Meet our rocking chair.
(Complete with spit-up stains down the back that need to be wiped off)
This is the rocking chair my dad gave to my mom when they got married.
It is the chair all 7 of their babies were rocked and rocked in.
(And believe me, my kids are not the first to spit-up in it, either.)
I have so many fond memories of the rocking chair from my childhood.
My sister and I used to tip the chair over and pretend we were driving to various locations.
The driver would sit on the front while the passengers would lie down under the back.
The other day a wave of nostalgia hit me and I decided to play the same game with my boys.
They quickly took ownership and turned it into an airplane.
(Baby winter hats turned sideways make great captain's gear in Wesley's eyes. Literally.)
We pretended we were flying all around the world.
We landed in China and lined up kitchen stools and climbed up and walked along the backs of the couches as we traversed the Great Wall.
We flew to England and visited Buckingham Palace and took a look at the beautiful gardens outside.
We soared our way to Utah to visit family and went sledding down the stairs in laundry baskets.
We hopped over to Idaho and inspected potatoes in the pantry.
Lunchtime and a hungry baby ended the fun,
but I'm sure our plane will be taking off again soon.
African drums are waiting to be made and played.
The Swiss Alps are waiting to be climbed and yodeled in.
Sandcastles are waiting to be constructed.
German chocolate is waiting to be enjoyed.