It’s practically a law of nature. It’s the law that says the more irritating you found all the warnings, admonishments and criticisms your mother hurled you, the higher the chances that you’re saying them to your own child right now. (Trust me, you are.) Like all natural laws, it’s dang powerful. Take Isla’s adorable head of fine little baby fur, for instance. Nothing substantial enough to style or brush. Just enough to get a little out of place. Just enough out to have me ’tisk ’tisking that people might think she’s living in a barn. (Yes, I have actually muttered that antiquated little phrase in my head.) Several times a day I resist the urge to reach for a brush. Several times a day…