Overestimating my abilities?

Occasionally, I get a wild impulse to take on some do-it-yourself project, as was the case in my bathroom facelift last year. It’s funny, this concept of impulse. Truly, the way it works is that something has been bugging me for too long and finally, one day, I can’t take it anymore, so I decide to fix it. So really, it has been stewing in my mind forever, but the actual act of taking on the project is impulsive.


Ever since we moved into our house four years ago, I have hated the colors in our kitchen. I don’t like the 80s beige-y fake wood cabinets. I despise the flat-painted off-white walls that hold on to every finger print and piece of food.

10 days ago, I stood in my kitchen looking out at the fall weather and realizing that we’re coming up to the “dark months” of the year. I knew that I would be stuck inside a lot. I knew those walls were simply going to get finger printier. I have come to grips with the fact that we can’t afford to move out of our tiny house any time soon, so why not change what I can about it to enjoy it a little more?

A trip to Home Depot with three totally tantruming kids later, and I had a gallon of paint for the walls and a kit to refinish the cabinets.

I tagged Clint in this picture on Facebook with the caption “Clint, you’re wife is up to something…”


That’s one awesome thing about my husband. I can start crazy projects like that and he just smiles and nods in that humored, “I’m married to a nutcase” kind of way.

I got the impulse to start this project at 10am on September 14th. Swear to Bob… I thought I was going to have it done, or at least mostly done, by the time Clint came home from work that night.


I didn’t take into account the fact that the cabinets would need nearly five friggin’ coats of paint. I also failed to account for whine breaks. Not wine. Whine. Like this:


So, my project took about 9 days longer than I had anticipated. I had wanted to do the whole thing by myself, to say I had conquered this sweet DIY project on my own, but on day 4, when the kitchen still looked like this:
And my entire body looked like this:


…I asked for help.

And by asked, I mean begged.

A friend agreed to come help and he and Clint took on the wall painting while I touched up the base. It was like I had cloned myself twice, but my other two clones were taller than me. And dudes. Together, we got more done in 3 hours, than I had accomplished in about 3 days.


It took me a few more days of touching up, fixing boo-boos, protective coating, and being way too OCD about clean lines, but in the end, it turned out friggin’ awesome. Wanna see?


I have a curtain that will go on the back door and some white floating shelves to install on the walls, and I absolutely despise that light fixture, but I think it turned out pretty great! The best part is that everything in my kitchen is now wipe-off-able. Even those white cabinets have a special protective glaze that lets me wipe off those gooey kid prints. Yippeeeee!

I’m not sure if I overestimated my abilities so much as underestimated the time it would take to do this job. Thank goodness I had some help, or I’d probably still be chipping away at the project, one brush stroke at a time.
Have you ever taken on a DIY project that turned out to be more work than you expected? Do you have any DIY horror stories? I’d love to hear them!


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