Every night, my husband spends about an hour (or more) prepping dinner for our family of five. And I mean real<\/strong> cooking with veggie-chopping and meat-thawing and actual recipes, not my style of cooking that involves dumping a box of pasta into water, setting a timer, then mixing in a packet of powdered cheese.<\/p>\n\n\n\n While he cooks, my primary responsibilities include:<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some nights, I smile as we dance around each other, like we’re all performing in a perfectly<\/strong> choreographed ballet. I help my oldest with a math problem and at the exact moment she gets the right answer (on her own!), the toddler runs up with a book she wants me to read. Then at the exact moment we finish reading, the preschooler asks for help putting the glue on her art project. And at the exact moment she glues the final pom pom on the paper, Ty announces dinner is ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Some<\/em> nights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n