Remin-icing or Reality?


Author’s Note: This throwback tale is a testament of how things have changed and how they have stayed the same. Reminiscing reminds me to find humor every day. College life as a mom of twins doesn’t slow down, in fact it’s much like a tornado. So even when the twins, now in their terrible twos, hit hard, I am the foundation that this home is built on. Memories such as the story that follows provide reassurance.

I’m late to pick up the twins. I have a minute until there is absolutely no waiting to leave. “I can do three dishes in a minute,” I think for reassurance. As I am hurrying over ice, fresh snow is falling, and I realize I have forgotten my boyfriend’s ID. He finally started work. I run back to the house. This is where I made my second mistake—running. As I lock the door, again, I am really late and decide to haul a** to the car. I run and jump, down my walkway only to land on ice at the bottom where of course my foot comes out from under me and I drop, skinning my right knee. My favorite leggings aren’t ripped but I know it’s a good skinning thanks to the familiar burn. That’s when I notice two onlookers one, in the parking lot and the other at the mailboxes. As I quickly hobble to my feet, I can’t help but laugh. For a brief moment I am relieved I don’t know my neighbors.

I get to daycare five minutes after closing time. I like our daycare lady, she’s only been watching the twins since October, but it says a lot to a parent when my clingy daughter leans out of my arms to her instead of wailing not to be left. We both laugh as I tell her of my failed “triple axel.”

On the way home, my son sings along to the round dance CD playing in the car and I brainstorm how much time I have to get my boyfriend and cook dinner before I’ll have angry toddler twins snarling to be fed. Thank God I washed those three dishes.

After dinner, bath time is over way too soon; the floors still aren’t clean. But there is no replacing the nursing session before bed. At least not while I’m off work and home to do it. Then we brush teeth, read, and re-read a four-book rotation. Finally, after we close the door and come down stairs, I am free to think about school and everything else.

I dread writing a budget, it’s tangible proof I have no money. Not even the couch pennies should be there. Yet I need to so I can prepare to sign my life away on a loan application. Then I remember, I have to prep for my first math quiz. My new math teacher is like a mother bird shoving a fledgling out to learn to fly—except he’s a man so there’s no mothering. I’ll definitely be spending time in the math lab.

It’s odd for me how becoming a mother of twins has also made me a 4.0 student who works part-time. Now, if only I could master better communication skills with my boyfriend. Ha, one thing at a time. Here’s to a new year and a fresh start! Even if it is only a new layer of skin.

Celina Gray is Blackfeet and Little Shell Chippewa, and attends Salish Kootenai College in Montana.

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