Dating is different now. I don’t mean dating for singles, I mean us, moms and dads. Finding a sitter, putting together meals and snacks, setting out the diapers, wipes, pjs and back up outfits. It’s really kind of exhausting, and that doesn’t even begin to cover getting myself ready. Last night I was trying to do just that. I’d had what could be described as a magnificently bad afternoon and I was finding very little joy in anything. It was sticky and hot, my legs, which had felt sleek and gorgeous earlier, now seemed like a wide expanse of prickly, pasty unsaleable land. My hair was brassy, lank and framed my face in a kind of unflattering rectangular helmet horror sort of way. I…