To be PERFECT, what does that mean, exactly?

Tonight I read this post by my friend, Jenny.  She's not an art teacher, and, thus, it's not an art teacher blog, but it got me thinking. Specifically, I was thinking back to an incident that happened sometime in my first several years of teaching.  We had some concerns about a student, and were calling the parents in to discuss the child's [lack of] progress.  I'd brought some of her work samples to the meeting and when I showed the mother, she cried.  Not out of worry or concern--out of love and adoration.  I quickly realized several things: #1, always bring "benchmark" work to parent meetings (artistically gifted/talented student work, average work . . .), #2, you never really know what goes on at home--a child with it all together may not have a great home life, and conversely, a struggling student very well could be the center of a parent's universe (as the all should be), and #3, I [was] a lot more of an uppity b&^$% than I realized. I was young.  I'd gone to a top-rated private art school AND had gone on to get a whole other bachelor's in art education after that and had probably started on my master's.  I thought I knew exactly what I was talking about and the parents would just be bowled over by my knowledge, prestige and confidence. Ummmm, not so much.  I can only speak from my own experience, but I know I learned a heck of a lot teaching those first seven and a half years in a brand-new urban elementary school with changing administration, revolving staff and no playground or discipline plan until well into the second year.  And I learned it on my feet, and quickly, if I didn't want to get ran over.  I had a child to feed, clothe and house, so failure was never an option.
That parent meeting sealed some things I'd followed but had no real reason why prior to that day.  Things like: I hang up everyone's work.  Period.  Not finished? Still hanging it up.  Not that pretty/really sloppy/looks-like-you-were-riding-an-outer-space-pony-while-the-directions-were-being-given? Still hanging it up. Life skills/multi-handicapped student mainstreamed into the class? Definately hanging it up with all the others, and proudly,too.  Watching that mother tear and up and say "ooohhhh, it's so beautiful" over the very artwork I'd looked at scornfully just before made me stop and realize I had no right to think that I knew what was going on with her daughter when she worked on her art.  I also realized perfection isn't the goal, thinking is.  When I first became a teacher (one where I had my own classroom and my own plan) I said "I want them to think" but I didn't really dwell on it.  Thinking was the forefront of what I taught, it drove my instruction for many years.  And then, well, I don't know what happened.  Maybe it was just something that got a little lost in the shuffle, maybe it's all those conferences I go to, blogs I read where everyone's stuff looks so great and I think "Oh, my kids can do that!" without even thinking WHY should they do that? Is it important? Will it help them become better thinkers? Better artists?
There's so much we deal with as teachers (in my district right now, it's learning targets, and I've got to be honest and say--I forget all about them all the time.  Sometimes I post them, I never read them to the students, I don't even think they know where to look for them. . . SIGH, I really suck at this) and it's easy to get caught up in this or that (latest educational trends, juicy workplace gossip, oh-my-goodness-I'm-probably-a-step-or-two-away-from-being-featured-on-Hoarders: Buried Alive-based-on-the-state-of-my-classroom) and just LIFE.  I want to remember my goal: to educate them to think about a variety of solutions to problems, not to strive for "perfection."  'Cause I'm not sure I even know what that is, but if we achieve it, what else is left?  Now to go prepare some PERFECT lessons to foster thinking. . .