Shaunna Faye

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

3 Hearts

I have two kids, so I have exposed hearts that aren't my own that are tender and breakable and even saying those words make me want to cry.

Martha's at the age now (almost 4) where she's having real, back and forth conversations with kids at school that actually mean something. She told me the other day that Joshua was her friend because he said he was but that Kaleah wasn't her friend. I asked her why Kaleah wasn't her friend and she said it's because she said she wasn't and that she asked Kaleah if she wanted to come over to her house and she said no. I also recall her telling me another time that Kaleah told her that her room wasn't pretty because it's yellow. This is my baby. My beautiful, cheerful, full of life, nice to everyone, baby. And another kid her age doesn't want to be her friend. She's mentioned the Kaleah thing a few times, so I know it stands out in her mind more than other stuff, which makes it even more heart breaking for me. When a 4 year old tells another 4 year old that she's not her friend and that her room isn't pretty, it hurts. If you don't have kids that sentence might seem silly to you. Before I had kids I might have thought "Well, they'll get over it." But this is my child. My very own flesh and blood that is PART OF ME. In my mind, everyone should want to be friends with her. She is so sweet and loves her friends so much and it makes no sense why another little girl would say that to her.

But I did what any Mom would do and told her that it's ok if Kaleah doesn't want to be friends. That you don't have to be friends with everyone and she should still be nice to Kaleah and maybe just play with Joshua instead. (High five, Joshua! I've always liked you.) But on the inside I was saying to myself "Man, screw that kid." But I know how life works. I'm around people at work every day and I'm not friends with everyone. But as an adult, I know how to be pleasant and hold my tongue when I need to. Skills that 4 year olds don't have yet. So I just keep telling myself that.

I look into the future and see Martha growing up and putting her heart on the line trying to make new friends. As much as she talks, she will no doubt succeed. But then some of those friends might not always be nice. And maybe some other kids just won't like her for whatever reason. And I think I just need to start preparing myself for the heartaches that she will go through and hope I will know what to say to her, or if I should even say anything at all sometimes. Her precious, tender heart will be broken at times and I'm not ready for that. I don't think I ever will be.

Monday, November 25, 2013

Abel's First Birthday

My wiggly, rough, typical baby boy turned one year old last month. I'm a little behind documenting it.

We had a Super Hero themed party. I always do the kids' first birthday big and then scale it WAY down after that. Number 1 is just so exciting, I want to share it with everyone we know!

Abel is such a typical boy. He's incapable of being gentle, unless he's giving kisses. (Just ask the cats.) He climbs on EVERYTHING. Seriously, I cannot keep him down. And he's always so proud of himself when he successfully gets up on whatever it is he's climbing on. He isn't a big fan of "real" food yet. He prefers jarred baby food, but he's learning. And when he's hungry, you can't feed him fast enough. He isn't a good sleeper like Martha is. He still wakes up once a night about 85% of the time. After a year, you just get used to it. Give him some milk, put him back to bed. I'm slowly figuring out ways to keep him asleep though. I've added 2 more blankets in his crib and that has helped A LOT. Also, feeding him a banana right before bedtime works wonders. I guess he needs to be totally immersed in comfort to get a good night's rest. At this point (13 months old), he's almost walking. He can take about 5-8 steps on his own before he falls. His favorite foods are Cheerios, toast, yogurt melts, and crackers. He's above average on all growth scales. Height, weight, head circumference....he's a big boy. His first word was Mama, but if we're not counting that, then it was kitty. He can tell you what sound a kitty, dog, sheep, and owl make. And my dude is a DANCING MACHINE. Sometimes I can't even get him out of his car seat in the morning because he's dancing so hard to the radio. Kid's got some moves. He loves his big sister so much. Thinks she's the funniest person around. He called her Mama for a while and now he calls her Nana (pronounced Nah Nah). He yells for her when she's not in the room. Adorable. Love that guy.




Monday, November 04, 2013

This morning.

5:45 in the morning. I'm up and putting my makeup on at the vanity in the bathroom. I'm literally 3 feet from the bathroom window when I hear crunchy leaf footsteps. Two of them, then they stop. Then heavy breaths on the window. SOMEONE IS BREATHING ON MY WINDOW!!!

I freeze. Not moving a muscle, I don't think I've listened so hard in my whole life. A million thoughts are going through my head. What do I do?! I sit and listen for about 5 seconds, then realize I can't be so quiet because whoever the hell is try to look through my window is moments away from breaking it with me sitting feet away. I jump up, run and turn every inside and outside light on that I can find. Grab the mace out of my drawer. Run to the security system panel and hold my finger on the Police alert button. If I push the button the police will come. I'm now across the house from where I first heard the person, so I have no idea if they ran after seeing the lights come on or if they're still lurking.

I waited about 1 full minute there with my finger hovering that button. I knew all the doors were locked. Now every light was on. Surely this person isn't going to still be peeking through windows, but I was still too afraid to look. Imagine me pulling back the blinds to peek out and seeing a face. Terrifying. I went back to the bedroom where I mistakenly left my phone, grabbed it, then went back to the security panel.

I called Chris, who was already at work in Atlanta and told him what happened. He said "I'm coming home." Told me to keep my mace on me and if I heard anything, to push that button and/or call 911.

Martha woke up right at the end of my phone conversation with Chris, so I calmed myself down as much as I could and went to her bedroom to get her up and ready. She saw the mace in my hand and asked me why I was holding a keychain. I stuck it in my pocket when she asked if she could hold it. Told her it was a grown up keychain and had to stay in my pocket. I forced myself into fake, chipper, everything is ok mom mode while my heart is still racing.

Chris got home right before it was time for me to leave with the kids. He drove around the neighborhood and didn't see anything weird. Looked around our house and nothing looked strange. He's going to work from home today so he can go get some motion detected flood lights to put in on his lunch break. We're also going to finally put up our Security yard signs and window stickers, which we should have done weeks ago.

If someone broke in, the alarm would have gone off. So I'm thankful for that. But it's still unnerving to hear breaths on your window that early in the morning when it's dark outside and you're home with your two sleeping children. Good Lord.

Monday, October 07, 2013

Dear Braves...

My Dearest Braves,

I love you.

Ok, I got that out of the way.

We have had a long history together. Growing up in Nashville, I loved you because my Dad and brothers loved you. When we moved to Atlanta when I was 12 years old, that love only grew stronger because distance was no longer a factor in our relationship. But it wasn't until I was in my early 20's that I actually started putting effort into what we have together. That might have something to do with the fact that I lived within walking distance of Turner Field for a while. (I called in sick to work one day to go see a game with my roommate....Shhhhhhhhhhh.)

Sure, we've had our ups and downs. Last years "Infield fly" debacle in the wildcard game. Oof! Too soon? Not your fault though, so I'm not placing blame.

I feel like we need to channel 1995. I mean, obviously that was a great year. Love was in the air, you brought home the World Champion Title, and everything was right in the world. I feel like both you and I were feeling really good about where things were headed in the years to come.

But I was wrong, Braves. I was very wrong. My heart was broken in 1996, and again in 1999. We got so close, but you were pulling away for some reason. There was no spark. No World Championship Trophy. (It's not about tangible things, I know! - But do you see how that trophy shinessssss? You used to know how to spoil me.)

Listen, Braves. Honey. Sweetie. We can get through this together. You think it might be too late for us, but it's not! Let's talk tonight. Does 9:37pm work for you? The kids will already be in bed. We can hash things out with no distractions.

I love you, Braves. Let's work things out.

This is why we chop,
Shaunna

Friday, May 31, 2013

A letter to myself. Get in the bathtub.

Shaunna,
First of all, congratulations on the kids. Adorable. Seriously, you're good at procreation. Secondly, take a bath. I know that sounds silly. No but really...take a bath. Fill the tub with lavender epsom salt hot water goodness, put on some old school Bright Eyes (shut up), and just lay there. Here's what's going to happen...

You're going to relax. Not like how you relax by watching a show while you get some Etsy orders done after the kids have gone to bed. (BTDubbs, that's not relaxing, but I get it - it has to be done.) You're going to realize that you've not REALLY relaxed like that in about 4 years. Since before you were pregnant with Martha. Sure, you've gone out and had fun. You've laid on the couch and watched tv. But this bath will ease your body down to the bones.

While you're laying there, a funny thing will happen. You'll look down at your feet propped up and remember that picture you posted on Myspace of your feet in the tub back when you were 22 and had just gotten out of a 2.5 year relationship and you'll laugh. That was during those 4 months that you lived in Marietta in the super nice house with Clara Culpepper whom you never saw again after you moved out except for that one time at Kevin Horan's job at that one bar where all you can remember is there was a lot of champagne.

Then your eyes will stray from your feet and you'll see your mushy, 2 baby having, stretch marked stomach and again you'll laugh. You're not crazy about it, but you really don't mind that stomach. It'll never, ever, ever look the way it did when you were 22 again, but you'll never, ever, ever care because you have 2 crazy amazing kids that you grew in there. That you GREW IN YOUR BODY, WOMAN! I mean.

So, you'll soak in that water. You'll listen to The Arc of Time. You'll hear those lyrics and you'll know that you are who you are when you're supposed to be that person. You were the girl that took the bathtub picture of your tattooed feet. Now you're the girl with the mushy belly and happy family. Neither is wrong. There is a place and a time for everything.

You can make a plan
Carve it into stone
Like a feather falling
That is still unknown

Until the clock speaks up
Says it’s time to go
You can choose the high
Or the lower road

You might clench your fist
You might fork your tongue
As you curse or praise
All the things you’ve done

And the faders move
And the music dies
As we pass over
On the arc of time


When the song is over, get up and out of the bath. Now take a shower because you haven't washed your hair in 3 days and your teething 7 month old will be waking up soon. Chop chop.

Love,
Shaunna

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Bad People

As much as I complain about the difficulties of raising a strong willed little girl, Martha is so sweet and funny and smart it amazes me.

Yesterday after work Chris and I packed a dinner and took the kids to the park. Martha played for a little while but then needed a diaper change. I took her up to the bathrooms and was going potty myself when she started to unlock the stall door.

Me: Martha, close that door and lock it back.
Martha: Why?
Me: Because it's dangerous.
Martha: Why?
Me: Because there are some bad people in the world that might want to steal you.
Martha: But sometimes there are good people that don't want to steal me.
Me: Yes, that's true, but we just have to be careful. Now lock the door, I'm peeing.

As everyone knows, there were 2 bombs that went off at the Boston Marathon yesterday afternoon. Reports were still coming out when we were at the park, so the conversation with Martha was fitting. I'm always weary because there are bad people in the world that want to hurt people, steal kids, destroy lives, etc. But then there's the good people that want to help and save and keep people safe.

I'm glad Martha sees the good.





Monday, April 15, 2013

I work too hard to be ballin' on a budget.

I mentioned in my last post that I was starting on a new project. Since then, I've started 2 etsy stores. Only one has been successful. I've made almost $500 in 2 months. Not too shabby. Half of that was replacing start-up costs though, so I'm just now starting to see the fruits of my labor. It's nice to have a steady extra income that allows me to live semi-freely with random/small/last minute/unplanned purchases. The majority of what I sell are stencils. I offer some random vinyl decals, but let me tell you....I hate working with vinyl. There's too much room for error and too many steps to the finished product. I like the end result but it's a pain in the butt to get there. Stencils are easy. You make the design, you send it to the machine, the machine cuts, you package it up, you're done. With vinyl there's weeding, transfer tape, blah blah blah. Daniel, you can have it. As long as there are DIY-ers and crafters, people will want my stencils. And luckily, there's not a plethera of options for stencils (especially not custom ones like I offer) on etsy right now, so just by having my prices $1 less than my competitors (which still allows for a healthy profit), I'm getting the majority of the orders from what I've seen.

The first few weeks of doing this etsy store I was working out the kinks and staying up WAY too late EVERY night. I had to set limits or I was going to become a zombie. I only do orders every other day now after the kids go to bed. The other days I try to get on the treadmill or finish up other random projects around the house.

Speaking of other projects... I finally pulled the trigger on painting the bathroom. It's been cheap beige since we moved in 4 years ago. Boooooy does cheap beige paint get dirty around lightswitches and toddler height spaces. I picked the color the other day and Chris painted yesterday. I love it! The new shower curtain, cabinet, mirror frame, and pictures are ready to go up as soon as I make sure the paint is set in. (I've learned my lesson of putting up a shower curtain rod too soon after painting. Don't look in my other bathroom.)

Now let's talk about the important stuff. My kids.

Abel will be 6 months old tomorrow!!!
Martha will be 3 years old 2 days later!!!

Frilly, girly, pink, sparkles and princess party is happening on Saturday with family and a few close friends. Matha has her special princess dress, tiara, and jewelry picked out. She's going to freak at her princess cake too. Never did I ever think I'd be throwing a princess party. Lord help me.

Abel is a rolling over fool these days. He can roll all over and scoot himself around in circles. Crawling will be soon. He likes to grab beards, hair, and faces mostly, and man he grabs hard.

We're still working on Martha's potty training. We've stressed the whole "you're turning 3 and 3 year olds pee in the potty" aspect of it. She will go in the potty every day, but it's never every time, every day. It'll happen when it happens, and I'm not worried about it. I feel like it'll be very soon and thank god I can stop buying diapers for her.

Look at these fools. So adorable on Easter. Martha loves Abel so much. She still sometimes smothers him and I have to make her give him some space.