“Mommy, I will be one. I will be two. I will be three. I will be four. I will be five. I will be six. I will be seven. I will be eight. I will be nine. I will be ten,” the baby informed me, complete with counting fingers.
“Yes, Baby, you were one, two, three, and now you’re four. And yes, you’ll be getting older,” I agreed.
My baby is in love with counting. I remember when I was excited about getting older and couldn’t wait until I turned a certain age, and now I have to do subtraction on some days to remember my age.
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