LONE WOLF
The way I did it.
I asked for help.
This experiment was one of the more difficult for me. Asking for help feels like admitting defeat. I’ve always done things myself.
Big things.
Home improvement projects may be the best example. It wasn’t long into our marriage that I discovered that my husband and I had very different ideas on this subject. There are definitely two kinds of people in the home improvement realm. Those who love new tools, working with their hands, and the reward of transformation—that would be ME—and those who enjoy the reveal part of a renovation—HIM. My vision was that I would play the role of project manager to his role of the muscle.
But it didn’t always work out that way … I’ve hung sheets of 4 × 8 drywall, taped, mudded, and added the finishing texture by myself. I designed and installed a wooden fence, including digging the post holes and cementing them in the ground by myself. And I did them both with the confidence of a YouTube University graduate. Yes … I was (and still am) that stubborn.
To be fair, we completed several projects together when we first bought our fixer-upper home. I loved the feeling when a job was completed. The smell of sawdust and the sound of power tools … I didn’t want to quit. My husband, on the other hand, activated his selective hearing. The team effort dissolved, even though my enthusiasm didn’t.
From my current vantage point at the summit of a dog hair accumulation crisis, I realize it isn’t help with big projects that I’m searching for, although I still love a good project. I need help with the day-to-day stuff.
You know that saying, “You don’t know how good things are until they’re gone”? I was talking to a friend recently about how much work she had to do while her husband was out of town. She was amazed at how much he did, and further amazed that she hadn’t noticed his contributions until he was gone. Like me, she thought her husband didn’t do much of anything around the house.
The same can be said for the kids. I remember thinking that the kids added so much work! Which they did, but they also helped a fair amount. We loved playing the “two-minute tidy” game. It was amazing how much better the house looked if we all cleaned for a mere two minutes.
So here I was, feeling overwhelmed by all the dusting, not to mention mopping the floors. I whined and nagged my husband for a few weeks. This had the opposite result than what I was looking for. Negotiations stalled; silence increased. Not good. So, I called a friend who owns a cleaning company for advice.
I asked for help and then panicked. And here’s another saying that I’ve found to be true … before the cleaners come to clean your house … you clean it!
How was I going to find time to clean the house before the cleaners arrived? As if I could hide the mess from professionals. But still, I didn’t want ANYONE to see our bathrooms, windows, and floors! I needed help. I asked for help, and then I realized why I never ask for help. It wasn’t because I was stubborn … I was embarrassed!
The results of this experiment are still in progress. It will take a little time to get the help I need, and there will be a “breaking in” phase. Not just for the cleaners to learn our house and make friends with Panzer, our large dog, but for me to accept help without feeling defeated and embarrassed. It turns out that the hardest part isn’t letting someone else clean the house. It’s letting someone else see that I needed help.
The way I did it. Lone Wolf.
This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to do—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.
Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers
Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, and things I’m still working on.