Day 1

I'm going to tell you a story. About this girl. Woman, really; but she always associated that term with older ladies, and she was only 26, and still felt like a girl in many ways. Certain things about her life reminded her that she wasn't a carefree girl anymore. Things like the pile of dishes that wouldn't do themselves, like they magically did when she was still living in her parent's home. Things like that 6'3" gorgeous man snoring quietly on the living room sofa they bought together. Things like the 2 matching red and white party dresses, size 3x and 24 months, hanging on the shower curtain rod to dry. Things like the peels of laughter coming from the family room where Grover is running near...and far....Things like the pregnancy test still laying on the bathroom counter~announcing another chapter in her life had begun.

There MUST be other women out there, who felt like she did. Who felt that the title of "Mom" belonged to someone much older and wiser and more experienced, and definitely someone who knew how to cook more than Kraft dinner and Heinz beans. But where do you go to find such people? Do you take out a wanted ad in the classifieds? Do you post neon flyers on every other wooden telephone pole? And what might these pleas on paper read like anyways?

Desperate new mother, who does not cook, hates cleaning,
and makes up any excuse in the book to get a shower
by every 4th day,
seeking the same?

Hmm. That could get messy, unhealthy, and stinky, pretty fast. She had already tried the good old fashioned way...you know...going to a drop in play group. They advertise it's for the kids, but everyone knew, it's to drop your kids off and socialize with someone who had more that a 25 word vocabulary. What she found at this group was a bunch of women who sewed all their kids clothes (including matching cloth diaper covers), cooked 5 course dinners every night, and cleaned the ring around the toilet with bare hands and a toothbrush all with a smile on their faces. Oh, and how could she forget, none of them slept. At ALL. Because while their families lay snug in their bed, they spent the nights creating pottery and cookbooks to sell to raise money for the orphaned African children. Yep, they did all this. Or, so they say. So desperate to fit in, she just kept smiling and nodding, and finally, in a rare lull in conversation, she tossed in a comment about how she couldn't believe J.Lo's Grammy dress the night before...right, guys? All the blank stares and the deafening silence assured her, she would have to work a bit harder on her add for the classifieds.

**announcer's voice**
Will our girl ever find true friendship? Will she have to study night and day to learn to cross stitch and cook a meatloaf to fit in? Come back tomorrow to see what happens next.