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Rocking all over the world

As a parent you quickly develop a rock. Your rock is powerful, it is your main line of defence in the soothing of your child. Your rock is good. No I am not referring to the follically challenged Quo, with their power chords and endless rewrites of what appears to be the same song, or any other rock band for that matter. I am of course talking about the rocking motion employed to calm your baby, to encourage sleep and the cessation of tears. After five and a half months I do it without thinking now, in fact it has become my default stance, so much so that this morning I found myself queueing in the supermarket, waiting to buy my breakfast banana, swaying from foot to foot. Of course having no baby in my arms just makes me look a little bit mental, made worse because its a cold November morning and I am wearing what Nikala affectionately refers to as my "murderer's coat" and "rapist's gloves".

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