I know I'm the last person to be giving dinnertime/mom advice here(see last post) but one of my secrets is cranking Dean Martin while I make dinner and try to make it through the last hour before the beloved husband gets home.
I mean it just makes sense. How can you feel grumpy and tired while listening to him? He exudes cool. The big-band in the background, the occasional well-placed Italian phrase= gold!
And of course you've got to appreciate his constant cigarette and scotch in hand, even if its a little too early to have your own much deserved drink after a day of tantrums, toddler trouble, and diapers you feel Dean wouldn't judge you if you did!