As my 10-year-old and I cleared the last of the junk out of the dining room and admired our work, I thanked her for her help and let her know I couldn't have accomplished this task without her. As she looked up at me and smiled, I reminded myself I was just overreacting and that my kids don't really notice or care when the house is a mess.

What we all remember, what we all enjoy, are life's messy moments. Stilted perfection might appeal on the glossy magazine page, but would be so cold and impersonal if we were seated in the midst of it.