Celebrating Remington

Our Remington turned 2 years old on Thursday.

It sounds cliche to say, "where did the time go?" But it is so true!

He ran right from snuggling babyhood into this boyland that is pretty wild and crazy at times.

As you would expect, he is very active and runs everywhere. 

His favorite place to be is outside, outside, and outside. Now that he can open doors, we have to extra vigilant as he has no problem exploring the world solo.... and without shoes.

He can transport dirt from one place to another for hours. This is such a boy thing!

Every time I look at our little man he is growing up. 

Also, showing his growing independence.... ie "mine!", throwing fits, being aggressive when he doesn't get his way, and being frustrated when he can't do things. Most of the time he would rather "do the crime and pay the fine," but with discipline he softens and says sorry -- eventually.

The look above is one he gives often when he's done something wrong. It says, "What? I wasn't aware that was unacceptable behavior." He is really smart though, and I have to remind myself that even though he doesn't talk much and gives me this innocent face, he knows exactly what he is doing.

His latest amazing trick is taking off his clothes, especially at nap time. One day last week I got him up from his nap to find him completely naked, his crib sheet off, and holes torn in his crib mattress. Perhaps we've been watching too many McGuyver reruns because I think Rem was trying to tunnel out. Not sure why he needed to take off his clothes, but the thought process doesn't need to be very deep for a 2 year old. 

I've finally found a combination of onesies and backwards cloth diapers that he can't get out of. And a tighter crib sheet. Unless he takes a Swiss Army tool to bed, we're safe for awhile.

His vocabulary is still slowly coming along.

We get a kick out of his excited exclamations about every truck ("truck"), tractor ("truck" or "papa"), train ("truck"), and air plane ("plane") that he sees.

"What's that?" and "I un know," are his only phrases.

"Daddy" is the word I hear most all day long as Remington sees things that remind him of Daddy from white pick-ups, the sound of diesel engines, tractors driving by the house, to dirt and lawn mowers. He is such a Daddy's boy. I like to get him up in the morning because it is the only time I'll get a hug from the little mover. Even then, he snuggles for about 3 seconds and then pops his head up and says, "Daddy?"

Our growing boy is now 34 1/2 inches tall, 6 inches in height in 6 months.

He is tall and skinny, making clothes hard to fit. His 2T one piece jammies are stretched to capacity, and I bought him 3T for his birthday -- they fit perfectly. Crazy!

All his 2T pants are also too short (suddenly). I'm still so thankful for the abundance of hand-me downs from my sister's boys, my cousin's son, and a few friends who also gave generously. I sort through the clothes often trying to find things that fit and are the right season. We keep him looking pretty handsome. :)

We celebrated Remington's birthday with a quick trip away as a family and I did a lot of staring at our funny boy and reflecting on how precious he is. How did we live without this addition to our family? His entertainment at the table, dancing with the girls, easy giggles, and excited zeal for life are just amazing to us. We are so, so, thankful for our Remington James.

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The New Camp Comfort!!

The end of September marked Camp Comfort's 3-year birthday! So, nearly 750 posts later, I thought it was about time we update the blog a little....

New site.
New design.
New fun!

The new Camp Comfort is already up and running, so I hope you'll go check it out! There are a couple "works in progress" (new features, sponsorship opportunities, etc.) - Lot's of exciting things to come. I would love to hear what you think of the new design.

Also! Don't forget to update your readers and RSS feeds with the new address... hellocampcomfort.com. You'll still be able to access the Blogger archives here, but there will be no new posts on Blogger.

Thank you to everyone for reading over the past few years... And here's to freshness!
xo,
Roberta Jane Read More.. Read More..

Trusting God With My Most Precious

Posted on Drops (Monday)




Like the scary part of a city, there are topics my brain avoids thinking about. Or maybe it is my heart avoiding things. Too scary, too many unwanted emotions.



Losing a child is one of those topics.As a devout Christian I know my children are a gift from the Lord. They belong to Him and are treasures to care for, but not to own. I can neither control the breaths that pass from their lungs or the beating of their hearts, God numbers our days (Job 14:5).

Since I do everything I can to not think about trusting God with the lives of my children, it took a sweet lady picking blueberries next to me to bring up the subject. I knew this woman from my former church. A decade had passed since I talked with her last, but she talked with ease and grace. Jesus' peace emanated from her and I found myself smiling as she chatted about her life and asking about mine. She delighted in my children and remembered fondly the days when her 5 children were young.



As we talked, she mentioned 3 children, not 5.



 "Where are your other 2 children?" I asked naively.



 "With the Lord dear. Our God is so good. He allowed us to have them for a time and those moments were so precious." She told me that one of her daughters died at age 17 from a terrible illness and another daughter died in middle-age from a painful disease.



I left the blueberry patch, the scary topic I avoided was swirling relentlessly through my mind.



 Could I trust God's goodness like that? Did I want to? I felt as though my vigilant worry over my children belonged to me -- the right of a mother. My heart argued with this new idea. How to trust God with my children's lives.



 I shared lunch with my husband the same day and I told him about my revelations, more like struggling thoughts. "I want to trust Him, but I just can't." I saw his eyes mist too. He shared my sentiments. These children, OUR children, were too dear to let go of. Even into the arms of an all-knowing, all-powerful, loving God.



 I got ready to leave and go to our home about 4 miles away from the main farm. I gathered the precious children who consumed my thoughts. One, two..... where is three? I searched the farm yard yelling my oldest, Emma's, name for a few minutes. My father-in-law joined the search, then I made frantic calls on my cell phone to everyone else working in the area. "Have you seen her? Where is she?"



 Absolute panic mounted as the minutes passed. Did she go on the road? Is she hurt? Did someone take her? The prayers whirled franticly. "Jesus no! Don't take her. Let us find her safe. I can't live without her. Jesus no. Jesus no. Jesus no." There were no thoughts about trust. No peace that passes understanding (Philippians 4:7). Just carnal fear that I was completely out of control and needed my little girl.



 It was less than 15 minutes until we found her. She was standing in our driveway, 4 miles away from where we last saw her, next to a stranger's car. A 6 year-old's impetuous decision to walk home led a mother of 2 girls to stop on the side of the road and offer Emma a ride.... just as the woman saw a man in a pick-up stopping from the other direction. The understanding woman said it just didn't seem right and she was frightened for my little girl's safety.




God was watching over my most precious.




 My hysteria took quite awhile to calm. My girl in my arms, our angel stranger thanked and hugged, I finally realized I was a million miles away from trusting God with the lives of my children.

 "How do I trust you?" I asked a benevolent Heavenly Father. Where was the peace and trust the older woman spoke of while picking blueberries? I didn't have it. I knew that for sure.



 Probably 40 or 50 decades older than me, this woman had not come to her resolutions in an instant. She probably had moments of doubt and panic and desperation as she saw not only one, but two of her children suffer and then die. Her doubts were comforted by the loving arms of a Savior. In her long life, God taught her, molded her, and guided.



 I realized many things on the day when my daughter was lost. First, that I am not in control, even when I've taken every step to lectured ad naseum about stranger-danger, given my children swimming lessons, bubble-wrapped the coffee table corners, provided carseats, and driven under the speed limit since they were born. My vigilance is useful, but not omniscient. And my endless worry is useless.



 And secondly, trusting in God for my children is a daily decision.



 I no longer avoid the tumulus topic of trusting God my most precious little ones. When my thoughts wander there, when my heart threatens to seize up in its normal controlling nature, I thank God for His goodness. I thank God for the treasured blessings He has given me to raise. I also pray for my lack of faith. I need help learning to trust. This is daily, moment to moment. Trust and growth, "Help me Lord. Help my unbelief" (Mark 9:24).

A friend just gave me Mary Beth Chapman's book, Choosing To See. On my journey to embracing God's goodness and trusting Him with everything, including the lives of my children, I know this book will be inspirational -- I'm on page 5!

 

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