Day 5 of single parenting, and I have decided that I would rather be a Las Vegas showgirl than a single mother.

I can’t believe I just said those words.

And to all the moms and dads out there who do (or did) this single parenting thing full-time, all the time: you are amazing. *salutes you* (Yes, Mom, I include you in this, so you can lay off the guilt trip in the comments section)

I am an extrovert. It’s who I am. I can do the taking care of my children, the long hours of keeping myself occupied by housecleaning, packing, reading a book, doing laundry. I am extremely competent, reliable, responsible, and independent. But my brain needs feeding. I haven’t had a conversation that didn’t involve either poop or washable crayons for DAYS. I am almost to the point of stopping strangers on the side of the road to strike up a conversation. Pretty much anyone over 46 pounds will do.

My neighbor just ran from me in the midst of a somewhat inane conversation I was struggling to prolong, saying over her shoulder that she was letting me go so I could make dinner for my kids.

“Kids?” I say, the note of desperation bordering on creepy. “They don’t need dinner. I have granola bars. Would you like some Cabernet? I have …cake???”

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