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January 23, 2009

So, I have a little bit of guilt about this chair. It originally belonged to my great-great grandmother, and was passed down through the generations and given to me before Isabella was born. I love that it's an old wooden rocker. The arm rests are aged and worn, but smooth at the same time. It's got a great old-fashioned shape. But it just isn't as comfortable as I'd like it to be. We replaced the springs and cushions and recovered it with a fabric that I bought many years ago. And when you rock, it makes an awful creaking noise that would wake any baby that you might want to rock to sleep. Sadly, the rocker is now sitting in the garage, waiting until Kevin has time to put it up in the attic. When Ione noticed the chair in the garage tonight, she hopped right up onto it. Since she's very possessive right now, she gave me a very firm, "Mine!" and slouched down with a pout.