So recently I became aware of an app called Peanut. Peanut is essentially an app to connect with other moms. You’re supposed to be able to find “like-minded mamas near you,” or my friend Jill refers to as “Mom Tinder.”
I was absolutely horrified. I never participated in the online dating craze and the whole thing leaves me feeling pretty gross. I never partook in hokey play groups (which is why my kid grew up watching Rupaul’s Drag Race and eating Mexican food with adults).
Plus, so many mom-types I run into are LAME and as Cher says in Clueless “from far away [they’re] OK, but up close, [they’re] a big, old mess.” Plus I’m all booked up in the Friend Department. I can’t even manage to make time to see my friends on the other side of Houston, let alone some women I don’t even know.
At the same time, I was oddly interested. I never really qualified for online dating. I’ve been in a relationship of some type for as long as I could remember and I don’t need any extra men in my life for those purposes but I actually qualified for this one! I was eligible! Plus – I kind of wanted to witness the sh*t show first hand.
So off I went to the app store to download Peanut and check out what I was missing my not having “like-minded mamas” in my life.
When you download the app, you create a profile. It steals your profile picture from Facebook (major pet peeve) and you can add a few others. But really – how could you resist this face?
You create a quick profile, choosing your neighborhood and your kid(s) age and gender. (Sidenote: This is pretty creepy. I’ve basically just told you where you can come kidnap my spawn.)
Then you define yourself by choosing icons that describe you – they have choices like Wine Time, Mom Boss, Outdoorsy, Strictly Organic, Single Mama, Special Needs and even Hot Mess. I quickly picked Wine Time (I assume they meant Vodka Time), Hot Mess and But First, Food. Of course. You can add other things to your profile – your occupation, hometown, education and a short bio. Naturally, I crafted a witty, interesting short bio and picked the best pictures of myself, leaving off the pictures of my kid, unlike everyone else.
Much like Tinder, you swipe one way if you’re interesting in connection with the mom and the other way if you want to pass for now. And boy did I want to pass.
First of all, there’s not too many people in my area on the app yet. My immediate area was sparse, so I branched out to neighboring areas, still underwhelmed. I passed on almost everyone for various reasons. Maybe I’m being a little “Seinfeld” about this but they either had kids that were too young, stupid hobby icons that I couldn’t jibe with like Fitness Fiend or Adrenaline Junkie, had those cheesy family pictures where everyone is holding hands that make me feel oddly uncomfortable or looked like they might have had some serious issues.
Sigh. Maybe I was self-sabotaging. Or maybe there just wasn’t anyone up to my super high friend standards. I realized I had to start “waving” at someone so I picked a few of the most normal-looking bitches, which was not easy. I picked the app up again the next day and became less picky. I started waving at more moms because I wanted to see what happened when we made an online connection.
Unfortunately, I was met with major Mom-jection. No one waved back. No one swiped my way, even the freaks that I waved at that I was hoping I’d never be forced to interact with. Seven days have gone by and not one of these uptight bitches have waved back at me. REJECTION. F*ck Peanut.
WHY DON’T YOU WANT TO BE MY FRIEND? I’M SO F—ING COOL.
Today I opened the app and deactivated my account. I don’t need this kind of negativity in my life. And I’m just fine with the bitches I already know.
Is it worth trying again? I don’t know; maybe. If you’re interested, go to the App Store or Google Play and download it. Try it out and let me know if you get rejected as badly as I was. You know, I might have better luck on Tinder.