Well, she didn't talk about formula, or how we need to start him on solids muy pronto. She restricted her comments to complaints about how often he was eating (she didn't understand why I couldn't just leave him at home and travel in to the next town to go for a day of shopping . . . ), and reflections on how "needy" breastfed babies are. I just smiled and said that it didn't bother me at all, and, besides, it wasn't forever. Her actions, however . . . she was determined to cook a big meal, which was pretty much a disaster all around. She'd ask my husband about every ingredient, which was good, but then would use whatever ingredients she wanted, which was not so good. That meant that I really couldn't eat what she made without seriously upsetting my stomach and the child's. I found polite ways around that, though (pushing food around my plate while sampling the less offending items), and was able to discard the rest without her notice. Can't wait to see how the next visit goes . . .