When D-I-Y Becomes D-I-Why?

One of my biggest personality contradictions emerges anytime I get inspiration to do something new to my house. You see, I’m typically lacking in confidence—even when I know I should follow my gut. For unknown reasons, when it comes to implementing the latest design idea that pops up in my head, I’m over confident.

Now, I’m not saying that I have zero DIY skills. I’ve always had an interest and a partial ability. When I was a teenager, my mom, who is not a fan of interior design, let me experiment all over her house. Looking back, this was quite the gamble—one that turned out sub par most of the time. In my sponging era, I painted the upstairs bathroom light green and then did a darker green sponge job overlay. The result was a moss with an identity confusion situation all over the walls. A personal rainforest, if you will. Remarkably, it remains there twenty-five years later.

Ooooof.

I also learned the art of wallpapering at my parents’ house. They later learned the art of wallpaper removal. In fairness to me, the wallpaper design eventually was quite dated, but my actual wallpapering skills are solidly B+ quality. I’ve done many’a wallpapering job since, and the finished product typically passes even my own Enneagram One critical eye. I’m available for hire for the price of a bottle of champagne. However, my sister and I learned the hard way that it’s best to keep that bottle corked until the job is done. Lucky for us, she chose a peel and stick type of wallpaper (easy to remove and fix) and our friend Ashlee showed up just in time with a fresh set of eyes to save us from ourselves.

It’s an art.

When I offered to tile my parents’ back porch as a teen, they should have drawn the line. Instead, they allowed me to use my restaurant server earnings to buy a wet tile saw and use it at the ripe age of seventeen. Talk about a Montessori approach! Now, I’m sure I had a safety briefing beforehand because that’s the kind of guy my dad has always been. But my own recollection is using this thing completely on my own for the entirety of the job. In case you’re curious, yes, I still have all my appendages (against the odds). And yes, the tile job remains on the back porch. Also yes, I’ve done many tile jobs since—with the same tile saw for twenty plus years. One of my best investments! However, my tile skills deserve the grade of C. This is an area where I should absolutely know my limitations but refuse to acknowledge them. Next time will be different!

Recently, I fell victim to Instagram DIY influencers and decided I could gut and renovate an entire powder room on my own in about a week. My husband would not be required for this job, damn it. I ordered everything up and got to work. The seven-day clock was ticking.

Things were going well on the gut job until I got to removing the toilet. There’s a feeling I get when I know I’m in over my head DIYing—I can’t exactly describe it but I know the sensation. So, tail between my legs, I cowered over to the husbo and admitted defeat about five percent of the way into this job. As if the admission wasn’t enough, I had to endure the “I told you so” grin to boot.

With a couple of hammers and the brut force of myself and an eight-year-old, the tile came up and we had ourselves a blank slate.

Now, because of my C grade tile skills and given the intricate herringbone pattern and delicate marble tile I picked out, I’d like to give myself a pat on the back here and let you know that I did hire out this job.

But then the guy quit before he started. And then another one quit, and another one wouldn’t even call me back. So, my patience with having to trek a flight of stairs to use the restroom wearing thin, I busted out the ol’ tile saw and got to work. The result? Looks great. Just don’t look too close. (More patience with a real tradesperson would have been the way to go here. Live and learn. Or don’t. Whatever.) And hey, that week-long bathroom reno was only over by about two months!

I’ve had my wins, and I suppose that’s what keeps me going. Lately, I’ve self-taught how to do wall paneling and it doesn’t look half bad! After the first room, I learned that you don’t even need a saw. These handy clippers work incredibly well, make the job 10x faster, and ensure the longevity of your appendages. (Just make sure you buy PVC-made paneling, not wood, to use these babies. Found that out the hard way.)

I also installed a stair runner and only one part is crooked.

In the “never again” category is any sort of work requiring lots of sanding inside. Our stairs were half sanded for the better part of a year. That work is grueling, disgusting, horrible for people with sensitivities, and just plain gross. And then when you’re done sanding, you get to endure the potent staining smells. Ugh.

Recently, I decided I wanted to connect my bedroom to another (small) bedroom that will become a glorified closet/dressing room. Should be easy enough to make a doorway, right? Ensuring my husband wasn’t home, I made some large holes in the wall to see what was inside. That’s about the point when the overwhelmed feeling kicked in. I decided it was best to await his return before proceeding further. He arrived, stunned at what he saw.

“You think this wall is load-bearing?” I asked.

“Next time, maybe call me first before you put holes in the wall,” he replied.

Remarkable patience for a man who has endured my over-confident DIYing for sixteen years and counting. The wall holes remain weeks later with no clear direction on how to proceed.

Anyway, I’d love to keep telling you my DIY stories but I’ve got some drywall cutting to do.

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