This Chair

I love this chair.  Not because it is so cozy and soft or anything like that.  But, it seriously is like the Cadilac of gliders.  Not because it does anything special.  Although, it does glide, recline, is extra wide, and has an ottoman that glides or can be in a fixed position. I so vividly remember being in Babies R Us, and sitting in every single rocker/glider they had.  Telling Marc that we would be spending a lot of time in this chair, so we probably shouldn't skimp.  The reason I love this chair is the memories I have rocking my babies in it.

The first time I ever sat it this chair was April 8, 2009.  It was the day we brought our tiny Marleigh home.   We sat in it to look around her nursery for the first time. I sat in that very same chair, terrified for Marleigh's first feeding at home.  Nervous that she might stop breathing while eating.

That first year, I felt like I lived in this chair.  There were countless hours spent rocking a precious girl that had such a hard time sleeping.  I remember many, many tears while rocking.  There were tears of joy that she was doing so well.  There were more tears of exhaustion and frustration wondering why it was so hard for her to get to sleep and stay asleep.

Marleigh liked to be held like a baby while rocking, and snuggled up close.  Her left hand would search until it found the collar of my shirt or the arm hole.  And then she would put her hand down in my shirt.  It was just something that seemed to comfort her.

As time went by, this chair became Marleigh's favorite place to read bedtime stories and say her prayers.  Many nights, we would finish reading a book, and a little voice would say, "More books, please."  So, we'd read just one more.

Shortly before Kade was born, Marleigh went through a phase.  She constantly asked me to "Rock, please, Mama."  Granted there were a few times that I didn't, but many more times, we would rock, just because.  Often not talking, just rocking and cuddling.

Once Kade arrived, the chair made it's way into his room.  It was where I sat to nurse him.  Nothing in the world is more perfect than gently rocking while nursing a baby.

Kade and I haven't logged near the hours that his sister and I did in this chair, but we still have had special moments.  Kade has never been much of a snuggler, but when we were battling his allergies (before we figured out what was going on), he slept much better if he somewhat elevated, so we rocked.

Kade really didn't like to be held like a baby much.  His favorite way to rock has always been with his back up against my chest and stomach, leaned back with his head resting on my shoulder.  He prefers to have my arms wrapped around his waist.  His chubby little hands search until they find mine, then he wraps them around my finger. To this day, he still does it while snuggling.

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Last night, as I was turning off the television and heading to bed, I could hear Kade tossing and turning in his room.  Normally, I would have ignored it and just went to bed.  He never gets up in the middle of the night or cries in his crib, so we never have to go in with him.  But last night, I did.  He was awake, but groggy. He wasn't upset or crying, but I still picked him up.  He wrapped his arms around my neck, laid his head on my shoulder, and mumbled, "Mama."  I asked him if he was okay, and he answered yes.  He squeezed my neck a little harder, so I asked him if he wanted to rock.  I figured we would rock for just a minute, then I would put him back in his bed.

We rocked for a few minutes.  I then was getting up to put him back to bed, and whispered, "Okay, Bubba, time for bed.  He so softly replied, "No, Mama.  Rock, peeaase."  How was I supposed to turn that down?  It was at that moment, that I realized that my time in this chair was fleeting.  There isn't going to be too many more opportunities for me to rock one of my babies in the middle of the night.  We sat there and rocked.  I could barely see his face, but watched as his eyelids grew heavy.  His long eyelashes blinked slower, and slower until he finally fell asleep.  He squeezed my fingers a few times, then let out his deep sigh, signaling that he was falling into a deep sleep.  I'm sure I could have moved him to his bed without him waking up, but I didn't.  I laid back and closed my eyes.

About an hour later I woke up, still sitting in the chair, holding a sleeping toddler that seemed almost as big as I am.  And that is when it really hit home.  My babies are growing up so quickly. In just a few short months, they will be 4 and 2.  I am thrilled that they are growing and thriving.  I am grateful that they have the chance to grow up, but it remains bittersweet.   My babies aren't babies anymore.  I am really going to miss these special times and sitting in this chair.