My husband and I have owned our home for five years. It was the quintessential fixer-upper when we plopped down our enormous down payment, each room presenting us a design and restoration challenge, and more than a handful of “negotiations” to go with it. At first I was into it. I love home decor and hands-on projects and really, genuinely thought spending every free moment immersed in paint, plaster and drywall was fun. But then a year passed. Then two. Then we had a child. And then, I was over it. I wanted professional help and I wanted it fast.

I wanted pro painters, pro handymen, and pro flooring guys. I wanted a world-class electrician to install my recessed lighting, and a landscape architect to plant my ivy. It’s partially because I trust them more than us, but mainly because I knew it would get done faster.

My husband… well, he saw it differently. Sure, he called the pros for anything requiring an engineering feat, but decided he’d do pretty much everything else himself -- between his full time job, fatherhood and sleep. Needless to say, things didn’t go so fast. I dropped not-so-subtle hints about “getting help” as often as I could, but most of the time I was forced to concede. It’s hard to argue with a determined guy who so clearly loves a project. And I figured something else out, too: this was his way of nesting. He wanted to build his family’s shelter from the ground up as a point of pride, and really, once I step over the paint bucket in my doorway, I think that’s pretty sweet.

Flash forward another year and he has since conceded on a few things. The bedroom carpet installation and the new wall in our office, for example, were both handled by professionals. I think we’re really making progress, here.

[Main Image: istockphoto.com]