Until recently, the only options for sitting in my front living room have been three rocking chairs and a glider, at least one of which is old enough that I’ve been breastfed in it.

We arrange the four chairs in a squared circle producing a relaxed sitting-room atmosphere far preferential to parlors of old. My seat is front-right beside the window with sightlines on the driveway and yard. It’s the best seat in my house.

I sit here in the sunshine, like a cat, watching birds and squirrels while trying to make sense of the world. I keep the table in front of me stocked with recent newspapers and magazines, including the town’s quarterly magazine in case visitors need to orient themselves or find a coupon for a discounted oil change.

When company is visiting, I take my seat by the window then watch and note where visitors position themselves. Do they want proximity to the window? Cushion or wood? An unobstructed view of the TV, or proximity to the host?

Each chair has a special meaning.

The oldest is taken from the house I grew up in and is placed in the back-left position. It is a scratched up brown chair in the classic mass-produced Sears-catalog design that sits in most living grandparents’ homes. The chair still has chew marks on its feet from a dog who’s been dead for over twenty years.

Jenny bought the glider, which has since been moved to the back living room, at a roadside sale very early in our relationship. I watched her restore it and it has traveled cross-country with us twice and been in every place we’ve lived together.

The two white rocking chairs come from Cracker Barrel and were my wedding gift to Jenny. The newest addition is a child-sized Cracker Barrel rocker and was given to us by a very dear friend in honor of our coming daughter. There’s room for everyone in our rocking room.

While the previous paragraph may make me come off as a hillbilly grifter, you can’t deny that rocking chairs are fun. They facilitate conversation, perhaps for no reason other than the fact that your hands naturally go to the armrests instead of to your cell phone.

Rocking chairs make sitting just a little less passive but without the obnoxiousness of giant inflatable ball chairs or standing desks. They are a dignified form of restlessness: perpetual motion without the hassle of actually going anywhere.

As great as my rocking room is, I readily admit that it isn’t the best use of space. We recently added a love seat from our primary loving room (to clear space back there for a more nursing-friendly chair), and it’s really changed the room’s vibe.

People rarely nap in rocking chairs; Jenny napped in our love seat the very first day it was moved up front.

The changes are for the better, overall, but I already miss the purity of my rocking room. It has served many functions.

On Sunday mornings it’s my spot for Meet the Press and coffee. Throughout the 2016 primaries, and for every election since, it has served as campaign headquarters where I watch results come in while Jenny’s in the back living room watching sports or something silly like Real Housewives of the Food Network.

During snowstorms, I watch the minute-by-minute local news reports that Connecticut is famous for while tsk-tsk-tsking the lack of plows clearing out my street, for which Connecticut is also famous.

With our first child on the way in ten weeks or less, I suspect the room will continue to change. Our unassembled high chair and probably correctly-assembled baby stroller are already welcomed additions.

It’s entirely possible that one day there won’t be any rockers in there at all, just dollhouses, an arts-and-crafts table, and a toy chest.

But it’s also possible that one day soon I’ll be sitting up here rocking with my daughter in the same seat my parents once rocked me. While my Mom will never hold my daughter, her old rocking chair may, which is pretty cool.

And soon after that, I may find myself sitting in my rocking circle surrounded by stuffed animals and Barbies while drinking imaginary tea and listening to Frozen for the millionth time, once again enjoying the feeling of perpetual motion without the hassle of actually going anywhere. There’s no better seat than that.

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