I am addicted to home improvement shows. I love to watch the experts transform things from ugly to elegant. Watch is the key word. Doing is something else entirely. My dilapidated shed roof however, catapulted me off the sofa and into the role of “Makeover Mama”. The only problem is I don’t have power tools and I don’t have time. All I have is a few stolen hours and a toddler yanking on my pant leg. Oh. Did I mention the wasps?

Monday started out so peaceful; the sun was shinning, the birds where singing, my son was sweeping out the shed. What a great start to the week. Great that is, until I checked on my son’s progress. He was fine, the pool shed roof was not. It sported several holes the size of my “to-do” list.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. The shed was probably built 30 years ago when they built the house; green corrugated plastic sheeting has long since lost its fashion appeal. Replacing a roof was not on my agenda for the week but somehow I had to fit it in. If my husband cooked the meals and the kids did the cleaning . . . I’d die from shock. No, this project had to be my extra-curricular activity for the next few days.

Removing the old roof was my first step. While perched on the ladder, straining to take out a tenacious screw, I looked down to see a half-dozen wasps standing at attention, protecting their own home improvement project. My boisterous activity had disturbed their work and they were not amused. And neither was I. I don’t recall seeing anyone on TV having to work around a raging swarm of wasps. A smart person would have exited stage left. I on the other hand hate to leave a project unfinished so I carefully removed the remaining screws before tiptoeing out the door.

The next day I checked on the shed. I don’t know if it was the lack of screws, lack of experience, or excesses of time, but two of the three support beams lay crumpled on the ground, covered in putrid green sheeting. OK then. I guess I’ll reframe it too.

“Come on Katie, let’s go to Home Depot.” My 15-month-old nymph actually got excited at the invitation, but then again she doesn’t understand English yet. Have you ever spent an hour in a massive warehouse filled with splintery wood, tiny nuts and bolts, boxes of nails, poisonous chemicals, saws and an active toddler who refuses to stay in the shopping cart? Did I mention she has an oral fixation and a very active tongue? She raced up and down the aisles sucking the dust off every object small enough to fit into her mouth. If you shop where we do, I’d stay away from the shiny items.

In between frantic lunges to dislodge foreign metal objects from Katie’s Hoover lips, I attempted to listen to the helpful staff enlightening me on the best type of screws and wood for the job. A look at the prices and I soon found myself admiring the lovely florescent green corrugated plastic sheeting. “Only $6.85 a sheet? I’ll take six.” Some things never lose their charm.

With a flatbed trolley filled with lumber, plastic sheeting and screws I corralled Katie into the insecticide aisle. Those wasps were about to get an eviction notice reading “R.I.P.” Katie squealed with delight when she saw all the colorful bottles with the funny bony faces on them. She didn’t understand why Mommy kept yanking them away from her. She ran from bottle to bottle, ever hopeful that she’d get in at least one lick before I pried away her prize. I wasted no time finding what I needed and sprinting to the nearest exit. Wasps are dispensable, Katie is not.

Teamwork is a key element in home improvement projects. Watch any construction show and you’ll see several men and women working together to complete the job. You never see kids racing around wielding hammers like weapons, unless of course you’re in my house. Here, teamwork consists of one adult occupying the kids while the other frantically tries to finish the job solo. My husband offered to deal with the wasps but his idea of getting rid of the angry insects was to whack their nest down with a broom handle. Since I’m not partial to wasp stings I had him play with our daughter while I used my new handy-dandy wasp spray to permanently and safely neutralize the buzzing ball of stingers.

There was no way I was going to re-roof the shed with Katie taste-testing all my supplies, so I waited until Saturday and sent her packing with her Dad and teenage siblings. While they munched on ice cream and browsed the bookstores I twisted screws into place until my fingers blistered. A disturbing pattern was surfacing. It was becoming increasingly obvious that on this team I was the front line and the rest of the family were cheerleaders. “G-o-o-o-o Mom”!

Once I had the support beams laid out on the pool deck and the plastic sheeting screwed in place, all I had to do was lift the 50 lbs., 13 ft. roof onto the original footings which stood 7 ft. above the ground. OK, so planning is not one of my strong points. When I banished my husband and kids from the house for the day, and took my Super Mom cape to the dry cleaners, I had no idea they would be useful. Who knew? Patience however, is also not one of my strengths so I hiked up my shorts and grabbed hold of the roof like it was a telemarketer calling at dinner time.

Thankfully no one was there to see me wrestling with my handiwork. It was not a pretty sight, but eventually I got the roof balanced on my head like an oversized Vegas hairpiece. After doing the Cha Cha over to the shed I bumped and heaved until the roof dropped into place. A few screws and voila . . . one re-roofed pool shed.

I swept out the dirt and wasp carcasses and stepped back to admire my work. It’s no Frank Lloyd Wright but at least it’s rainproof again. And while I transformed the shed I also transformed myself, from armchair construction buff to do-it-yourself queen. In fact, I think I’ll start my own home improvement show. How does “Makeover Mama” sound?