now.I would rather crash on the couch then drive to the airport but as less I stay in the house at this point and as more the house stays tidy and clean.Last more thing:check the supply of Bach’s flower rescue remedy to be sure I keep calm when I will be caught in between nona and her son in law.Nona,is in fact obsessed with respect and as much as she denies it she expects to be treated with”velvet gloves”.The traveling husband does not do “velvet gloves”and he is not trainable,too old now.Over the years he learned to be diplomatic and political at work but at home is totally different.He doesn’t speak much and when he does he says it as it is.Well,according to him he says it as it is; according to his mother in law he says it rudely and disrespectfully.When this happens she goes rigid and uptight.Steam of outrage gets out her nostrils but she won’t say a word to him.She would throw the look and the frown at me and then,when he leaves the room,unleash a big rant all over me.I’m finally driving to the airport and I am mentally ticking out all the boxes of things I was supposed to do.I drive and I think that no matter how old we are but in front of our mothers we will always feel like little girls.We fear their judgement and we are determined to impress them.Mothers:we love them,we fight them ,we blame them but ,we are blessed to have them.I drive and I smile,happy to go to the airport.