Day 12: The Accidental Rebellion

A series where we see what it’s really like to figure our shit out.

Some days are accidentally rebellious. You don’t plan for it. You don’t light a match and burn the plan to the ground. You just… live. And by the time you look up, it’s 4 p.m., your rhythms are nowhere to be found, and the to-do list is giving you the silent treatment.

Today was one of those days.

After the wedding last night, we woke up to a full house—three extra teenage girls, a fridge that needed restocking, a kitchen that needed love, and a husband who, for once, wasn’t on the road. Add in the fact that Juliette’s birthday party was happening that afternoon, and you can probably picture the chaos.

Josh and I have been together nearly 20 years, married for almost 18. And the truth is—we’re in a transitional season. Not the kind that gets a neat label or a milestone to point to, but the kind where you’re both slowly becoming different people and having to decide to keep meeting each other, again and again. We’re doing it with more grace than we ever have, which is saying something, because there was a time when raised voices and hurtful words were the norm. That’s not our pattern anymore. And I’m truly proud of that. But even progress has its growing pains.

Today was a growing day.

Not the kind where you journal and cry and have a breakthrough. The kind where you feel the tension under the surface all day long—where every moment is a small choice to not react, not retreat, not rewrite the story into something that hurts more. And yeah… that kind of day doesn’t leave much space for routines and rhythms.

Here’s the truth: I could blame the relationship. I could say I couldn’t stick to my rhythm. But that wouldn’t be true. I chose not to. I could have done it. But I didn’t. And that’s not something I’m going to shame myself for. It’s just data. Real-life data from a real-life day.

And it matters that this day is part of the series. Because “doing it even if it sucks” doesn’t mean doing it perfectly. It means picking yourself up, even after the messy days, and staying in the arena.

By the afternoon, Josh and I had a soft landing. No dramatic resolution, no fireworks—just a mutual choice to set the heaviness down and pivot. To be on the same team again. Because today was also Juliette’s birthday party. And she deserved parents who could show up for her.

So we did. We tidied the house, made the grocery run, threw up decorations, and I even made pavlova from scratch—for the first time in my life. (Pro tip: don’t attempt meringue on a humid Texas afternoon, but do it anyway if your 14-year-old wants it.)

We pulled off the kind of frantic house reset only parents know: the quick vacuum lines, the kitchen counters cleared of random mail piles, the grocery cart overflowing with sugar and chips. Somehow, in between all that, I managed pavlova. First time ever. Probably won’t win Bake Off, but it held together and the birthday crew devoured it.

By party time, the vibe had shifted. The girls were giddy, the music was loud, and Josh… well, Josh was hilariously uncomfortable having teenage boys in the house. I told him he better get used to it.

By the time the boys showed up, Josh was hovering in the kitchen like a bodyguard. I swear he aged five years in one evening. And I just laughed — because this is only the beginning.

Because the days are changing. The kids are growing. We’re growing. And even the offbeat, off-rhythm, slightly chaotic days are part of it.