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Nora Needs to Wake Up Two Hours Earlier and Go to Bed Two Hours Later Than Her Mother-in-Law

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The day before the holidays, my husband, Thomas, suggested that we spend the summer at his parents cottage in the Cotswolds. Weve got two children Henry is nine and off school for the whole summer, while little Daisy, only seven months, would certainly be much happier in the fresh country air than in our stuffy London flat. Thomas reassured me that his parents, Margaret and John, would be delighted to have us. Apparently, they absolutely adore their grandchildren and know just how testing small children can be, so they wouldnt expect too much from us.

It sounded like an ideal way for all of us to spend the summer together, and I happily agreed. But looking back now, I can see how terribly mistaken I was

It didnt take long for the truth of the situation to surface. Thomas and his father had no intention of sticking around in the countryside. After barely a day, they both departed back to London for work and only showed their faces at the cottage on weekends expecting the table to be laid, house tidy, and all their creature comforts attended to, as if it was their own personal retreat after a long working week.

That left me, Margaret, and the children at the cottage during the week. Henry could turn the entire little house upside down in minutes so I had to be constantly on my toes. Daisy was still a baby; besides tending to her almost around the clock, I needed to eat and sleep properly so I wouldnt lose my milk. The stress and tension were far worse than anything Id felt at home, and honestly, any hope of enjoying the country just vanished.

Margaret and I divided household tasks straight away. She took on the greenhouse and sowing seeds, and I managed the cooking and housekeeping. We agreed to take turns minding the children. Because of late-night feeds with Daisy, Id slip off to bed fairly early, about nine oclock, while Margaret kept toiling away in the garden. Each night, after putting the children down, Id always ask her if she needed a hand, but shed wave me off every time.

I gritted my teeth through all the domestic challenges of cottage life and believed Margaret and I got on well enough.

I was, as it turns out, terribly wrong. The truth came when Thomas, freshly arrived for the weekend, pulled me aside and explained that his mother was quite put out with me. Apparently, she was worn out from working in the garden, and since I never pitched in, she said I did nothing but sleep all day. Thomas even quoted her saying a daughter-in-law should rise at least two hours earlier and retire to bed two hours later than her mother-in-law.

Worse still, Margaret was irked that I left the childrens beds unmade after their daytime naps, which apparently flew in the face of her ideas about hygiene.

I know Im far from the perfect housekeeper, but I truly dont see why I ought to exhaust myself in the garden just to please my mother-in-law.

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