The following entry is a favorite from Dawn - the evil, medicated genius behind True Wife Confessions; The Gimlet Eye; and I am doing the Best I can.

As I was never a stay at home mom before, I never experienced some of the things I have heard or read about. I never went to playgroups, and the only classes my kid took were on weekends when every other kid there was the child of a full time working mother.

So this "staying home" stuff is all new to me.

Granted, it is temporary. School will start for me in August, and I will become occupied with juggling home, family and classes. For now, I enjoy this glimpse.

Here in Montreal, there are parks EVERYWHERE. Literally. There are three within a three block radius of our house - all nice, all clean, all with these funny fountain wading pool things for the kids.

Emily is itchy for kids her own age. I hustled my ass over to the Rec Department but the day camp for her age was full. Her impatience with her boring ass parents is showing. So, I rationalized, I should take her to where children are - The Park. That way she can interact and play and generally work out some of her unmedicated ADD energy ( which is a different story for a different day).

More than that, it might make ME some friends. Yes, you read that correctly. Friends.

As Kristen wrote in this article, sometimes a Mommy just wants some mommy friends.

Alas, like Kristen expresses so beautifully, I am an oddball Mommy. Always have been, always will be. The other moms just don't want to play with me. They steer clear at the public school functions.

Like the undercover sleuth that I am, I have now scoped the park for several days. I know that the women with the toddlers and infants come at around 10 a.m. Their toddlers play, their infants nurse or snooze. By 11:15, the toddlers are clearing out for naps and the bigger kids are moving in - the Emily age kids.

Following our daily walk to the bakery for pastry and coffee, we now take a meandering return route that ends up in the largest park. I sip my bottled water, read and watch the other women and Emily finds ANY child that looks like they may be interested in her and entertains them.

Now that I have appeared for several consecutive days, I can see that the other regulars are taking notice of me. Maybe today is the day to make my move. I am, after all, pimping my Fussy "Writing well is the best revenge" t-shirt. Does that not loudly proclaim my coolness to all in the area?

I move to the edge of the wading pool. I have been sitting on a bench the other days - the park sign of "Give me some distance, this is my bench". Moving to the edge conveys an openness, an approachability. I debate pulling out my book. Would I seem more open to conversation without the book in my hand?

I don't. I watch Emily play in the fountain. I mull the fact that my Italian Spring water is in a bottle which requires a bottle opener. This makes me thirsty. AH HA! One of these Canadians MUST have a bottle opener. That's my opening line!

I eye the potential victims. That one is watching me. She seems intrigued by my presentation. She moves from her bench to where I am sitting on the edge of the pool. We laugh at the kids splashing.

"Do you have a bottle opener", I ask. I smile and look her in the eye.

She doesn't but it opens the conversation. Which I proceed to royally screw. This poor woman. I am surprised she didn't stand up and verbally warn the other mothers right then. In fact, she may have done that after I left.

She gets the full unfettered nervous Dawn experience. The one where I ramble and sound like I am a feminist on acid? My conversation moves from what I deem "The culture of fear" to which women are subjected, to race relations, to her divorce, to my speech on the repression of women's anger and how it frightens alot of people. I also mention the blogs. Which she knows NOTHING about.

Finally, she stands up and chases her son. When she returns, she does not sit next to me again.

Sigh.

I call Emily over. She has had more success than I today, saying goodbye to a boy with whom she had been chatting.

"It's time for lunch, honey", I tell her - handing her a towel.

Maybe tomorrow, Right? There are other moms like me in the Park...Right?