Mom Tinder Part 2 or How to Meet Moms and Influence Absolutely No One

Catch up on part 1 here.

The first step was to set up my profile pictures. I could choose up to 6. Enter problem number one. What pictures should I choose? Do I go with that cute pic from 2 years ago where I’m looking hot and skinny in my bikini even though my current shape more closely resembles a potato? Do I post the stilted family portrait where one kid looks like he’s about to vomit, my husband is blinking and you can actually see the wild animal rage hidden behind my clenched smile? What is the correct kid pic to selfie pic ratio? You obviously want to make it known you have kids and are not, in fact, a 50 year old dude. But you also don’t want to come across as the kind of mom who can’t talk about anything beyond little Timmy’s latest bowel movement…so I needed to include some pictures that make people think I’m actually fun to be around (or at least I have the capability even if recently my idea of fun is watching a Disney flick while organizing the junk drawer). And just how much fun can I show? Should I sneak in that pic from my birthday party where I’m holding shots in both fists? Or is that overkill? Do I tone it down and snap a quick selfie with a strategically placed wine glass on the table beside me? The photos were a problem

Finally I just threw up my hands and decided my random smattering of fuzzy, poorly lit pics was going to have to suffice.

Picture I used. Don’t you want to be my friend?

Picture I did not use. I might actually try to eat your brains.

Up next was writing my profile. I immediately skipped that part because YOU HAVE TO WRITE A PROFILE? What do I write? Do I go for authenticity, admitting I have no clue what I’m doing or how I ended up on mom tinder but that I’m really REALLY lonely and I’d basically pay them to hang out with me if I had the money? And oh yeah, can all our mom dates be free because broke? I couldn’t imagine that going over well so at that point I hit the “skip for now” button, took a break, drank a beer and added this new existential crisis to my list of topics to talk about in therapy next week.