It's just minutes before ten. My stomach is in knots, my heart is physically aching and my mind is racing with a million what-ifs. I've never experienced anything like this before and I'm afraid to close my eyes for the night. Because what if....

Just a few hours ago I tried my hardest to put on a happy facade. "Are you okay?" My husband asked sensing something was off. "Not really." I dragged my heavy feet across the country earth and made mental notes of the surroundings. "It's time to bid your campers a good night." The counselor smiled. I tried to find my older two amidst the crowd of ecstatic children racing throughout the camp site. "Lola! Jay! Hug and kiss good-night!" After peeling them off of their fellow campers I managed to plant two kisses each and one tight hug good-night. And I left my children, those that I carried right under my heart for months, in an Ohio field without me for one night.

No books. No cuddles. Not even a tickle or two. No prayers said. No teeth brushed. Not even the "good-night" song I invented years ago to steal an extra minute of alone time was sung. No outlet for proper good-nights.

My son's parting words to me, "Remember when I was four and you made me go to that preschool day camp? I cried all the time but ended up liking it. I never told you this but I would run to the window to see if your car was still there. And Mom you were so fast - the car would always be gone! And I was always okay. Go home Mom, we are okay."

When did my kid get the permission to out smart me?

I am not okay. It's now ten minutes to eleven and I wonder if they are awake or if they've had too many smores or if they got any new mosquito bites tonight that I do not know about because I can't walk into their rooms to check. Their bedroom doors are wide open and empty.  I've checked on their rooms twice okay, three times. And on twitter Marinka said that there are UFOs in the midwest and Melisa told me to say good-night without showing them that I am freaking out and Anthony said it's a great way to build confidence and foster independence.  I nodded my head to two out of three of those and emailed the camp director (with an iPhone) right after my husband purchased a 24 ounce Bud Light at a gas station, for me.

Dear Outdoors Camp,

Just wondering how my kiddos are doing.  Someone just mentioned there are strange things going on in the midwest so I wanted to check in.  I will be up for some time... please feel free to email me.

Pauline

It's 11:21 and no one has replied to my email.  No one has called.  My children are sleeping in a polyester coffin of a sleeping bag instead of their perfect cotton sheets. I'm not there to check in on them.

It's 11:30 and my cell phone just rang!  Wait..... It's not the camp.  It's my brand-new-brother-in-law asking my dentist-husband about my sister's impacted tooth.

It's ten minutes to midnight....  I am so proud they made it this far.  ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz....  I'm exhausted.

***

It's now ten after midnight.  And I just got an email...

Dear Pauline,

Sorry took so long to respond. They are doing great & all the kids tried out the smores. Have a good night!

Warmly,

Outdoors camp

Is it safe to go to sleep now?  Stay tuned....

****

It's 12:53 AM. CAMP CALLED!  Husband just left the house to pick up the middle child.  Apparently she is so tired she's speaking gibberish and wants to come home.  They will have a flashlight entourage on the country side road waiting for his arrival.  Son is asleep in tent.  Stay tuned....

***

It's ten to eight and both children are under my roof now.  My little guy, the one that used to cry at preschool camp, made it all night at the camp-out.  I am extremely proud and told him so a dozen times.  The car ride home was filled with stories.  I can't wait for my daughter to wake up to hear her version.