revisiting camping...

This weekend we pseudo camped... we headed up to Lucas's parents house in the woods of New Hampshire, pitched a tent in the yard, and hoped for a peaceful night. 

Paige made it in the tent until 2am.

It reminded me of our first camping experience, nearly two years ago. I wrote a post on the old blog about that camping trip and the joys that came from the horrid night of little sleep. I woke up this morning with that post on my mind, and wanted to share it again here :)

(Yesterday afternoon, after the tent and sleeping bags were packed up, I asked the kids if they wanted to go real camping next month. They both said yes. I looked at Paige, reminded her we'd be in a tent, and she started shaking her head and said "Nope. No camping. No. No. No.")

Blanket of clouds

It's been nearly a month since our first family camping adventure, and reminders linger. The camping coffee cups are on my dresser, as they missed the packing boat while hanging out in the dishwasher. The sweatshirts acquired at the Hobo Railroad have been worn the past week or so, as temperatures are feeling fall'ish and cheeks come in from walks rosy and chilled.

And the memories keep coming back.

As I alluded in my camping post, Paige had a sleepless first night in the tent.

She was restless and woke screaming every few hours, much to our and our neighbors dismay. The campground was full, and at one point she woke and I heard murmurs of "Those people who think it's okay to bring babies camping..." and my campfire hair and mama bear heart picked up my two year old, and stumbled around in the dark trying to find keys and shoes.

I whispered to Paige, asked her if she wanted to go for a drive with mama. She said the most pitiful yes I've ever heard. We walked quietly out to the Volvo, and I smelled the sweetness of her warm neck as I buckled her into the carseat.

We stepped from a full darkness, heavy with judgement, into the solitude of a wagon filled with our weekend supply of sustenance.

And I drove.

Out of the campground I fumbled to find a bag of pretzels, filled a bowl and handed them back to the wide awake little one. Our hands touched as she grabbed the bowl, hers warm and soft, mine cold and shaky.

It was 4:30am, which I remember being thankful for {at least it wasn't only 2...} and telling myself there was no way we could show ourselves back at the campground until at least 7. I hoped and sent up a little prayer that we could find an open coffee shop, and that Paige would sleep.

By the time we made it into town, Dunkin Donuts was opening, and we were the first customers in line at 5am. Paige was wide eyed as we went through the drive thru, the lady behind the window offering a sympathetic smile as we joked that we'd both had better mornings.

Coffee in hand, we hit the quiet, open, dimly lit road again. Through the ski resorts, the mountains, the quiet diners that were only starting to breathe life into sleepy towns.

The sky lightened, and Paige's eyes got heavier. I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard the pretzels hit the floor, and I smiled when I glanced back and saw her sitting with closed eyes. She fell asleep as quietly as she had stared out the window. From two feet away my heart was warmed by her fleecy footed pajamas.

We drove North on a curvy highway, through and up mountains, down valleys. The sky, which had been overcast and dark as we drove away from our campsite, opened to a brilliant rainbow of colors, the sun made a brief appearance. A morning symphony, sung over the quiet hum of our car.

The radio never made a peep.

The brilliance of the hues was tattooed on my memory.

Moments later a blanket of clouds was pulled over the mountains, covering purples that bled into pinks. Never before had I seen such a sight, felt the hand of something, someone, pulling covers over the earth.

I felt calm and peace as I looked into the rear view mirror, and saw Paige's eyes open briefly to catch a glimpse of the disappearing palate of a sunrise. Our eyes locked for a moment before hers fluttered shut. In a shared glance, that peace was acknowledged and shared.

Thoughts of God filled my head for the first time in a while. As Paige and I drove for what seemed like endless moments, my soul woke from a routine putting off and not now and eventually we'll figure it all out place... He's been on my heart ever since, a renewed passion and longing for and curiosity.

A little while later my girl woke to rain drops on the windows. In a tiny voice she asked sweetly "Coffee for daddy?" so we turned around and headed back down a mountain and through a valley to Dunkins. She stared and spoke sweet good mornings and wonders and about outer space.

We gathered warmth and took our car of sustenance back to the campsite, where an eager little camper and his daddy were waking, waiting for hot cocoa and pumpkin bread. Ready for a day of rainy camping adventures, train rides, and memories that are with us today.