MWF w/ I Seeking F w/ I

So, I started dating again. I am back in the saddle and in truth, just looking for friends with benefits this time around. The “benefit” of course being that they have a kid. Non-procreators need not apply. And if your offspring is the same age as mine, I’m even willing to pick up the turkey-n-avocado-on-wheat lunch tab. Oh, and did I mention, I’m really only interested in women at this point? Mr. Moms’, I commend you for bucking the gender stereotype (even though you likely ironed the grilled cheese and stapled the Woobie) but I’ve decided I’m a boob gal. Because let’s face it, we ladies want to the freedom to complain about our sagging girls and in the next breath, criticize our husbands and how they STAPLED the beloved Woobie! Can you believe it? What a jack-ass. Unless you’re gay and willing to badmouth your man, you’ll have to find your own playgroup.

It’s weird being back on the prowl. Sizing up other moms up at the petting zoo, in the grocery check-out aisle, on the playground. Stealthily calculating who appears to be somewhat “normal”. I’ve heard church can actually be a goldmine, but I’m not sure I am ready to open up that can of worms. I think its best to avoid politics and religion, at least until the second date. I am open to “virgins” as well as moms who have been around the block a time or two. I find both contribute to a budding relationship. I can whine about sleep deprivation with the other first-timers while the veterans offer sage advice and always seem to have stains on their shirts which makes me feel better about myself. Either way, I strive to present a wholesome and mentally stable image when my daughter and I manage to expunge ourselves from the house. I actually wash my face and accessorize Bridget (my chick-magnet wing-baby) in her adorable gingham jumpsuit and socks with bows. Terrible to admit, but she is an excellent prop. I’ve discovered that moms of boys seem especially attracted to pink frilly tots and you never know who you may run into.

The hunting mom does have to be cautious. No surprise, there are a lot of freaks out there. Avoid groups with matching Land’s End polos and umbrella strollers who are chuckling at the park in a tight U-formation with their iced lattes. They are TAKEN. You will not be able to break into that clique no matter how cute your baby is – so just accept your losses and move on. Avoid the over-zealous La Leche chicks – unless you find it socially acceptable to express breast milk into your coffee mug at the local Panera. (Disclosure: May be a slight exaggeration) Avoid all perfectionists who actually put on mascara for a play date, fit into their pre-maternity cloths after a month and generally make you feel like a frump. Avoid the visibly exhausted who were genetically socked with a devil child. Empathize – but move on. She won’t be able to sit still for more than five seconds and Junior’s atrocious behavior will only rub off on your little darling. Pay attention to those shy reliable ones in the back corner of music class. They are often times the keepers.

It is a delicate dance to appear vulnerable and approachable without coming off too desperate. Women can smell it like a poopy diaper and retreat because clearly something MUST be wrong with you if you are THIS starved for companionship. But, I sense the majority of moms are very open to exploring the domain of female dating. I recommend an initial casual one hour lunch date and if all goes well, the official phone number exchange in the iPhone. But, best to wait 72 hours before calling or texting again. Better yet, play hard to get and let her pursue you. Always good to be in the driver’s seat.

After much consideration, my personal ad would read something like this:
MWF (Married White Female) w/ infant Seeking F w/ Infant. Looking to pass the time - whether it be meandering stroller walks in the park, Target returns, or comparing sleep-training strategies at the corner table at Starbucks. I want a woman who doesn’t claim to have all the answers or have it all together, but is willing to chuckle about our attempts at juggling chaos. I want a woman who can swear, sport a ponytail, and does NOT have the energy to peel, chop and puree her own acorn squash into baby food. I want a woman who shops for onesies at Marshalls instead of Bloomingdales and doesn’t judge me for using pacifier wipes. I want a woman who is willing to quietly sing Farmer in the Dell in the line at the bank because it makes her baby laugh. I want a woman who is smart and dreams of taking a vacation in ten years so that she can actually read a book without pictures. (And bonus points if her husband is actually “normal” as this opens up a whole other dimension of swing dating with the men in tow.) If this sounds like you, call me. If you get my voice mail, I promise to wait the appropriate 72 hours before stalking your home.