Just like clockwork, Tayler was ready for her 11:00 nap and we made our way upstairs to her room. Blinds drawn, door closed, noisemaker on, and assume the position in the glider. I sat there in the dark rocking her into sweet dreams, and after she fell asleep I just couldn’t get myself to put her down in her crib. Her legs were tucked around my waist, head nuzzled in my neck, tiny fingers gripping my shirt to ensure I didn’t leave, and oh did she smell sweet. Just one of those days when extra snuggles were desired and necessary. There was laundry to fold, dishes to do, clothes to pack, and my hair to tame, but this moment was where I belonged.
Any mom who rocks their little one to sleep knows that after so many hours in that chair, you sit in the peaceful darkness with your own thoughts. Today as her tiny chest was moving up and down on mine, I began to look around her room. A year ago, this beautiful room was nothing. Muted pink walls, dirty blinds, and a stash of crappy cd’s the previous homeowners left in the closet. Today I looked around and saw touches of time and love in every corner. Custom clothes, piggy banks, books with handwritten notes, cross-stitched signs, handmade burp cloths, and decor picked out with only Tayler in mind. So much “stuff” filled this room. As I looked around, however, there was one “thing” that got me a little choked up and sentimental. Ok fine, a lot choked up and incredibly sentimental. (For you new or soon-to-be moms, no one tells you that “pregnancy hormones” stay forever, and you’re just a hot mess, all the time, from here on out). It was the glider I was rocking in. This chair that silently moved effortlessly as Tayler and I bonded.
This chair. This was where we read books together before bedtime. Where we spent a few nights crying together during those first weeks home, as we learned what each other needed. This chair was where we spent countless hours when she wasn’t feeling well, and all she needed was mom’s smell and touch. This was where we take her monthly photos that I know we will cherish beyond measure when she herself is a grown woman. This chair. Where we have taken naps together, laughed together, and got so comfortable in each other’s arms that I thought we’d never get up. This chair is where I learned just how rewarding nursing can be. Where I joyfully watched the love of my life become a father. Hours upon hours have already been spent in this chair, and not a single minute of them has been wasted. This is where she listens to my heartbeat that she’s known long before we met. Its where I’ve sung lullaby’s (she doesn’t know yet that I am a terrible, terrible, singer), gently smoothed the little hairs on her head, and given her 7 months worth of goodnight kisses. This chair.
When I picked it out I had no idea the magnitude of the choice I was making. This is where memories are made. If you’re a new mom I encourage you to choose carefully. Love not only the way it looks and makes your nursery appear complete, but love the way it feels. This is where the magic happens.
I hope to rock more of our children in this chair, but until then… Tayler and I have many more hours of snuggly bliss to enjoy.