There’s No Shame in Couples Seeking the Help of a Professional
Posted: Wednesday, November 10, 2010
by Brianna Popsickle
For a while now I've been secretly envying couples honest enough to admit they were having problems. I admired the fact that they identified their issues and took the necessary steps to resolve them. When they finally admitted they couldn't fix them on their own, they sought the help of a professional. There's no shame in that.
My husband and I have known there were problems for a while, but I guess we were afraid to take that first step. We knew exposing a problem often had a way of uncovering more. We didn't know if we could afford to take the risk. In all honesty, we didn't know if our marriage could survive it.
I'm happy to say we've taken that first step. We've hired a contractor!
When we bought our house sixteen years ago, we made a list of improvements we wanted to make. It began with a new roof, followed by a new furnace, windows, gas fireplace and most recently an automatic garage door opener. (Something we should have done first since I was the automatic door opener for the last fourteen years.)
A new kitchen is something I really only ever dreamed of. To me it was one of those things I could look at as I browsed the latest issue of House and Home Magazine, and think, some day. But my husband had promised we'd do the kitchen on my next birthday. True to his word, he asked a contractor to give us a quote on refurbishing our existing cabinets. One month later we're onto our second set of blueprints. We've totally gutted the kitchen and reconfigured the layout.
Remember me saying uncovering one problem often leads to another? I guess that's to be expected in the world of renovation. When tearing down walls we realized it wasn't properly insulated and we uncovered water damage from a previous leak (prior to the new roof). Cha ching! More time, and money.
To save on costs we decided to take on the task of demolition ourselves. We donned our safety glasses and while my husband tore down walls, I happily smashed the tiles I'd hated for years. Talk about therapy, couple's therapy at that!
As the walls and tiles came tumbling down my husband said, "We're doing it Brianna. We're renovating!" Life was good. We high-fived.
Months ago, I'd taken control of the television remote, as he lay on the floor nursing a bad back. I got him interested in some home shows. We watched as couples transformed their homes and although some went broke, and others eventually divorced, we admired them. At least they were doing it! Well now, so were we.
My husband says he's a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none. There's no job he won't tackle and even though he may have to do it two or three times, it always gets done. He jumped into the reno with both feet, tearing down walls, insulating and dry walling.
He decided early on he worked best when I wasn't in the kitchen.
No problem.
Countless times I heard $#%$, son-of-a-b_ _ _ _ _,' or I'm the worst carpenter in the world,' coming from the kitchen.
I learned not to ask.
Once he yelled, Brianna, come quick! You have to see this.' I ran to the room wondering if I should be frightened, only to have him proudly show me a perfectly cut piece of drywall.
I notified our children they couldn't come home until the kitchen was done. Their bedrooms were covered with pots, pans and dishes. I set up a makeshift kitchen and dishwashing station. I made my husband coffee, took him beer, handed him tools and made numerous trips to the building supply store. So often, that on one occasion I walked in and (just like Norm Peterson stepping into the bar on the old sitcom Cheers) everyone yelled, "Brianna!" like they were excited to see me.
We'd spoken to other people who'd been through renovations and lived to tell about it. One woman said she gained fifteen pounds, often finding it easier to eat out. I swore that wasn't happening. Although friends came to our rescue inviting us for dinners, I'd decided to make it my mission to continue to cook, even though the microwave was in one room, the stove in another and the fridge somewhere in between. It was a lot like camping indoors, and although I'd never been much of a camper, I was determined.
The contractor and his crew became like family, coming and going at all hours. One had a real sense of humour and said things like, I guess we should have talked about the triple time for working Sundays before I spent yesterday afternoon here.' He was funnier at the beginning of the project.
My husband said I talked too much with the contractors. They're on the clock you know. So one day I took my notebook and phone to the deck to work rather than sit at my desk across from the kitchen. As I sat writing my phone rang. I didn't recognize the voice at first and then I said, "Wait at minute, are you calling me from my kitchen?" I looked in to see our drywall guy standing on his two-foot high stilts painting the ceiling while talking to me on his cell phone . Yes, he had quite a sense of humour, one I'm sure I'll miss when the job is done. If it gets done .
As for our marriage, my husband and I were handling the upheaval pretty well, although we did have our moments. One morning while rushing to get ready for work my husband asked for the third day in a row, where the peanut butter was.
I snapped.
In the top drawer of the black filing cabinet, behind the couch, in the family room! Where else would it be?
Once I caught him painstakingly peeling black stuff off his hands. What's that?' I asked innocently, only to have him snap, F_ _ _ _ _ _ _ insulation adhesive. It sticks to everything except the f _ _ _ _ _ _ insulation!'
And I admit things got a little tense between us when we tried to assemble the light fixtures we so lovingly chose together after twenty trips to various lighting stores. As we hunted for the fourth screw that fell to the floor, I was reminded of something the contractor had said. Those fixtures come with full instructions and diagrams for easy assembly. The only thing they don't include is a picture of the husband and wife with their hands wrapped around each other's throats.'
See? He is a funny guy.
Overall though, we're surviving the reno and keeping a sense of humour. I've taken before photos and am hoping the after pictures will be available soon.
We spend most Friday nights strolling the building supply store arm-in-arm and have become acquainted with several couples who appear to be doing the same thing.
"It's Friday night, what would you rather be doing?" I asked, smiling at a woman as her husband piled more supplies into their cart. She rolled her eyes at me, obviously further along in her reno than I was.
We're now on day twenty-three of the project. When I asked the contractor when he thought we might be done, he smiled and said, It won't be much longer now.' I'm not holding my breath, but I'm not going to sweat it.
Tonight I cooked a delicious roast beef dinner, which we enjoyed side-by-side at our TV tables. Following that, we collapsed on the bed. I was aching from head to toe, having loaded twenty wheelbarrows of demolition stuff into a trailer. My husband was sore from having spent the better part of the day insulating a small crawlspace under the kitchen.
As we lay there comparing aches and pains, we heard our dog Casey getting into something in the makeshift kitchen.
The roast!
We both yelled, "Casey, get down!" even though we both know she's completely deaf. Neither of us made a move to get up.
Casey eventually joined us, licking her lips and looking content.
Wearily, we looked at each other and sighed.
After a long silence I perked up a little and said, "How be for your birthday we renovate the family room?"
To which my husband replied, "How be for my birthday, we don't."
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Top-level comments on this article: (6 total)Ah Brianna! I laughed out loud!! Bruce and I need professional help too. Thanks to you, we can admit it now. Maybe my kitchen can get finished.Anything I can do to help Jean! Glad you had a laugh! Thanks for reading.
Another totally delightful article from you Brianna. Having completely gutted our kitchen several years ago, I empathize. As for the "when will it be done" question, I suggest you read A Year In Provence. Delightful story, and the standard answer to that question is "about two weeks." :) When we decided to have our kitchen done, it was September. I asked the contractor if it would be done before Christmas, otherwise I wanted to wait til January. Wrong question. They didn't get started until the first week in December. It was done before Christmas...noon on Dec 23. :) Then I got to put everything back and try to remember where it was while I fixed Christmas dinner.It's a scene for sure. It's nice to hear from another reno survivor Joyce. Thanks for reading and commenting and I will check out the story you mentioned.
You had me fooled in the beginning, Brianna, my heart was in my throat, I was so distressed! Attacking an old kitchen is a very original and creative approach to couples therapy - this one would make a great episode for your TV series. Seriously, I'm going to see how many articles you've written; you've probably got countless seasons' worth. Never mind the lottery ticket, you're sitting on a goldmine.I'm willing to share. You're the script writer! Our people should talk. :) As for couples therapy, we may need it when, if ever, this reno gets done! Good to hear from you!
You have a real talent for making even the most mundane situations sound interesting and funny- I loved this! Your sense of humor is delightful-- I have a feeling there would never be a dull moment around you-- Thanks Brianna- Always- EllaThanks Ella. (I think) :) I live it, so I write about it and hope people can relate. I'm glad you enjoy reading it and I appreciate you taking time to comment. Always good to hear from you. - Brianna-
The word,"contractor" is recently become the dirtiest word in my vocabulary.
We had our kitchen totally refurbished into the most gorgeous and technically updated futuristic one imaginable, but the first contractor was disingenuous, slow, sloppy ,inept and not true to any of his words.We needed another contractor to correct a multitude of errors and sloppy work.Needless to say THAT contractor also made promises he simply didn't keep and we needed yet a third to do a mop up operation.It was many extra months, aggravations and dollars later, that the word,"contractor" now stands among the filthiest epithets I can muster."Shame" is an apt word but contextually misused in your title;I was rather hoping that marriage counseling or something more pleasant was what you had in mind when you penned this nightmarish article.My sad experiences are echoed and mirrored by many others who've had the highly dubious pleasure to hire a(should I use the "C" word, again?) contractor..........Your best buddy,PaulWhen my kitchen is done, you, Joyce and I will have to get together for coffee and compare our renovation stories. Your kitchen or mine? Good to hear from you Bud! :)
Loved the lead in and the remodel - I am married to the contractor and builder (he has been since before me - for 34 years now) We move a lot. Right now I am totally thankful that resale market isn't good or we'd probably be building or remodeling again and I really like our little cabin and want to stay here forever - I will build with him again (a spec) any time but no battle of the boxes, please.I knew a woman who was married to a handyman and she said he was 'handy' everywhere but at home. :) This is a slow process, but I keep thinking about what it will be like when it's done. It will get done right Marijo? Thanks for reading and commenting. By the way if you love your cabin, stay put!!!My hubby never hangs up his nail bag at home but does the necessary - we have built 4 family homes together and he had even the spec home (affectionately called our monster mansion) done in a bit under 4 months from digging the hole till finish. Yep, it will get done!
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