Donald loves numbers, which is probably how we wound up with no fewer than six counting books in our midst.  I do not love numbers, but of all the counting books we read to Charlotte, I have to admit that I love Cleo’s Counting Book, by Caroline Mockford, the best.

There is, of course, not much to say about counting books.  Cleo’s Counting Book stands alone in that after it counts up to ten, it counts back down to one again.  All of our other counting books only count upward.  And that’s pretty much the most exciting thing about it.

Except for the artwork, that is.  Cleo’s Counting Book is beautifully illustrated.  The colors are vibrant, which is something that Charlotte is drawn to.  We spend as much time pointing out red and blue to her as we do counting frogs and bees.  But more than that, the illustrations have a warm, creative, and comfortable feel to them.

Pros: The rhyme is simple and catchy, which is a great asset to a counting book.  Furthermore, Mockford is clearly a very talented artist.

Cons: None.

Borrow or Buy: Although it’s lovely, for most people I would say this is a borrowing book.  It’s greatest merit is that it counts in reverse, something you can easily teach without a board book.

What to do: You can enter this giveaway by leaving a comment below or sending me an e-mail answering this question: what math or counting books do you love?  All you need is an e-mail address.  The giveaway ends Sunday evening at 9 P.M. Pacific Time and the winners will be announced next Tuesday morning.  You can leave one entry every day, for a total of up to six entries.

For extra entries: This is on the honor system, so please be honest.  I will award you one extra entry if you vote for me at Top Mommy Blogs or at Top Baby Blogs.  Each day you vote, I will award you two additional entries.  I am hoping to maintain or move into a spot in the top ten on both sites so that we can slowly begin to reach more parents about the joys and importance of reading with children.

To purchase this book: You can buy Cleo’s Counting Book through Amazon.com (that link uses my affiliate code) or locate a local retailer through Indie Bound.org.

An announcement: The winner of last week’s book series giveaway was Sarah S.  Congratulations, Sarah!

Dear Charlotte,

Several days ago, a woman nursing her baby at a local Cost Plus World Market was asked to leave.  And so, over the weekend, you and I drove to that same shop and participated in a nurse-in.

Sweetheart?  Before I go any further, I want you to understand that the decision your father and I made together to be a part of this nurse-in was not entirely about breastfeeding.  It had everything to do with our assurance that babies have a right to eat and parents have a right to feed.  Avid supporters of breastfeeding we may be, but the truth is that if a formula-feeding mother had been publicly harassed for shaking up a bottle, we would support her too.  Nor was our participation in any way reflective of how we view Cost Plus World Market.  People make mistakes and one uneducated employee does not a company policy make.

No, our ultimate decision came down to one simple point: your father and I want you to value peacefully and respectfully standing up and speaking out for yourself and for others.

For better or for worse, you are being raised in a home that highly esteems activism and education.  We view every penny we spend as a vote and we actively boycott companies (plural) whose policies we disagree with.  We highly prize voting and we spend weeks pouring over voter handbooks before showing up at the polling place to fulfill our civic duty.  We regularly call our congressional representatives to voice our opinions.  When we believe in something, really believe in it, we will fight for it.  And we very sincerely believe in walking the talk.

What I mean by that last part is this: revolution is in action.

This is an idea that neither your father nor I grew up with.  We grew up in households that instilled in us very strong convictions, but rarely (if ever) went beyond words.  And we are devoted to changing the tide with you.  You cannot educate and raise awareness if you are unwilling to live what you believe in.  It is all well and good to spout off about forest conservancy, for example, but if you want to make a difference, sign up for a national park clean-up.  Volunteer with a forest biodiversity charity.  Chain yourself to a redwood tree and preach the evils of deforestation.  Start a blog and open the doors for public discourse related to conservation efforts.

The options are endless, love bug.

Nursing at the nurse-in.  Also, other peoples’ signs.

As you grow, you will find that your father and I will always support your respectful and peaceful efforts to incite change.  We may not always identify with your causes, we may not always agree with your opinions, but we do believe in every individual’s capacity for making an enormous difference.  As Voltaire, a man far wiser than myself, put it: we may not agree with what you have to say, but we will fight to the death for your right to say it.  So stand up, my child, and speak out.

Charlotte, we participated in this nurse-in as much for you as we did to raise awareness about something we believe in.

I hope one day, you can see that.  And I hope one day, you value that as much as we do.

Love,
Momma

It is morning and we are laying in bed, falling in love.  Where’s Charlotte?, I ask as I throw a sheet over her body.  She pulls it down, flashing a triumphant grin, and we laugh.  Again, she signs, again.

Then we are changing her diaper, counting her toes, tickling her belly, pinching her cheeks.  We are chasing one another in circles around the house, and I am picking her up to shower her with kisses.  I love you so much, I tell her as I set her down.  Then I pat her bottom as she toddles off.  She looks back at me, smiling, anticipating.  I’m going to get you!, I yell out, even though I’m already tired of this game.

Soon we are sharing breakfast.  She is trying to use a spoon for the very first time, refusing to let me help her.  But she is so proud of herself every time some food makes it into her mouth that I sit there, clapping and smiling and cheering her on.  Afterwards, she is still hungry.  More, she signs.  Momma, more.  I cut up two strawberries.

Next we are snuggling on the reading chair.  I let her pick twelve books and we are reading them all, pointing out every animal and food and color and body part along the way.  My throat is dry, but she is enthralled.  I even read a few of the books twice.

Then we are building wood block towers and every time I announce LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I PRESENT TO YOU THE ONE, THE ONLY, BABY-ZILLA, she chuckles and knocks them down.  Blocks, she signs, and I nod.  That’s right, baby, I tell her.  These are blocks.

Before I know it, we are preparing lunch.  She is in a sling, snug against my body, head on my shoulder, watching as I slice a peach and spread sunflower butter on bread.  I tear off little pieces of fresh spinach for her while I work.  Afterwards, she hugs me and babbles while I wash dishes.

Soon, we are playing at the park.  We are running back and forth between two trees, playing a rudimentary form of tag.  She is laughing hysterically and another little baby is watching us intently.  His mother waves at me.  You two look like you’re having a fun time, she says.  Mind if we join you?  And, of course, we don’t mind at all.

It is afternoon and we are laying in bed, falling in love.  I am running my fingers through her hair, and she is drinking my milk, gurgling happily as we both close our eyes.  I love you, I whisper, oh, I love you so.

An unforeseen side effect of super-cute baby chub?  Dirty neck rolls.  An unforeseen side effect of army crawling?  Dirty onesies.  An unforeseen side effect of crawling on all fours?  Dirty knees.  An unforeseen side effect of walking?  Dirty feet.  An unforeseen side effect of falling down in the dirt?  The most adorable filthy bottom that I have ever seen.

I am beginning to think that children are dirt magnets.