I've spent countless hours washing, rinsing, priming, and painting all of the walls in our new house, and didn't realize how protective of them I'd become until my partner leaned against the living room wall. I'm still ashamed of the look that passed over my face...
I rearranged my features into a loving configuration as quickly as I could, but surely there was an unmistakable, deranged flash of, "These walls are not for touching or leaning, unless maybe we've just washed and dried our hands and changed into fresh clean clothes the exact color of the paint. Art-hanging is okay, once we determine the absolute perfect spot, but all the rainy-day games of Ninjas and Monkey-In-The-Middle and Elf Archers and Flying Screaming Monkey Attack are a thing of the past. And maybe I'll just repaint that spot right now..." in my eyes.
This is not what I'm usually like at all, but I feel a mild maternal instinct to protect the walls I've put so much time and energy into. They're so new and pretty and perfect, and I'd like to keep them that way as long as possible.
I remind myself that the walls have 2 or 3 coats of paint, and that paint is affordable, and that touch-ups are totally doable. But I especially remind myself that my partner has had to watch me traipse, paint tray in one hand and paint-soaked roller or dripping brush in the other, all over the gorgeous new floors that he'd installed — and nary a flicker of fear or frustration had past over his features.
Are you protective of your projects? If so, what do you do to stay sane?