Sometimes What I Do Is Completely Pointless

When we moved into this house a year ago I had a vision of the perfect room for my son.  I looked at tons of decorating websites.  I wanted it to be able to grow with him.  I wanted a room that he would be proud to bring his friends to.  I picked out the perfect shade of blue for the walls.  That shade of blue turned out to be awful when I saw it on the walls.  I went back to the paint store to have them mix up just the right mixture of blue and gray.  I went to flea markets to find furniture.  It would send the right message to him of the need for conservation, the importance of reusing and recycling.  Eric and I spent a week repainting a mid-century modern style dresser with gray and white Chevrons.  We measured and remeasured to get just the right width of chevron.  I hung artwork, one large piece of an airplane consisting of three canvases that I painted myself.  I bought new bedding to match his new décor.

This is where he sleeps.  He will sleep in the hall or on the floor of his room.  On a few occasions I found him asleep on the stairs.  But I can not tell you the last time he slept in his bed.

I gave my daughter a bath.  I chased her down when she ran naked through the house.  I washed her nutella smeared face and yogurt-filled hair.  I cleaned up the water on the floor and around the tub afterwards.  I chased her down when she ran naked through the house again and put a diaper and clothes on her.

Here is a picture of my daughter taken 1 hour after her bath.  I might as well have put her in a tub full of ketchup and dirt.

Sometimes what I do is completely pointless.