  I dream of living life in a Pottery Barn catalogue. Each room would be perfectly, casually furnished with a Sabrina basket, clearly labeled on the liner mind you, for every storage need. The house would never be messy, unless if was the perfect Pottery Barn for Kids art project. And then the materials would be put away immediately after project completion and the precious work of art would be framed and hung to complete the rooms decor.
I would spend my time creating healthy, delicious meals in the spacious kitchen with adorably mismatched dishes on the rolling island or curled up in the chair and a half reading a book by the light of the silk shaded lamp while sipping a glass of white wine (red wine, if spilled, might forever stain the natural sisal rug covering the gleaming hardwoods). The kids would be perfectly attired and never covered in various bodily fluids or remnants of their lunch.
I would be perfectly attired and never covered in various kid bodily fluids or remnants of their lunch. Family outings would consist of leisurely piling into the Land Rover with all of the necessities packed in the perfect-for-the-job tote bags/coolers/backpacks and taking a happy family drive to the nearest family attraction (zoo, park, amusement park). We'd sing songs as we drove along, never getting lost, snapping at each other or spilling food and drink on the supple leather seats.
Evenings would consist of the gourmet meal mentioned above and then, the kitchen somehow magically spic and span again, a family game night where no one cheats, loses their temper or has a melt down. At the end of a long day I would climb into my gorgeous, coordinated bedroom set, snuggle down into the 400 thread count sheets and fall asleep secure in the knowledge that my life was sooo much better than anyone elses. 
