My Chair

Over six years ago, my mother in law graciously offered to purchase a chair for me to use as a nursing chair once her first grandchild arrived. We spent the better part of weekend scouring Ft. Worth furniture and baby stores looking for just the right chair that would look nice, feel comfy and provide the right amount of arm support for its intended purpose.  I wanted something that looked like it came out of a Pottery Barn Kids catalogue and Aaron wanted something that he could fit into.  (Surprisingly enough, most rockers are not built with 6 ft.+ fathers in mind.)  Eventually, we found it.  It was blue, over stuffed and remarkably comfortable.  It arrived a couple months before Samuel did and has been with us ever since.  What makes it so great, though, isn't that it can make a Sunday football nap perfection or the fact that it can hold as many kids as we pile into it. Its great because it has been a silent witness to the many days and nights spent nursing babies, holding wounded toddlers, and reading with sleepy preschoolers.  Its been the backdrop for every birthday, Mother's or Father's Day and "welcome baby!" picture and, for the last couple of seasons, has been Aaron's official 24 viewing spot. 
Eventually, it will be replaced for something that matches with the other furniture or is in better shape, but, for now, its mine and I love it. 

 Aaron reading to Samuel his first day home.