It all started when...
We had our first baby and I returned to work. Like most mothers I found the transition BRUTAL. The separation from bubs was one thing, the afternoons leading to heading home were entirely another...the dreaded daycare pick-up.
The journey home from daycare was always various levels of traumatic. A hungry, overtired bub and we're not moving... stuck in peak hour traffic. Helpless to do anything about bub crying in the back of the car and hating every moment.
Later in the evening, after we had survived the marathon that is feeding, bathing, giving milk to and calming bub, with a glass of wine in hand, my husband and I would fantasise about a Nonna.
What would it be like to come home at the end of a long working day to a Nonna. No dreaded daycare drop off (oh the tears!) or daycare pick-up. No stress or rushing. Our very own Nonna.
Bubs would be fed and bathed and chilled out in pjs. We wouldn't be rushing out of work to try to get bubs home before he 'turned'. What it would be like to come home to a lasagne or moussaka (or anything!) baking in the oven.
Our conversations about Nonna became even more frequent when we had our second and third children. We realised that we couldn't be the only family without local support of grandparents or relatives. Maybe there were other families out there dreaming of Nonna too....