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Nate and I are having rocking chair issues. Theyíre ugly. And the ones that are less ugly are super-expensive. And, Iím sorry unborn person, but Iím not spending more on a chair for you than I did on my sofa.

At first I thought we didnít really need a chair. After all, we already have places to sit in the apartment. Then I thought about walking up and down the stairs all night long with a hungry newborn. It would be dark. And Iím not known for my grace and coordination. And we have cats that just love to bob and weave around my feet. What happens next would not be pretty.

So I found a chair that I deemed acceptable. Nate, however, does not agree. Heís very particular, that one. But until his breasts turn into magical milk caddies, I feel like this decision can be mine. He just needs to handle the heavy lifting portion of the deal. But I do want him to not hate it. So Iím hoping that this photo will help pull him to my side.

I went to an open house with a friend looking to buy an apartment today and this chair sat in the babyís room. This chair looks very similar to the one I donít hate. And the babyís name is Nathan, see. Thatís a sign, no?
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