Saturday, February 25, 2012

A Soft Place to Land

I had three chairs in my house: one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society.

Reagan has begun to notice the array of seating options available to her, all of them specially designed for someone her size.  This past week, she's been through them all, & is starting to warm up to them more & more (meaning, on occasion, she sits for more than two seconds without being forced to do so by straps & buckles).  

This was my mom's rocker when she was young.  Reagan LOVES, loves to rock, & manages to do so even in chairs not designed for it (in chairs, highchairs, car seats, couches, & church pews not designed for it).

Self-feeding attempt in her highchair:

Her 'Reagan' chair:

Sophie is always on clean-up duty when Reagan's snacking:

We even made good use of her stroller this week.  Before we moved, we lived on a busy street & it wasn't possible to safely take Reagan out for a stroll.  We live in the country now.  Well, in the country, on a golf course.  We see deer all the time & pass cows on the way to the interstate, so in my opinion, it's the country.  On Tuesday (every Tuesday), the golf course is closed for routine maintenance, which means it's open to those who want to walk the cart paths.  This past Tuesday, Reagan & I took an afternoon stroll (I pushed, she strolled) & enjoyed the course while it was free of golfers, carts, & potentially dangerous flying golf balls.

In a highchair at the Hilton Thursday night . . . we've frequented the Hilton for dinner on Thursday evenings lately to listen to the singer/guitar player who provides live music while you dine.  He is pretty good, & the food has been excellent every time.

This is a stool my sister got Reagan for her birthday.  She doesn't sit on it much, but she loves to push/drag it all over the house:

Finally, her original hotspots:


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