The Rocking Chair Writer

I guess you could say...I rock. Well, I rock back and forth in a rocking chair for  hours. I hold my babies as long as they want to be held. As some (most) say here in the south, I spoil 'em. Only I don't spoil them. I help their brains develop, I help them cultivate healthy immune systems and secure attachment, help them relieve stress, be happy and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are loved and valued. Yes, I'm one of those parents. 

Not quite crunchy...I'm just a little bit more scientific in my approach to parenting. I am a bit of a sucker for well conducted research, but I do not fall for every statistic that I read. I'm just not that kind of girl. 

But back to the rocking chair. It's old. I've had it for two of my four kids. It's torn, worn and oh so comfy. It's earned every stain and every squeaky part. It was given to me by a friend. I have fallen asleep in it, holding onto sick babies who weren't quite ready to let go. I have sung many a goodnight songs to children acclimating to a new home. I have prayed, cried and laughed in that chair. I have told countless bedtime stories with countless characters and funny voices, and that is where this story begins. 

I would tell a different story every night, until the children started asking me to tell the same story again. I couldn't remember it. The stories just kind of flowed, but they only seemed to flow once. So I decided to voice record them on my iPhone. Don't worry-this is not a commercial. After doing that once or twice, I started typing stories out in Notepad. 

Then it became our routine. Rocking, sweet snuggles, cozy cuddles and books. Every night God's grace met me there and rested upon me, as I typed with one large thumb, book after book. I've expanded my "office space" to include the passenger seat of our  minivan. However, I reduce office hours to road trips after my duties as teacher, snack lady, referee, dj, and circus clown have all been fulfilled and the kids are sound asleep. I read, and I write by the glowing backlight of an iPhone 4, and passing headlights or rocking in an old, dodgy rocking chair.