Camping!

Drew is away in Wisconsin at his friend Jack's 50th birthday party, part of which involves camping. He left Thursday morning and returns Saturday night. He took our tent and a sleeping bag.

With him camping, Rachel announced that SHE wanted to camp, too -- in our backyard. I didn't pay much attention until she threw herself on the ground in despair Thursday night when I told her she probably couldn't camp because there was rain in the forecast (and, indeed, it sprinkled as we began walking home), but then while I was getting dinner ready (made with herbs from the herb garden I planted; there is NOTHING like fresh, home-grown herbs in food) she dragged out the pink castle tent that Tia Daniella and family gave her for Hanukkah last year, her pillow, blanket, a bunch of stuffed animals and a book DOWN THE STAIRS AND OUTSIDE, and then I knew she was serious.

When I told her that I intended to sleep inside, she told me she'd be scared if I wasn't next to her, and, truth be told, I felt a little weird with the idea of me being inside while she was outside, so I said sure. (Keep in mind that I had no tent.) So, I pulled on a pair of heavy jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and socks, laid out a blanket and then my sleeping back on top, and lay down next to Rachel. The night was quite warm (although on the way to cooling down, thank goodness) and the dog next door decided to bark -- to the point that I dearly wished I could shoot him -- and the damn trains kept running until past midnight. I dozed lightly until midnight until I felt as if the bugs were getting to me, so I got up, sprayed myself with bug spray all over, then tried to get back to sleep.

As I tossed and turned on the grass, trying to get comfortable, I flashed back to the times that Dad slept out on the beach at Cape Cod with me and Daniella. (Mom insisted on staying in back in the rental cabin in Chatham.) I could imagine how he felt -- bugs probably biting him, and he had two girls to keep track of, not one -- but I don't remember him ever complaining. If he could do it with two kids, I could do it with one, I told myself, and so I dozed in and out of sleep until 2:30 a.m., 6, 7, and 7:30, when I finally tapped softly on Rachel's window of her tent and said, "Rachel, honey, time to wake up."

We went upstairs and cuddled on her bed for a bit, and I managed to barely get her out of the house in time for school (it was the last day). I then went through the morning like a total zombie and pulled an epic Mommy fail -- I thought I was an hour behind where I really was, which meant I didn't show up to help in her classroom when they did water-based games. I was so busy getting through the morning -- making strawberry bread for her last tee-ball practice, talking to Mom and Dad on the phone, showering because I had to head downtown to interview someone for a magazine story, checking e-mail, etc. that I ended up thinking I had an hour more than I did.

Luckily, Rachel did not seem to be bothered too much by my absence. When I picked her up from school, she said, "Why weren't you there to help us change out of our bathing suits?" I explained, at Drew's suggestion, that camping had left me exhausted and I couldn't get to class in time to do what I had promised and that I felt awful. "It's okay, Mom, I just wondered," she said dismissively, and that was that.