Practically overnight, Oliver has become a book hound. Bedtime has become a peaceful sweet time with him since we cut out bottles (plus he's slept through the night 7/8 past nights!). We rock together and he asks for book after book after book, though it's different than before because now he actually sits back and listens to the whole thing. We're both completely sick of baby books with one word per page, which means I feel like I need to dust off my library card. He loves Corduroy most right now, and I do too. Each page is the right amount of narrative to keep him engaged but not lose him.
I've also bought him some funny poorly written hippie books about accepting people of all shapes, colors and sizes. I love a book about a little pig who likes herself and declares, "I like my curly tail and my big round belly!" I also like a book that chants, "wherever you are, whoever you are, all over the world, there are people like you."
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