You act all HGTV and say things to yourself like, “No, we will absolutely never have an ugly, eyesore of a recliner in this home.” But then your husband buys you one as a push present after the baby. He imagines it possibly becoming “his” chair, until you yourself realize why men around the world fight over who sits in the ridiculous-looking contraption every Saturday during football game viewings.

The recliner is mine – to say the least. No one else is allowed to sit in it but me. It has all the perfect lumps and indentations from my favorite sitting positions. It emanates the faint scent of baby formula, pretzels and essential oils. Everything me. i have completed my seventh journal in this chair, filling it with letters to people who will never read them, people who inspire me daily. I rock my baby every day and night in this chair. I listen to my favorite songs in this sweet, soft chair. I devour books, Facebook stalk, gaze out of my picture window and solve TV mysteries here.

It reminds me of those unexpected moments in life. The thing you never expected you’d own, but that now takes up space in your heart regardless. They’re frustrating, unplanned and out of place, yet they are yours all the same. My recliner is my solitude and the best piece of furniture in my house–besides my king-sized; pillow mattress king bed (but that’s another blog).

Current Listening:
1) “Lover, You Should Have Come Over” Jeff Buckley [Grace, Live at Sin-é]
2) “Sweet Thing” Van Morrison, Jeff Buckley [Live at Sin-é]

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