Our mothers were the "baby whisperers." But times have changed (I'm told), and my daughter was not interested in the wise counsel I proffered after the birth of her first baby. I was crushed until I realized she wasn't rejecting me, only my "suggestions;" I could still be a loving Grannie.
Isn’t it a little late? Or not? I remember 35 myself — and the feeling I was finally old enough to know better and still young enough to enjoy it and thinking that was, perhaps, the definition of “Grown Up.”