“Change her diaper and I’ll feed her in The Chair.” <-- That's my wife in the morning. "The Chair" being the glider in The Bean's nursery. In the morning she has to make the distinction about nursing location, since she often feeds the baby in a side-lying hold in our bed. I know the day has begun in earnest when my wife takes The Chair.
She doesn’t know this, but I get a kick out of her calling it “The Chair.” Every time she says it, I think of the Stargate franchise and its control chairs, which were neural interfaces allowing humans to control the technology of “The Ancients.” Who are The Ancients? I’m not even going to try to explain. Go wiki it up.
In Stargate, “The Chair” (they called it that, too) was essential to piloting starships or firing powerful weapons that could make mincemeat of the Stargate teams’ enemies. In our house, The Chair is also powerful. It can make mincemeat of Margot’s crying—either because she’s being fed or getting rocked to sleep in it. It is the most powerful seat in the house.
UPDATE: Of course, as soon as I posted this, The Chair lost some of its power. It’s now apparently not enough for Margot to be rocked to sleep in the chair. She now requires her rocking slave to walk around while holding her. Or else she wails. Maybe The Chair needs a new ZedPM (Stargate fans will get that reference).