Mommyrella

Some days, as the sun stretches its hazy morning rays through my window and the birds begin to sing, I hear the voices of my children and it feels like I'm living a fairy tale.
Cinderella.
"Waaaaahhhhh!" Screams Little Miss.  Fetch me things! Feed me! NOW!
"MommymommymommyMOMMY!" Screams Little One.  Fetch me things! Feed me NOW!
I've barely slept, I look haggard.  Sun.  WHAT are you doing creeping in my room, it is horrifically early. I have to get up and attend to the every minor need and whim of The Sisters.  Except where the H are my singing mice to help me out?!  All I have are these two dogs over here.  
"Whine Whine Whine! Play fetch with me! FEED ME NOW!"  
I spend the day creating and distributing meals of various sorts, cleaning up from the meals, cleaning up all kinds of things, frequently actually on the floor scrubbing.  I scamper about responding to orders.
"whine whine! Let me out! Let me in!"
"Waah whaah! I'm wet, help me change for the 34th time this morning!" 
"Whine Whine! Bring me tea! Sing a song! Tell a story!!! Dance, monkey, dance!"
I stir the soup pot while scrubbing the breakfast pan, ironing uniforms, feeding the baby, and belting out twinkle-little-star for the 53rd time this morning.  Mommyrella.  Fix the breakfast, do the mopping.  They always keep her hopping.
Where are my singing mice?!
MIA.  But at least I have this lady.

The fairygod-mother-in-law
Last Friday night, She waved a magic gift certificate and said "bibbity-bobbity-boo!" And just like that!
I had on a nice dress!  I had fancy shoes! I was all polished up, unmarred by cinders or anyone's bodily fluids! I got into a coach, and went out for an evening with prince charming.  Not at a castle, exactly, but at an incredible french restaurant in Virginia. Tomato, tomahto.
We had an impossibly amazing SIX course meal, in a beautiful historic building with a candle on the table.  That no one tried to throw, eat, or pour milk on.  We had actual entire conversations, about whatever we wanted! We didn't waltz.  But we did get to hold hands, which were miraculously empty of other things for the evening.  It was lovely.
After midnight when we got home and I was taking off my earrings and washing away the mascara, I felt a little like Cinderella when everything turned back into pumpkins.  I wished it could have lasted longer, even if both of us were practically falling asleep by the time the soup came.
Unlike Cinder-girl, Mommyrella has to go back to balancing piles of laundry on her head and scrubbing floors, indefinitely.  I don't get to keep any glass slippers, I never do get those singing mice.
But I do have a little matchbook that J slipped into my purse to remember our date by.  I do get to keep my Prince Charming.  And anyways, isn't it the ending that counts?  Happily Ever After? 
I get some of that, too.