If you were to ask me what my favorite movie is, I would tell you, without pause, Cinderella. YES, the cartoon movie. I have always loved that movie. I still do. There is something about it that, no matter that I am rapidly approaching (gulp) 40, still gets to me. Still makes me hopeful that one day MY prince will come. I watch, I wait, I try to be patient, I work on being content, but dag-on it! Where the heck is he? I half wonder if, one of these days, when (I have to say when, I can't say if--that is too depressing), so when he shows up I am going to blurt out "You're late! Where the heck have you been?!?"
There are two (more) pregnant women at work. I am struggling to be happy for them. I mean truly happy for them. Happy enough to not be jealous. They are lovely women and I am sure they will make wonderful mothers. They are a good ten years younger than me, though, and I can't help but be jealous. When I was still teaching my middle school students would ask me questions on the back of their quizzes. Some of the questions were silly, some they wouldn't want me to repeat out loud--they just wanted a private answer, and one that I will always remember was "If you weren't a teacher, what would you want to be?" My answer was always the same...a mommy.
I would like to think I would be a good mommy. I would bake cupcakes for the class. I would volunteer to help the teacher. I would give the good teacher presents (because I was a teacher). I would do crafts and finger paint and play-dough. I know there are lots of other things that make one a good mommy and I know that I would make mistakes, but I still think that, given the chance, I would make a good mommy. I am fearing, though, that I won't get the chance.
So, even though I watch Cinderella, and am always a little teary at the end because of the happily ever after, I know that real life isn't a fairy tale, and that makes me kind of sad.