I became a grandma recently, which has been equal parts magical … and also mildly humiliating. Because apparently, everything we did thirty years ago is now wrong. Like, way wrong. I marvel that my daughter survived to age one.

Put the baby on their stomach? Wrong. Kiss that baby on the face? Not yet, Grandma. Add a blanket and a stuffed animal to the crib? Horrors. Let them cry it out for a few minutes? Essentially a felony.

I did manage to bite my tongue before saying “But we did it this way and you turned out ok …” which I’ve learned, details ⇒

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