#caleb rodriguez

[nonsimsical]

| Jaxon King |

..Caleb's Best Friend

@charsimatic

[lilacprettysims]

Challenge #3 @simblrsimplyforfun: Play Date with @nonsimsical

Rowan and Darcy had a play date with Amora, Caleb and Sophia!

[charsimatic]

First complete family photo together!

Getting ready for family date night.

@nonsimsical

[nonsimsical]

| Caleb Rodriguez |

..morning hike’s and fishing at their favorite spot with Dad!

@charsimatic

[nonsimsical]

| Boy’s Night |

..after hiking and fishing, Freeman and Caleb found the perfect spot to set up their tent and start cooking their dinner over a nice fire!

@charsimatic

[charsimatic]

Baby Steps

It was hard.

Every day, every hour, fighting against herself to get out of bed, to brush her hair, to eat.

It was hard to feel anything. She was empty. She had no idea how to resume a normal life after something so astronomical happened.

She had finally allowed Freeman to sleep in the bed next to her a month or so ago. The sense of normalcy calmed her, especially when her anxiety reared its ugly head. And when her nightmares became too much to handle, he was there to hold her and calm her until she felt safe enough to fall asleep. It made the depression worse, though, because she didn’t want to leave that bed. Half the time, she didn’t. When Freeman was at work and the girls were at school, she spent countless hours laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, drifting in and out of sleep because she didn’t have the motivation to do anything else. Even getting up to feed or hold Caleb sometimes was a struggle, and many times, on incredibly bad days, one text to Jaymie had her sister rushing over to help. Faye hated it. She hated feeling useless and lazy, incapable of caring for her own son.

But today was different. Today, the heavy, oppressive feeling that had been bogging her down for weeks felt a little lighter. The thought of a shower and a hot bowl of soup sounded heavenly. Maybe a little TV. Maybe she’d shave, paint her nails. Something that made her feel normal.

After a few more minutes of lying on her side, staring at the wall, she convinced herself to get up. She squinted, the perspective different after lying in bed, unmoving, for three entire days. Then she put her feet on the floor, noticing how soft the carpet below her was for the first time in a while. She stood, feeling the blood rushing through her. She inhaled, noting the smell of lavender from the diffuser Freeman had set up in their room- it was supposed to be calming and healing, good for her nightmares and anxiety. Was it helping? She stared at the diffuser, trying to recall the last nightmare she had woken up screaming from- it had been at least a week. Was she actually healing, or was this just a good week?

“She’ll have good and bad days, good and bad weeks.” The psychiatrist had told Freeman, acting as if Faye wasn’t there, able to listen and respond herself. The first emotion she had felt in weeks- anger- flashed through her. She wanted to scream “I’m human!” But she just didn’t have the energy.

“Just ride through it, help her with anything you can. She’ll heal on her own terms.”

She slowly shuffled over to the dresser, wondering what she should put on after her shower. Her hair was matted, there were food stains on her pjs, and she felt disgusting and dirty. How could Freeman sleep next to her every night without being repulsed?

She slid one of the drawers open, grabbing a clean shirt and some yoga pants. The idea of jeans made her want to crawl back into bed.

Baby steps, she thought to herself. Baby steps first, I’ll get there.

@nonsimsical

[charsimatic]

Scars

She glanced around, as if seeing the room for the first time. In truth, it was like she really was. When she had come home, she had been expecting the apartment she had left Freeman in, but he had bought a brand new house. The room was simple, with just basic furnishings, but it was cozy. She felt comfortable in here, now. Like it was home. Probably because she spent so much of her time here, laying in the bed.

Maybe.

She looked over at Caleb,making sure the noise she made hadn’t woken him up, smiling when she saw his tiny belly slowly rising and falling.She then walked into the bathroom and turned the shower on, feeling accomplished for just getting out of bed. While the water warmed up, she gently took off her pajamas she had been wearing for at least a week. She chastised herself for allowing herself to get into the condition she was in. Bad weeks were just that- REALLY bad weeks, and she hated that she became nearly incapable of doing anything with or for her family. But it was getting much, much better.

Patience.

She ran a finger over one of the scars on her stomach, frowning. That’s where they’d taken Caleb out of her almost six months ago. She hated the harsh redness of it, but it reminded her that her son was alive- living, currently asleep in his nursery. Another scar near her ribs showed where they went in to repair the puncture in her lungs- the reason why she had been required to use an oxygen machine when she slept for the first few months.

The scars on her head could no longer be seen, because of the thick layer of hair, but she knew exactly where each one was. She had run a hand over them many, many times. She sighed, running a hand through her hair- or attempting to, anyway. It was too matted to do so.

When she finally stepped into the shower, it felt heavenly. The warm water pounded at her aching muscles, the heat made goosebumps rise up on her arms and legs before settling into a pleasant heat. She let the water run over her hair, plastering it to her forehead and neck, then she grabbed the bottle of shampoo and dumped enough to wash her hair twice into her palm.

The pleasant scent of hibiscus filled the room as she massaged the shampoo into her hair, slowly running her fingers through the tangles to get rid of them. Once the shampoo was gone, she poured conditioner right onto her head and worked it through her hair, until she could smoothly run her fingers through it.

Once her hair was smooth and silky, she grabbed a loofa and poured body wash on it, scrubbing away at her skin until it was a soft pink, imaging everything that happened to her almost a year ago washing down the drain. She watched the water swirl into the drain for a while after she had rinsed off, her mind blissfully blank. She jumped out of her skin when the shower curtain opened, though, and saw Freeman staring at her with a small, crooked smile on his face.

@nonsimscal 

[charsimatic]

“You’re Up.”

“Hi.” She blinked at him, her arms raised mid-air to protect herself.

“You’re up.” He answered.

“Yeah.” He slowly reached out and brushed away a drop of water that had begun running down her forehead to her eye.

“It’s good to see. Are you hungry?”

“That was a fast shopping trip.” He shrugged, reaching over to turn the water off for her and handing her a towel.

“I wanted to get back home, make sure you were okay. So I made it quick.” He watched her wrap the towel around herself, watched water dripping from the ends of her hair, down her back and collarbone, then he looked back up at her face. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” She stepped out of the tub and grabbed another towel, wrapping it around her hair to keep it from dripping on the carpet. “I was going to make some soup…”

“I’ll make it for you.” He backed up as she stepped out of the tub, then lifted her into his arms, bridal style, and carried her back into the bedroom. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and shivered when he placed a kiss on her forehead. He set her down on the bed with a smile.

“Any particular requests for soup?” He sat down beside her, balancing himself with an arm on either side of his body.

“No, just something warm.”

“I can do that for you.” He was smiling at her again, a weird sort of sad smile.

“What?” He shook his head, pushing himself off of the bed.

“Nothing, get dressed and come downstairs when you’re ready. I’ll have that soup for you.” He kissed her forehead again softly, then stood over Caleb’s crib for a moment, smiling. He grinned at her one more time before leaving the room. Faye felt like she was an animal coming out of hiding, the way he looked at her. In a way, though, she was. The past year was a blur of hospital visits, faces, and people telling her she was strong. She didn’t feel very strong, though. She felt like getting out of bed was a chore.

Slowly, she finished drying herself off and pulled the clean shirt over her head. It was nice, but already she felt drained, as if she had just run a marathon. She pulled the towel off of her head and let it drop to the floor, promising herself she’d pick it up later. She wished she could tie her hair up in a bun like she used to be able to do, but she didn’t have the energy to find a hair tie. Instead, she fluffed it with her fingers and shrugged before heading down the stairs.

@nonsimsical