speaking of semantics

My mother was so proud of Mr.Q while she was down, she couldn't help but gush to him about what a big help he was being.

"help?" was the very-hands-on Mr.Q's reply, "is that all?"

My mother did backpedal quickly, but that wasn't her only gaffe during her stay. She is appalled that we don't cover babyQ in blankets, despite our reassurances that we monitor the temperature in her room carefully and she then became worried that the temperature in her room was too warm. Food introduction was another issue: well, with you, I would just... and babies just love (insert highly allergic food). References were, of course, made about her size, concern over the height of the jolly jumper, the smell of her socks, the fit of her clothes and the choice of her chew things.

Oh yeah, and she brought another book - on feeding this time, of course, She is thrilled to hear that the doctor agrees with her that rice cereal is the way to start - her interpretation on an email in which I said we would be including rice cereal as one of babyQ's early foods. [we had been contemplating the pros and cons around a slower introduction on grains - shocking!].

She is involved and interested in what's going on - and I really do appreciate that. Really. Honestly. Just maybe at a slightly less ... manic ... level.

Despite all this, she and babyQ got along famously: smiles and giggles and baby kisses. Everyone survived the evening of grandma babysitting. And everyone was calm, cool and collected during outings. My mother also commented on how calm, cool and collected Mr.Q and I are in dealing with babyQ and all babyQ-related things.

And, I'd like to add, in dealing with my mother.