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The mental workload of a mother

Here’s what it consists of. 

The mental workload of a mother

My husband and I thought we had this whole equal marriage thing figured out. We are a modern couple, after all. He is perfectly capable of cooking and cleaning. I know how to use a drill and do yard work. There were times I worked full time and he took care of the house, and there were times when he worked more and I picked up more of the load.


Equality. An egalitarian partnership. Occasionally we had to work some things out, but overall: no problem.

And then we had kids.

It’s impossible to describe just how much the workload increases when kids come along. But one of the most difficult things about the work of parenting is that so much of it is invisible.

So one parent—let’s be honest, usually the dad—can think they are doing the same amount of work as the other. But sometimes they can just be completely unaware of all of the many things that the other parent—usually the mom—is completely taking care of.

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Often the most tiring aspect of this work is being the “Knower of All the Things.” So often the mom is the one who holds all of the behind-the-scenes knowledge about all of the many things involved in raising a kid. The one who plans, who notices, who anticipates, who researches, who worries. This is often referred to as “the mental load.”

The mental load” is not just one job though: it is pervasive. It applies to nearly all aspects of raising kids and managing a household. EVERYTHING.

Why is it so often the mom who carries the mental load? Maybe we tend to be naturally better at these kinds of things, but dads are perfectly capable of carrying that mental load in their jobs and hobbies. So why can’t they more often also carry some of the mental load at home?

Surely this is mostly about our socialization. They don’t because they don’t have to. Because someone else has always done it for them, and it might be completely invisible to them.

So, as a service to fellow moms everywhere, let me spell it out for you, dads. (You’re welcome.)

Here’s what a mother’s “mental load” consists of:

Stuff

Just this week my husband said, “We need to go through all of these toys and get rid of the junk and loose parts.” Guess what? I already do that every couple of months, apparently completely unnoticed.

There is so much stuff everywhere, all the time. We are in a constant war to try to get SOME of it out of the house before the next Christmas when they will get dozens of toys with 10,000 tiny, sharp-edged parts.

Mountains of toys, but also things like sippy cups, broken umbrellas, sports equipment, books, school and art supplies, etc ad infinitum. Anticipating what we will need, deciding what toys are developmentally appropriate, where to take things we’re getting rid of or recycling, noticing what our kid is into now or will be into in the future.

And then there are the clothes. Oh, the hours of my life I have spent sorting through clothes! Mountains of received hand-me-downs, mountains of outgrown clothing.

Do they have the right size, the right season? Do they have the next sizes available for when they grow out of the current one? Will they ever in a million years actually wear this? Let’s place bets on what shoe size they’ll be in when school starts, because who the hell knows.

Gifts

Attending a birthday party? We can’t just show up. We have to buy a gift. We have to think about the age-appropriateness of the gift, what the kid is into, if there’s anything the parents might object to.

And of course, there are the gifts for our own families. All of the Christmas gifts, plus extended family. Picking up things on sale throughout the year that you think they’ll like, finding the best deals. Sometimes moms even take care of their own Mother’s Day gifts.

And let’s not forget things like end-of-year teacher gifts. My husband did not even know this was a thing that existed in the world.

Staying connected

Keeping in touch with family, remembering birthdays, posting pictures for grandma on Facebook, planning family gatherings and visits, getting kids to write letters and make homemade birthday cards for grandpa, making sure they get to spend quality time with their cousins. Organizing playdates with friends, knowing who they are hanging out with, who they are having conflicts with, who is a good influence and who is not. Knowing who their parents are and if it’s a safe place to sleepover.

School

Oh, the never-ending paperwork of school: So many school forms. Reading records. Permission slips. Emergency contact forms. Multi-page forms for every activity. And then there’s overseeing homework, knowing what they are struggling with, knowing when to contact the teacher, making sure they put the homework BACK IN THE BACKPACK FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, preparing for class parties and holidays, choosing school supplies, packing lunches or sending lunch money, bus schedules, Mom-I-forgot-I-need-cupcakes-TOMORROW, communicated at 9 p.m.

Calendar

Managing the family calendar, anticipating schedules for each season, noticing conflicts: this takes up a huge amount of brain space. Just a sampling of the things we have to consider: school schedule (especially weird days off that sneak up on us), bus schedules, concerts, recitals, lessons, class parties, field trips, work travel, childcare, doctor appointments (if there are any chronic health needs in the family this becomes a part-time job in itself), dentist appointments, school meetings, teacher conferences, haircuts, sleepovers, birthday parties, summer camps, and all of the things that everybody forgets to tell you about.

Meal planning

Planning and shopping to a budget, but also noticing what staples are running low, knowing what everyone will actually eat at any given time, knowing when someone must be having a growth spurt because they are eating enough to feed a small army, balancing health concerns with treats and favorites.

Emotional needs

And finally, looking after the emotional needs of the family. We think about what is going on in everyone’s emotional world.

Who needs some extra support and hugs, who needs to talk, who needs some space and freedom to figure things out on their own? Who is not feeling well and needs cuddles? How can we help them manage their anger better, channel their anxiety, learn empathy for others, treat people kindly, be less bossy? The world sorely needs men who do a better job of noticing how other people feel. Dads, this starts with you.

Tired yet? This is only the tip of the iceberg. And it doesn’t even cover crises and catastrophes. The list is endless and could fill a whole book.

Originally posted on The Wild Word.

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My first baby and I were alone in our Brooklyn apartment during a particularly cold spring with yet another day of no plans. My husband was back at work after a mere three weeks of parental leave (what a joke!) and all my friends were busy with their childless lives—which kept them too busy to stop by or check in (making me, at times, feel jealous).

It was another day in which I would wait for baby to fall asleep for nap number one so I could shower and get ready to attempt to get out of the house together to do something, anything really, so I wouldn't feel the walls of the apartment close in on me by the time the second nap rolled around. I would pack all the diapers and toys and pacifiers and pump and bottles into a ginormous stroller that was already too heavy to push without a baby in it .

Then I would spend so much time figuring out where we could go with said stroller, because I wanted to avoid places with steps or narrow doors (I couldn't lift the stroller by myself and I was too embarrassed to ask strangers for help—also hi, New Yorkers, please help new moms when you see them huffing and puffing up the subway stairs, okay?). Then I would obsess about the weather, was it too cold to bring the baby out? And by the time I thought I had our adventure planned, the baby would wake up, I would still be in my PJs and it was time to pump yet again.

Slowly, but surely, and mostly thanks to sleep deprivation and isolation, I began to detest this whole new mom life. I've always been a social butterfly. I moved to New York because I craved that non-stop energy the city has and in the years before having my baby I amassed new friends I made through my daily adventures. I would never stop. I would walk everywhere just to take in the scenery and was always on the move.

Now I had this ball and chain attached to me, I thought, that didn't even allow me to make it out of the door to walk the dog. This sucks, I would think regularly, followed by maybe I'm not meant to be a mom after all.


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