The Great Woodwork vs. Walls Debate
You know, I find that some of the best life lessons come when you’re knee-deep in paint and sawdust. Just last month, I decided to tackle the enormous task of sprucing up my living room. It was a project I’d been putting off—like, forever—and I figured, “How hard could it be?” Oh, boy, was I in for a ride.
So, I brewed myself a strong cup of coffee and dove headfirst into this daunting decision of whether to paint the woodwork before the walls. The trim and molding were this awful dingy white—like the color of old paper—and I just knew they had to change. But then the wheels started turning in my head. Should I paint the trim first, or would it just be easier to do the walls and then tackle the woodwork? Little did I know, this would turn into a decision almost as bad as picking a new paint color.
The Faux Pas of Timber Choices
Let me rewind for a second to give you a bit of context. I had bought some high-quality Benjamin Moore paint for the woodwork. I was feeling fancy, and I splurged a bit—because let’s face it, I wanted it to last and look crisp. I just loved that fresh smell of paint—like a new beginning. But it also had this weird, almost sweet edge that reminded me of my grandmother’s kitchen, which I think might’ve been a little too long since the last coat was put on.
But then, as I stood there staring at the trim and trying to figure it all out, I remembered that I also had a gallon of Sky Blue for the walls just sitting there. I could almost see the happiness it would bring to the room. And I began to question everything. “What if I mess up the baseboards? What if the wall paint gets on the trim and ruins that crisp line?” So, I made a decision—let’s tackle the woodwork first and then the walls.
The Mishaps of the Paint
As I started to paint the trim, I really began to notice the grooves and corners of the woodwork—a mix of pine and oak, I think? The brush got caught in those little nooks, and I was mortified. I was using one of those angled brushes, you know the ones that you think will be handy but end up making you feel like you’re juggling? I almost gave up at one point. I said to myself, “What’s the point? I’m just going to mess up the walls later!” But my stubbornness kicked in. Plus, I was fully invested—the corner of my wall had a bright white patch where I’d started, and I couldn’t bear the thought of stopping.
So there I was, battling sticky paint and unpredictable brush strokes. I caught the edge of my sleeve on the ladder, and I swear I felt a piece of my dignity chip away when I saw that first streak of blue on my once-pristine white shirt. I had to chuckle about it. “Well, guess this is what it means to remodel,” I thought.
It’s All in the Details
When I finally finished the trim, I stepped back and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It looked decent, I’ll give myself that. The sun hit it just right, and it shone like a little beacon of hope against the walls. But as I started on the Sky Blue on the walls, I realized something important. I actually had it backwards—painting the walls first would have been a lot simpler. The heart-stopping blunders? They could have been avoided. Spills were inevitable, no matter how many drop cloths I laid down.
Every time I tried to hug the edge of the woodwork with a roller, my heart was in my throat. “What if I don’t get that clean line? What if I accidentally splatter the new color all over my newly painted trim?” But, when I finally pulled off the painter’s tape, I laughed out loud—like, an honest-to-goodness cackle—because the line was razor-sharp. The satisfaction! That tiny moment made all the headaches worth it.
A Room Transformed
When it was all said and done, I brought my family in for the big reveal. The kids were running around and shouting, “This is so cool, Dad!” They couldn’t stop touching the walls, like it was their first time seeing an ocean wave. There was a warmth, a lightness in the air that I hadn’t noticed before. As we settled down, it hit me: mornings spent sipping coffee and laughter shared in a transformed space were all worth the struggle.
If I had to do it all again, maybe I’d bust out my nostalgia and pick a different order. Painting the walls first would’ve made more sense, honestly. But, regardless, I learned that it’s the imperfections that shape our spaces and ourselves. So, if you’re thinking about trying this sort of DIY project, just go for it. Embrace the mess, the laughter, and even the occasional paint-splatter mishap. At the end of the day, it’s just paint—and life is too short for perfect walls.
