How to Not Kill Each Other During a Home Remodel (And Other Life Transitions)

There’s something uniquely disorienting about not having a kitchen.

It’s not just the inconvenience of washing dishes in the bathtub or setting up a makeshift station with paper plates and a folding table. It’s the way it throws off your entire sense of home. You reach for water and forget where your bottle is. You can’t cook. You can’t clean. Everything feels… off.

And then your 2-year-old enters peak tantrum mode.

Welcome to our life right now.

We’re in the middle of a full kitchen remodel, and honestly? It’s been a crash course in everything we thought we already knew about navigating stress as a couple. Turns out, we’re still students.

Roger had a realization recently: the anxiety he feels during this remodel is the exact same anxiety he felt when we bought our first home. The same knot in his stomach. The same spiral about the budget. The same pressure to make everything perfect, right now, for me.

And here’s the thing—it’s not just about remodeling. It’s about thresholds. Those big life transitions that make you feel like you’re standing on shaky ground. Getting married. Having a baby. Moving cities. Changing careers. They all tap into the same emotional wells.

For Roger, that well is budget anxiety. The fear of overspending. The pressure to provide. The story in his head that says, “If I can’t make her happy right now, I’m failing.”

When our new cabinets arrived and didn’t quite match the floors, I mentioned we might want to replace the tile. His stress skyrocketed. Not because of the money itself—but because of the pressure he’d put on himself to fix it immediately.

Here’s what we’ve learned: there’s always a middle ground.

I don’t need the floors done tomorrow. I just need to feel seen. I need Roger to acknowledge my vision, to say, “I get it. Let’s build toward that.” That’s it. That simple acknowledgment takes the charge out of the moment.

And on his side? He needs to hear that I’m not asking for perfection right now. That we can phase things. That my request isn’t a demand.

Most couple fights aren’t actually about the thing you’re fighting about. They’re about feeling dismissed, unseen, or like you’re on opposite teams. The floors aren’t the issue. The budget isn’t even the issue. It’s whether or not we can meet each other where we are and say, “I see you. Let’s figure this out together.”

One of the most powerful lessons from this season has been learning to sit in discomfort instead of running from it.

Growth doesn’t happen in comfort. It happens when you push the edge of what you can handle—just like lifting heavier weights at the gym. Your muscles only grow when you stress them just beyond their current capacity.

The same is true emotionally. If you want a stronger marriage, a deeper connection, a more resilient nervous system—you have to practice staying present when things feel hard. You can’t distract your way out. You can’t fix your way out. You have to be in it a little longer each time.

For me, that’s looked like resisting the urge to spiral when I see mismatched floors. For Roger, it’s looked like catching the story that says “this has to be done NOW” and questioning whether it’s actually true.

So how do you actually stay connected when life is throwing lemons at you from every direction?

1. Remind yourself: this is temporary.
Roger keeps saying this, and it helps. The chaos won’t last forever. The discomfort is a season, not a permanent state.

2. Validate emotions without fixing them.
This one is huge. Most of us (especially the Type-A folks) want to solve when our partner is upset. But often, they don’t need a solution. They just need to be heard. A simple, “That sounds really stressful” can do more than any advice.

Roger’s been reading Never Split the Difference by Chris Voss (an FBI negotiator), and one of the core principles is empathy. Even when negotiating with a bank robber, the first rule is to understand what they’re going through. If that works with criminals, it definitely works with your spouse.

3. Practice empathy, even when you’re triggered.
It’s hard to step outside your own emotions when you’re riled up. But if you can pause and ask, “What is my partner actually feeling right now?”—everything softens. You stop seeing them as the problem and start seeing them as a teammate going through something hard.

4. Don’t catch their anxiety.
Imagine your partner throws a ball of stress at you. You don’t have to catch it. You can just… step aside. Acknowledge it. Say, “I see you’re stressed.” But don’t absorb it as your own.

We’re not perfect at this. We’re figuring it out in real time, just like you.

But what we are getting better at is choosing connection over reaction. Choosing to see each other as teammates, not opponents. Choosing to expand our capacity instead of shutting down.

And honestly? That’s the work. Not the remodel. Not the floors. Not the budget. The work is showing up for each other when everything feels messy and saying, “We’re in this together.”

Since we literally can’t cook right now, we’ve started what we’re calling our “No-Kitchen Dinner Tour”—visiting friends and having dinner with them while our kitchen is out of commission. It’s been such a beautiful reminder that community matters, especially during chaotic seasons.

If you’re in Phoenix, Arizona and want to host us for dinner (or if you’re going through your own kitchen-less season and need meal ideas), sign up for a dinner stop. We’d love to connect IRL.

If you want to hear the full conversation (including Roger’s budget breakdown and my rant about mismatched floors), listen to the full episode. We’d love to have you join us.

Because legacy isn’t built on one big decision. It’s built on small, conscious moments. And every time you respond differently, you shift your family’s trajectory.

Kristen & Roger