I’m so Verklempt! - By Cara Potapshyn Meyers

Definition: Verklempt - a Yiddish expression of being overcome with emotion.

Living in the outskirts of New York City, and in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, I hear this Yiddish expression quite often. I believe it was even used in a Seinfeld episode once to explain Elaine’s overwhelmed state of mind! I, too, am verklempt! There really is no better word to use to explain this complex feeling. A mixture of anxiety, feeling overwhelmed, maxed out of your energy, bordering almost at feeling unable to cope. That’s Verklempt!

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about the upcoming changes summer would bring. Particularly the ending of school and beginning of day camp for my son. Well, I dug out and through the pool bags. Tossed the old sunscreens, bug sprays, etc., restocked with fresh supplies. Dragged out the old, ratty towels and wrote my son’s name on them with black, permanent laundry marker. I found his camp shirts from previous years and was thrilled that the small ones just fit! I even bought these great stick on clothing labels to put into every item my son needs to take to camp. Here I was, thinking I was way ahead of the game until today, the first day of camp. Now I am verklempt with emotion thinking of all that still needs to be done! Starting with a fresh load of laundry!

My son came home with a soggy backpack filled with his wet towel and soaking wet bathing suits. Uh oh...forgot to send in plastic bags to put the wet items in. Oh well, no harm done. I’m sure the backpack will dry out by tomorrow morning. Then, as I was tossing my son’s wet bathing suit and SPF shirt into the washing machine, I realized that although I have enough bathing suits to get my son through a full week, I do not have enough SPF shirts!! I bought the only ones my son will wear (due to his sensory disorder) at a greatly reduced price, at the end of the season last year, but only purchased a few. I need at least 10. And at the peak of the season, this brand of SPF shirts are outrageous in price. They are seamless...they have no seams at all. It is the seams that bother my son to the point where he will just rip the shirt off and not bother to apply sunscreen on his exposed skin. So do I risk my husband’s wrath and shell out the money to buy shirts I know my son will wear? Or do I buy less expensive shirts, have them worn once and then tossed aside, only to be given away to someone else? Oy, I’m so verklempt!

Then we come to socks. Again, with my son’s sensory issues, he will only wear socks from one particular store. I have gone to 3 of these stores and looked on their internet site, only to find out that they are completely sold out of every color except black in my son’s size. My son has to wear a blue shirt to camp every day...couldn’t they have at least had blue? No blue at all. Only black. So I bought several pairs of black hoping others would think they were very dark blue. Oy vey.

Our next issue is my son’s upcoming birthday party in about a month. I still have to address and send out the invitations. I bought some of the party supplies. But the biggest issue is regarding one friend my son wants to invite. My son adores this friend. My husband loathes this kid due to some past indiscretions. My son has been begging my husband to invite this friend. My husband is literally threatening me with legal action if I invite this kid. Aghhhhh!!! Verklempt, verklempt, verklempt!!! Where is Calgon when you need it to take you away??

And, of course, why don’t we top it off with my son’s “birthday wish list.” I must admit, my son has very good taste. However, every item on my son’s list costs at least $50!! I tried to gently explain to my son that most people cannot afford to spend that amount of money on a birthday gift. It’s not sinking in. My creative son has come up with 100 different ways that guests can chip in and buy my son what he wants. I tried to explain that you can’t “tell” guests how to go about giving you the gifts you want. Guests make their own choices and you just have to hope to get what you want...or at least close to it. My son is just not “getting” it. He is “hyperfocused”(see last week’s blog for definition) on what he wants and only what he wants!!!! I’m so verklempt!!!

Since none of these things is a major catastrophe, only a miscellany of inconvenience, I think a dose of perceptiveness is really all I need. I mostly went through my son’s closet and replaced the heavy clothes for the lighter ones. I’m packing up my son’s second grade work and boxing it up to look through in the future. The one thing I haven’t quiet gotten to fully is my own closet. The cashmeres are still mixed among the sleeveless cotton shirts. But I did identify many items to give away. I also purchased some new summer clothing that will actually fit, so progress is being made.

I think I just need to sit down to a nice, cold iced coffee and bagel with just a shmear of cream cheese. That oughta do the trick!

You are Invited to Attend

My son’s birthday was this past Friday. We had his birthday celebration on Saturday, which happened to also be MY birthday! It was at a gorgeous local pool, and the weather was the best we have had in weeks! Warm enough to swim; cool enough to relax in the shade, and no humidity! We had a perfect birthday on a perfect day!

What irks me, though, is that I have found that year after year, I always have to hunt down parents who fail to respond to the invitations I send out. I always send them out about a month before the party date, because I know families are busy during the summer months, or go away. I additionally put not only my phone number, but also my e-mail address on the invite so that for someone like me, who has limited time to chitchat, the parent can send out a quick e-mail message indicating whether their child can attend or not.

This year was the worst. Not only did I have to make multiple calls during the week before the party, the parents whom I did get in touch with gave me some of the most ridiculous responses. For instance, one Mom said that she would have to get back to me closer to the day of the party because if the weather was nice. She wanted to take the family to the beach. When I mentioned that adults were welcome to swim at the pool and that her son could even bring his brother along, she said she still was not sure. She ended up e-mailing me late the night before the party to say that her son couldn’t come.

Then there was the Mom who said that her daughter had a party to go to on the same day and that if her daughter wasn’t having fun at the first party, she would leave that party and come to my son’s. She never showed so I assume her daughter was having a good time at the other party.

And finally, one mother wanted to know if another particular child was going. She said that she would not let her son go if the other boy would be attending, because the two boys don’t like each other. When I said that the other boy’s parents hadn’t responded yet, she said to give her a call when they do, and that if the other boy was not coming, she would let her son come. (Incidentally, neither boy came because I never heard back from the first one, so I didn’t have any information to give the second one.)

There were also the no-shows. Mom’s who said that their sons would definitely be there but ended up MIA. And there were no follow-up calls indicating why the boys didn't come! To make this particular incident even more outrageous, one family happens to live six houses from the pool!! I just don’t get it.

Has the world become so bogged down with so much to keep track of that they can’t leave a simple message on the phone or through e-mail? I will give one Mom a little credit. She called me back very quickly after I called her home to see whether her daughter would be coming to the party. She apologized profusely and said that she had the party invitation in her pocketbook with the intent to RSVP, but the invitation got swallowed up inside her bag. At least she was carrying the invite around with her!

Until I can figure out a system that will work better, so that I am not scrambling to put goody bags together at the last minute with an undetermined head count, I guess I’ll be flying around, flapping my wings to make sure that I have everything ready, no matter who shows up or not. And I do want to thank those parents who actually did RSVP in a timely manner! One Mom even offered to come early and help set up! Two thumbs up for that Mom! Although I did decline her generous offer.

In the end, as stressful as putting a party together can be, the most important thing is that the kids had a great time! My son was ecstatic, and I had a terrific birthday, chatting with many of the Moms who are also my friends, while basking in the glow of my son’s happiness!

What more could I ask for on my birthday??

My Son is Turning Seven!

It all began 7 years ago, on a Tuesday evening at exactly 9:20 pm - according to my watch next to my bedside. I was reading a book, a Harry Potter book in fact, thinking, “It’s okay if I start this book now, I’ll have plenty of time during maternity leave to read the rest of it while the baby sleeps.” Well, my baby had other plans. And Harry’s story was left unread.

I had a relatively uneventful pregnancy. Especially considering that I was an “older” maternity patient at 39 with my first pregnancy. I saw my high-risk doctors regularly. I never developed gestational diabetes, which they all thought I was doomed to get. They also thought I was headed for pre-eclampsia (dangerously high blood pressure in a pregnant woman) since my blood pressure was slightly elevated at the start of my pregnancy. Never happened. In fact, about the only significant thing about my pregnancy (except for periodic night legs cramps which make you want to scream bloody murder at the top of your lungs as you massage the cramp out), was that I had real, but random, contractions, starting at 34 weeks gestation. The doctors wanted me to reach 37 weeks gestation so that the baby’s lungs would be fully mature, so I was placed on “modified bed rest” and went to the doctor’s office every other day to undergo fetal monitoring.

I met their goal of 37 weeks, but I wanted my son to be born closer to 40 weeks. See, his due date was 2 days before my 40th birthday. I wanted him to be my 40th birthday present. I would never need another present again for my birthday for the rest of my life! I wanted him to be IT! However, I also didn’t want him to be born ON my birthday. I wanted his birthday to be his and his alone. I didn’t want him to feel that he had to “share” his special day, even with his mother. I prayed that he was not born after me, because then the excitement of celebrating Mommy’s birthday may overshadow his own, especially at the age he is now - the grade school years. When birthdays are magical and completely eventful and young children want it to be THEIRS, and theirs alone!

My daily prayers were finally going to be answered that fateful Tuesday evening, August 5th, 2003. My own 40th birthday was 2 days away. At 9:20pm, the first of many contractions began. I didn’t wake my husband because I knew he needed the rest for the long day ahead. So I monitored, and practiced my labor breathing techniques all night long. Finally, around 5:30 am, the contractions were 5 minutes apart and I needed my husband to call the doctor. Our son was ready to be born! Oh how I prayed he would be born that day, Wednesday, August 6th!

After 23 hours of labor, 3:45 minutes before my 40th birthday, at 8:15 pm, my gift arrived! A gift like no other I have ever had or ever will have! And he came on the best day possible, the day before MY birthday!

Every year since, when I celebrate my son’s birthday, it is as if I am celebrating my own! The planning of his parties, the invitations, the party favors, the balloons!! I have not one ounce of resentment nor care that my own birthday is the one overshadowed or overlooked! This is EXACTLY what I wanted! So…to my son who will be celebrating his 7th birthday this Friday, Happy Birthday, my precious, beautiful, amazing boy!! I love you with all my heart, and much more! My gift!