Balancing Act by Konnie Enos

Okay, the middle of the night I roll over and the bed is empty. I find my husband on his computer, totally stressing out. It’s well after midnight on the first and his money hasn’t appeared in his account and we have less than an eighth of a tank of gas in the car, and it’s a school day.

After groggily telling him at least three times that the money would be there when I checked, IN THE MORNING, and listening to him moan about the amount of money that was in the account, I finally told him everything over a certain amount was gas money and hadn’t been spent yet and since it was more than enough for to fill our tank he had nothing to worry about.

He left, at two in the morning, to fill the gas tank. I went back to sleep.

And, following my usual routine, I got up at my normal school day hour, motivated our sons then started checking my emails and eventually verified his deposit, at a much more reasonable hour. It was, of course there.

I understand there is always a yin and yang to things but that one event just illustrated how different my husband and I are.

He doesn’t handle the finances in our household. There are many reasons for this but mainly because he’s never been able to figure out how to get all the bills and necessities covered, let alone keeping track of everything. I can do both.

Even half awake at two o’clock in the morning, I knew just from the amount he was telling me that was in the account that only one item was outstanding and how much it was for. Even though I was too asleep to fully comprehend what he was saying, I was still cognizant enough to let him know he had more than enough to get the gas he was so worried about.

On the other hand my husband was stressing out because his monthly deposit of a few thousand dollars wasn’t in his account so he was looking at a balance of only a few hundred dollars and we needed less than thirty to fill our gas tank.

That’s not saying I don’t stress.

For me it’s missing things. Sometimes I’m perfectly fine with it. I’ll look, do my best to find it, then figure it will eventually either show up or it’s gone forever. Other times, it’s pure panic. I absolutely have to have my keys, my brush. If my glasses go missing, well I can’t find those on my own and I absolutely need those.

Yeah, kids come tear apart mom’s side of the room, she’s in panic mode because she can’t find this one item.

I’ve been known to go into full out panic, screaming, fussing, crying even fighting, because something I need isn’t where I think it should be and I can’t find it.

Now my husband on the other hand has never flown off the handle because he can’t find something, even something he needs.

So that yin and yang thing. In a lot of ways we balance each other out.

Even in rearing our kids we do that.

He’s this completely overprotective dad and I’m far more reasonable, after all our youngest is pushing sixteen now. He tends to lecture and I tend to listen.

Life is always a balancing act.

But then I guess I’ve always known that.

Being a twin is being yin and yang too. My sister and I balance each other out.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

Yin and Yang 2

My memories of grade school were of always protecting Konnie, however, I never thought her shyness would cause me any difficulties once we entered junior high. Though honestly, I didn’t really experience any glitches in seventh grade, since that year, the only guy who ever talked to me in the halls was the president of the student body who, for some strange reason took a liking to me on sight.

He just didn’t realize until around the middle of the year that two girls were ignoring his come ons. But I didn’t have a problem.

The first time I realized I had a problem with Konnie’s shyness was in eighth grade. That wasn’t until several months into the school year when I entered my third period class and a ninth grade boy in that class didn’t say hi to me for the first time all year. For next several days, every time I tried to catch his eye, he looked away.

I so wanted to know what was wrong, but my fourth period class was completely at the other end of the three-story building, I barely had enough time to make it to class before the tardy bell rang, and I never saw Greg (the guy in third period) at any other time during the day.

Then, a few days later, instead of fourth period, there was an assembly. Since there was no fear of a tardy bell, I stopped him before he left the class, and asked why he was mad at me.

He told me that he’d seen me in the halls the other day and he said hi, but I ignored him. I looked him in the eye and said, “When and where?” worried I had inadvertently not seen my friend.

He told me between sixth and seventh period down by the gym. I sighed with relief. “That wasn’t me.”

“It was too. I swear!”

I told him exactly where my sixth and seventh period classes were, both on the opposite end of the building as the gym. He repeated that he was sure he saw me; I smiled and said, “I’m a twin. And she has gym seventh period.”

He groaned and apologized.

After school that day was the first time I gave Konnie my, “If a guy says hi, say hi back because I might know him,” speech. And I really enjoyed moving to that smaller school in ninth grade simply because everyone knew both of us, there was no chance of her offending some guy friend of mine, and I didn’t have to worry about Konnie roaming the halls. Then we moved.

Fortunately, none of the guys at this school took offense by me apparently ignoring them. They asked me why sometimes I smiled and said hi while other times I looked down, blushing.

I told them, “That wasn’t me.”

They didn’t want to believe me, but a couple of friends who knew us from church were present for that conversation, and they backed me up, which started the discussion on how to tell us apart. I said, “If the one you see says hi back, it’s me, if she doesn’t say hi —”

And on of our church friends said, “You both say hi to me!”

“She knows you!”

“Well, how do I tell you apart?”

“Jeez, you see us together first thing in the morning. Figure it out!”

Anyway, despite it being a bigger school, I didn’t notice any huge problems with how shy Konnie was, but all that taught me one thing. If someone I’m sure I don’t know says hi as if they know me, I ask them how they think they know me.

And I’ve got a few fun stories of doing just that.

Anyway, that’s what being a twin is like for me.