It was an odd sensation, sitting in front of an airline departure area when I wasn't going anywhere.

Instead, I was waiting to say goodbye to my 11-year-old, who was as eager to embark on his adventure as I was to hold on to him just a little bit longer.

"Can you leave?" he whispered, as we waited for the class to ready themselves to go through security.

"Just go hang out with your friends," I responded. "I just want to make sure that you get through safely."

"I will after you leave," he hissed.

I stood ... or rather, sat my ground and made excuses. "I don't want to have to come back here if things go wrong," I said.

He didn't buy it. Nor should he have, I suppose. It was pretty clear at that point that things were going perfectly.

It's so hard to let go, though.

When I was in the sixth grade, my class went away for one night for camping at an "outdoor lab," which I suppose is the nearest equivalent my school district had to taking kids out to Camp Erdman or Mokule'ia.

There was no jetting off for a whirlwind tour of all the historical sites we learned about in social studies. True, I lived in Virginia, where many of the historical sites were a short bus ride away, but still ... I don't even remember going to southern Virginia with my class, which would have given us a better taste of colonial and Confederate Virginia.

For all the talk about how sheltered and overprotected kids are today, these kinds of trips seem pretty common.

As I complained about the expense to other parents, they commiserated, telling me about their own childrens' trips to other parts of the Mainland or even out of the country.

How do we do it? We arm our kids with cell phones so that we aren't out of touch even when they're just a couple miles away, then we send them off — with those same cell phones — and let them travel thousands of miles away. Why? Because to deny them such a great opportunity means keeping them sheltered and overprotected.

It's pretty crazy.

I'm not used to ceding so much control. I drove my son nuts as I tried to explain to him exactly how I packed things: each day's clothes packed into a separate bag, labeled so he'd know which pair of socks to wear on what day. I packed snacks, and then bought more snacks, just in case. I bought a reloadable Visa debit card so I can add money if he needs it, and I put little stashes of cash in different places, just in case something goes wrong with the card. He wasn't thrilled when I then proceeded to attach his wallet to his backpack so it wouldn't fall out, but I thought it was better not to take chances.

In the end, my son was so bored with my constant quizzing that I felt like a mother hen, but it was the only way I could stop myself from being a nervous wreck in front of him.

When I saw his bright smile as he walked off toward the security checkpoint, I was glad that I'd held it together.

He's going to be fine.

Me? I might need some Super Glue, but I think I'll keep from falling apart while he's gone.

When she's not being a reporter, Treena Shapiro is busy with her real job, raising a son and daughter. A blogger at www.honoluluadvertiser.com, she is constantly on the hunt for child-rearing tips, family-friendly activities and amusing anecdotes. She'll share the best and the worst here and encourages you to do the same.