Let me paint a picture of the mental load that weighs heavily on me as a mother. Recently, I attended a work retreat for a couple of days, leaving behind my husband, Mark, and our three daughters. While weekends are typically chaotic with activities and commitments, this one was particularly packed with events that required meticulous planning and coordination.
Mark is undoubtedly capable of managing the kids and their schedules; he has all the necessary details on his calendar, just like I do. However, the vital nuances—the thoughts and to-do lists swirling in my mind—are what he lacks when I’m away. This is why, after 15 years of parenting together, I always leave him a detailed schedule.
For instance, he might not realize that the youngest’s soccer jersey is freshly washed and still drying. He isn’t considering who to contact for rides for our middle child or how our eldest will get home from her volleyball party. He also may not remember that she needs to bring brownies and that a $20 contribution is required for pizza and the coach’s gift.
This isn’t due to a lack of capability or concern on his part; it’s simply the reality of how our mental load is divided. When I ask for help, he responds, albeit not always in the manner or timeframe I envision. He has his own mental checklist that doesn’t revolve around our domestic life.
There’s an emotional layer to the way I make requests—whether it feels like nagging, why I have to ask, or if he should just know what needs to be done. These tensions are ongoing negotiations in our relationship and have become a widely discussed topic among parents today.
Had I not provided him with a schedule, the weekend would likely have unfolded, albeit with more stress for him and the kids. I know that if I hadn’t shared those details, I too would have felt anxious, worrying over the information he might miss and how our children might feel about misplaced soccer gear or party rides.
Preparing for my absence involved a fair bit of work: I did laundry, stocked the fridge, made sure bills were paid, bought and wrapped gifts, and even baked brownies for the volleyball party before heading to the airport. Despite this preparation, my mind was already occupied with future tasks: scheduling the youngest’s dentist appointment, organizing snacks for the upcoming soccer tournament, and planning Halloween costumes.
Am I complaining? Sure, a bit. This constant juggling makes me anxious and wears me out. I’m starting to recognize the invisible labor that weighs on so many women—the emotional management of our families, partners, and ourselves. I find myself questioning if this burden is inherently linked to gender roles and cultural expectations.
What if I simply stopped managing everything? I suspect my family would adapt, learning to find their own meals or figure out transportation. Would they remember to bake their own brownies or schedule their own appointments? Eventually, they would. And if they didn’t? Life would carry on regardless.
This brings me to a pivotal question: how can I redefine my mental load? Who dictates these responsibilities—myself, societal norms, or the patriarchy? What would it take to let go of the anxiety surrounding emotional discomfort, whether mine or my family’s?
I had hoped for a moment of clarity during my weekend away, free from the usual mental demands. I spent time with a remarkable group of women, learning new things and sharing laughs, but no significant epiphany emerged. That’s alright; I recognize that untangling these thoughts will require time and patience.
Upon returning home, I found the kids fed, the older ones engaged with homework, and the youngest getting ready for bed. The house was in its usual state of disarray—dishes awaited loading, and dog food was inexplicably on the floor. As for the schedule? It seemed to have served its purpose and likely ended up in the recycling.
That night, I settled into bed, grateful for a brief escape from my mental list, drifting into a peaceful, schedule-less sleep.
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Summary: The article delves into the often-overlooked mental load of motherhood, highlighting the complexities and emotional labor involved in managing family life. It raises questions about gender roles and the societal expectations placed on women while also suggesting that a shift in responsibility may be necessary for balance.