I still remember the smell of pancakes wafting down the hallway while my two kids, ages eight and eleven, argued over who got the last homemade jam jar lid. Mornings in our cul-de-sac are a gentle chaos of backpacks, school lunches, and neighbor kids dropping by for a quick fort-building session. As a mom in my forties, I crave a calm, welcoming home where those tiny storms feel cozy rather than messy. Those evenings when the house finally exhales and the kids are reading or playing quietly, I love walking through rooms that feel soft and lived-in—places where memories settle…