Rocking Chair

One of my very favorite "splurges" we bought for the nursery was my rocking chair. It's not a wooden rocker, or a glider, but a big, comfortable, regular chair...that rocks. With an ottoman. It was one of my must-haves...and it was a bit pricey, but I can promise my used-to-be, pre-kid savings account that I've rocked every penny outa that chair. And then some.

I rocked Blip in that chair every single night (we spent at home...which was all but a few) since they day we brought him home from the hospital. Mike rocked him often, too. Especially on the nights he was home for bedtime. We have read countless books, sang songs, listened to music, watched videos, played games, Face-timed our favorite people, and said at least a million I Love You's while seated in that chair.

When Blip was getting too big to cradle, I cried. It felt like it happened overnight. But we just changed the way we held him a bit...and continued our routine.

Around his third birthday...just before Sister arrived...Blip was evicted from the nursery. He moved into his newly renovated Big Boy room, but the first thing he wanted in there was his rocking chair.  We struggled with Blip at bedtime the first several weeks (months?) and I often wonder if it was the biggest creator of our nightly bedtime woes. Not being rocked to sleep. It was hard for all of us.  Especially my little boy.

Once the baby was born things began to become more routine; Blip in his new room and the baby in hers. He never acted jaded or jealous about giving his sister the "baby room" or the "bumble bee room"...he's just cool like that, I guess. Not to mention his replacement room was pretty dang cool, if you ask me. 

But one thing he still asks, "Mama, will you rock me?" He doesn't do it too often, so when he does...we sneak into Sister's room after she's asleep, Blip crawls up in my lap, and we rock. He asks for his bedtime music (a playlist we've been listening to since before he was born), snuggles up against me while clutching his blanket...and we rock.

Some nights I'm so exhausted and I have fifteen things to do before I can go to bed...and I haven't eaten dinner...and and and...I always rock him. I know some day he'll stop asking...or I won't be here anymore, so I always want him to know I'm never too busy. Some nights, a lot of nights he asks me to "lay with [him] for one minute, please?" I always do. And then one night this week I told him I would be right back to lay with him. I knew he'd be asleep in about 20 seconds, so I finished putting the baby to bed and then worked on something else, and when I finally made it back he was fast asleep.  

He asked me the next day why I didn't come back to lay with him. I felt awful. I promised myself I would never do that again. It's such a little thing...and it's obviously important to him.

I have the fondest memories of my own mother sitting in the hallway outside my bedroom door reading to me (almost) every night. She read book after book after book...Anne of Green Gables, The Boxcar Children, Where the Red Fern Grows, The Secret Garden, and so many more amazing books. She would read a chapter or two...and then we'd sleep and I'm sure she stayed up late finishing her list. But I never remember her being too busy, too stressed, too tired, or any other excuse she could have rightfully used to get out of that 30-60 minutes a night...sitting on the floor in the hallway reading by the hall light.

Sitting outside my kids' bedrooms reading books to them at night is something I look forward to doing some day, so taking five minutes to lay with Blip (or however long it takes to rock him) is just the beginning.

Tonight I was asked, "Mama, will you rock me in Sister's room?"  So we quietly snuck in, he climbed up in my lap, asked for his music, and we rocked.  And rocked.  He fell asleep rather quickly, but I wasn't done yet, so we rocked and listened to music...and I could smell his clean hair as he snuggled up against me.

His sister is a much better sleeper (the going to sleep part...they are both excellent sleepers) because I don't have an hour every night to rock her after I get Blip to bed. By the time we get to bedtime we are all exhausted. She is fed her bottle while we read stories and then in the crib she goes. Lately, I have been making sure to rock my sweet baby girl often...even if I sneak back in and scoop her up, but it isn't as often as I'd like. Blip needs more attention than that at bedtime because of our rocking routine, but I wouldn't change a thing.  

I hope I get to be around for many years, but the older I get the more fear I have of dying the way my mother did. It doesn't control my life, but it's definitely a thought in my head. She barely made it to her 49th birthday. I have so many (which feels like so few most of the time) memories of the little things she did to make my life better. It's always the littlest things I remember the most often. I know she loved me. I know she sacrificed a lot for me...for my happiness. I know she did without so that we could do with.  

I hope these are the things my children always remember about me.  Whether I am here with them or not, I hope they know how loved and how wanted they both were. I longed for them, and I prayed for them.  I hope they know how much they changed my life.  How deeply I learned I could love the second I felt them move inside of me as they grew, when I heard their voices...and touched their soft skin.  I had no idea it was possible to love someone so completely. I hope they will remember that I was never too busy...and I always had time to rock them.