Counting basketballs

Last night at Blake's basketball practice, Etienne pointed out some basketballs that were stuck in the ceiling rafts. I asked him to count how many were stuck. He started, "1,2,3,4,5,6" (there were 3). Then I had him point to them and count. He got 5. So I put him face to face with me and asked him how many noses I had while placing his finger on my nose. Apparently I look like an Aliens character, I had 3 noses. Etienne can count to 20 and, until last night, I completely overlooked the fact that he has no comprehension of number value. So there I am in the YMCA fighting back tears and overreacting. Again. This seems to be my M.O. I know it isn't a big deal that he can't comprehend that; especially since English is his 3rd language. But still. How much else isn't he getting? My voices of reason (Ryan and my brother) both point out that love is an action and a feeling. Counting and opposites and colors are not felt. I appreciate that and also that God gives me these not so subtle reminders that our work is never done. Thank goodness for my voices of reason to keep me off the pantry floor!