Dear Husband, Please Don’t Die (I’m Afraid of Tinder)

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tinder online dating - Boston Moms Blog

Dear Husband,

You’ll be heartened to know there are many reasons I wish for you to remain alive. First and foremost, I’m relatively sure this sea of children we’ve co-created is trying to kill me, and you are my best line of defense. Plus, you’re pretty good at fixing things, you give good hugs, and I just realized I don’t actually know how to use the snow blower.

The more I learn about app dating, though, the more I’m considering forcing you to go vegan, wear a helmet when you drive, and sleep in a hyperbaric chamber. If you recall, you were pretty solidly stuck with me already back when online dating was still for weirdos. Ours is an analog love story. Please, please, for the love of God, don’t make me go out there. I won’t survive.

I’ve gotten the lay of the land from some single friends, and it’s not pretty. Tinder is where you go when you don’t get enough random pictures of penises popping up on your phone. These penises usually belong to men whose lives are dumpster fires. Bumble only allows women to initiate contact, so fewer penis pictures. Hinge, Coffee Meets Bagel, and a billion others are kind of middle-of-the-road, but everyone who is on one is also on the others, so you’re just going to end up getting repeat pictures of the same penises. You have to apply to be admitted to The League, which is only for pictures of highly educated penises. If you’re into pictures of agricultural penises, FarmersOnly is your best option.

I’d be like a moose trying to play the piano. I simply lack the tools to operate in the online dating space. I’m too over trying to make people like me. So just to amplify my anxiety, I Googled “how to make a dating profile.” I know you don’t want me to be miserable, so let’s play this out a little bit so you can see how imperative it is that you don’t die:

Suggestion 1: List hobbies you can do with others

OK, here I go: Picking up toys, grocery shopping, paying bills, scrubbing poop blowout stains out of onesies, yelling.

Suggestion 2: Choose pictures of you doing stuff

Perfect! Here are pictures of me picking up toys, grocery shopping, paying bills, scrubbing poop blowout stains out of onesies, yelling.

Suggestion 3: Avoid being negative

Let’s skip this one. For God’s sake, my husband just died.

Suggestion 4: Be honest

Really? Alright: I work full time, I have a side business, and I have kids ages 1, 2, and 5. I last exercised in 2013, and the interior of my Subaru is covered in “Frozen” stickers. I’d love to meet you as long as you’re cool with me canceling four times in a row because a kid got sick, then finally showing up late cause someone had a traumatic poop. You’ll be able to recognize me as the one in a black shirt with a giant yogurt smear across the shoulder (and you’ll notice my look of panic as I forget I’m out by myself and momentarily freak out that I’ve just misplaced a kid). I’ll look forward to hearing you talk about all the cool hobbies you have that I won’t have time to consider doing until around 2034, and it’s wholly possible that at some point I’ll reach across the table, grab your nose with a napkin, and tell you to blow. Oh, and I need to get home in time to be in bed by 8:30 p.m.

See? Disaster. So please, please take care of yourself. I really need you to stick around for a very long time. At least until online dating runs its course and meeting in person becomes retro-cool again. But preferably forever, because you’re the best and I love you, plus, I really don’t want to learn how to use the snowblower.

Sincerely,

Your Wife

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After growing up in Connecticut and roaming the Northeast as an academic nomad for 100 years and 100 apartments, Amanda is now happily settled north of Boston. Her handsome gentleman caller (aka husband) and she were enjoying life as unbearable DINKs, then somehow ended up having three children in the span of four years (currently 4, 2, and 10 months.) Go big or go home, right? Amanda works as a user experience research and design consultant and also has a side hustle making artisanal garlic salt (for real! etsy.com/shop/AnnasGarlicSalt) She has a PhD in human-computer interaction and uses it for two things: 1) Work, and 2) referencing when she does something idiotic (example: “Officer can you help me? I have lost my car in the mall parking lot and have been searching for it for almost 2 hours. And by the way, I have a PhD.”) Amanda loves bargains, gardening, thunderstorms, and a solid 25%-30% of people. She is terrified of lobsters, the word “slacks,” and of the remaining 70%-75% of people.