Before the Wonderful Husband and I got married, we did a lot of home improvement work together. It’s one of the reasons that I thought we’d have a great marriage, because we were able to work on large-scale projects without wanting to kill each other. It seemed like a good indicator that we would be good partners in life.

That was before we added three kids, a cat, homework, extracurriculars, two more than full-time jobs, and a lot of exhaustion to the mix. For the past few years, we’ve had to take the divide-and-conquer approach. One of us would take the kids and run them while the other one tried to accomplish something. The time windows were never long enough, and there was always some resentment building: The one who had to run and juggle three kids was jealous of the one who stayed home with one task, and the one with one task was mad that they missed out on what was sure to be a milestone in one of the kids’ lives.

We’ve been putting off the major jobs for years and trying to get by with completing lots of “little” jobs to claim some kind of progress. Finally, we reached a breaking point. We had a “come to Jesus” moment recently and we finally decided that we needed to bite the bullet and really commit to getting at least one large project done. Being in the middle of baseball season and end of the school year chaos, there was only one way it was going to happen. We both had to take a week’s vacation and spend at least eight hours a day getting it done.

I cheated a little bit, because I had a week of vacation carried over from last year, but for the WH, this was a major sacrifice of hunting time, although he did plan to go out for turkeys in the morning while I was getting the kids off to school. With all the solemnity of two kids slicing their palms and making a blood oath, we agreed to get it done.

I was looking forward to a week of being away from my desk, away from my computer, getting my hands dirty, and most of all fixing things up. I started making up color-coded to-do lists, and picking paint swatches, and looking into flooring options.

Part of the project included repainting the kids’ bedrooms, and I informed them that this was the last time I planned on painting bedrooms, so we were going to keep things pretty neutral. We discussed getting wall hangings or throw rugs or wall decals to change things out a little.

E eagerly set to work invading my Pinterest account. Enthusiasm was running high on everyone’s part.

Over the weekend, I shared our plans with our friends. I was met with raised eyebrows and looks of disbelief. “Really?” “You and the WH?” “Working together, alone, all week?” Then they all started placing bets as to how long we’d last before one of us was wearing a paint brush.

“You’re not going to have a nail gun lying around, are you?” was a popular question. Several of them asked if they needed to check in with me daily or hourly to see if I needed to be talked off a ledge. That’s my village, always keeping it real! They know us too well.

I knew exactly where they were coming from, too. Lately, we have found ourselves at each other’s throats while doing something as simple as making breakfast. Our previously stellar teamwork goes right out the window when someone isn’t washing the dishes the right way or interrupts making the perfect omelet. A week was starting to look like a very long time when just crossing paths in the kitchen could lead to snarls.

Wanting to start things out right, I set the mood with music, some headbanging, heart-pounding AC/DC, one of the few musical selections we can agree on. Was it an omen that the second song to come on the playlist was “Highway to Hell?”

I shouldn’t have worried, though. In no time at all, we fell right back into our old routine. He ripped up carpeting while I scrubbed down windowsills. He spackled while I taped off edges. He cut in corners while I rolled walls. We were right back into our routine from a long time ago, and it was reassuring to find out that once we cut away all the kid chaos and our stress over work, we were still those bright-eyed, enthusiastic kids we were 15 years ago.

Breaking for lunch also meant having a chance to sit down, one on one, without constant interruptions, and have meaningful conversations. We ran the gamut over the course of the week, from paint colors and floor styles, to our hopes and fears and worries about our kids, to our summer vacation plans, to the fact that we’re going to have to look into a new car in the near future. Usually we have these conversations halfheartedly, over the tops of kids, mouthing words that we might not want little ears to pick up on, which has led to more than one miscommunication, sometimes hilarious, sometimes sad, and half the time, never reaching an actual resolution.

At the end of the week, we only accomplished 2/3 of the jobs we had planned. Apparently, we’ve gotten old and no longer renovate at the speed of light. The little bit of progress that we did make, though, is inspiring and has us motivated to get more done, sooner. Reconnecting as a couple might also be a big incentive to getting more work, done, too.

For some couples, date nights keep the flame alive. For the WH and me, though, paint brushes and spackle are our happily ever after.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.