On home repairs and marriage

I have found the best test of the strength of a marriage is to embark on a huge remodeling project. Eric, the kids and I have been living in utter chaos for almost two months now. The plan is to completely renovate our house as much as possible, put it on the market for super cheap and get the heck out of Dodge.

I usually find myself working at the project alone while Eric takes on parenting duties. This use to bother me to no end. Why should I have to bust my ass while he gets to sit in the bedroom, watching DVRed reruns of Newhart (don't ask why, he loves that show)? But then, I think about it and I wouldn't want him helping most of the time anyway. He's usually more trouble than it's worth when it comes to a paintbrush or nail gun.

A year ago, in the throes of our earlier days with three children, we layed flooring and renovated our bedroom. Every three seconds, I wanted to throttle the man. Everything was his fault. He couldn't hold the floor in the right angle for me to lay the next piece. He was always in the way. I joke that the last time we attempted a project together, we nearly missed a divorce out of the thing. It's only a joke, but it was a rough patch for two days.

Yesterday and last Sunday, Eric and I installed the same kind of flooring in the hallway and the den. There were a few minor disagreements, but no major blow ups this time around. I didn't threaten to move out of the house, at least.

Maybe we've fallen in to a better routine since then. Maybe we've just gotten older and milder. Maybe we've found it isn't worth it to fight anymore. Whatever it is, I've decided that the way we react to difficult situations mirrors how we feel about each other. Eric and I are happy people now. We've been through an extremely rough year with Tycen and we've come out on the other end with a kid who can walk again and the miraculous ability to lay a floor.