The Evolution of the Mental Load

I know I've mentioned this here before, and probably relatively recently, but not long ago I saw another blog post or article about the "mental load", the term for all of the stuff that women (generally moms) take on the brunt of in the home.  It's all the remembering for almost everyone, about everything.  The article was actually about how a couple tries to divide their mental load evenly because the wife expressed her frustration about carrying the bulk of it.  While I applaud their efforts, I wonder what remains undone that the wife just has to let go of, and how much of it ends up being essential stuff.  I can't even imagine what would happen if we tried that.  Part of me feels like we'd only end up worse off because I know things would be missed and somehow I'd end up either dealing with the fallout or feeling guilty about it.  Clearly I don't "let go" very easily.

Recently I got to thinking about how we got to where we are now, where I feel overwhelmed by my share of the mental load.  I realized that it's been a gradual build, but that the main turning point was new motherhood...and most of the evolution is my fault.  But before I get to that, let's look at where we started.  When we were first married, we both worked long hours.  We didn't have a lot of stuff to worry about.  We only had two people--and later a house--to keep track of, and very little of it was urgent.  So, other than Christmas, I feel like things were pretty laid back and easy enough to manage.  We had each lived alone separately before we got married, so we each had a pretty good grasp of our own needs at the time, and divvying up everything else seemed to balance out pretty well.  Anything extra I took on was only because a) I was probably more finicky from the start (i.e., more effort spent decorating, cleaning, cooking, etc.); and b) I didn't travel for work like Craig did, which gave me free weekends and a bit more time to take care of anything that we'd otherwise consider joint.  Then I changed jobs and our free time became even more unbalanced.  While he worked or traveled all weekend, I was home and free to do whatever I wanted.  Perhaps partly out of guilt but mostly out of reason, I took on a bit more.

Then we had a baby.  My realization that spawned this post is that an increased mental load was a coping mechanism for new motherhood.  I was so intent on being the best mother possible that I subconsciously vowed to learn everything possible about my baby so I'd be well-equipped to deal with any issues.  I'd be the master of his eating and sleeping schedules, so that if he cried, I'd know what might soothe him.  I'd be aware of how many diapers we had left so I'd never be caught without a backup.  I'd be the master of the diaper bag because I wanted to be sure we had the exact extra set of clothes we'd need if we had a blowout.  It was a period of forcing myself to take in all of those details so I never found myself unprepared or incapable of taking care of my baby.  Because I nursed and because of Craig's schedule, I also spent more time with Jacob and needed that knowledge more than he did anyway.  Add in sleep deprivation and general new parent panic, and you can imagine that it was pretty much survival mode for a while.  But looking back, if I could have squeezed in just a bit more time to teach Craig some of my tips and tricks, or to empower him to think through the scenarios, I should have.  Sometimes he doesn't absorb details as much as I'd like, though, and I think I probably figured it was a waste of time to tell him something he'd probably forget anyway.

As time went on, things continued to migrate in my direction.  I did the majority of the daycare dropoffs and pickups, so I was the one that knew his teachers and remembered to share details with them each day.  I was the one doing the main grocery shopping, so not only did I have to remember the essentials, but it just made sense that I'd pick up things for Craig since I was going to the store anyway, be it shampoo or razor blades or snacks.  I've always been the cook, but that got more complicated once Jacob started eating real food, and even worse when Carter picked up an intolerance and Jacob ended up with Celiac disease.  I  was also the one to remember to buy snacks or supplies for class parties or activities.

Because I'm generally more organized, I also became the person who had all of the contact information to fill out daycare or school forms, or to call the doctor's office for most appointments.  And because I remember details better, it usually made sense for me to be the one to go to those appointments to ensure I knew exactly what the doctor said.  To be fair, Craig has done his fair share of sick visits with the kids, probably in part because I'm more hesitant (at least outside of flu season) to run to the doctor for something that may be an untreatable virus.  Taking time off of work and paying a co-pay to simply be told it will pass makes me crazy, so he's stepped in among my hesitance quite a bit to take them in anyway.  So there's that.  But if it's a long-standing appointment?  I need to be the one remembering it.

Long story short, it's been this evolution of me taking on a little more here and there--partly because his schedule is busier and partly because I am more neurotic about knowing everything.  And now we're at a point where we're both being pushed to limits and neither of us feels capable of taking more on.  He's not accustomed to needing to be more aware of the big picture, and I panic when I lose my grasp on it.  So what now?

I want to be clear--Craig is a good father.  He cares deeply and does everything he can to keep the kids happy.  He handles the majority of Jacob's sports, and he's happy to take advantage of his more flexible work schedule when he can if something comes up, be it an appointment or a class party.  He works his butt off every day of the week, even working from home most nights.  He still finds time to play with the kids--either sports outside or their epic Lego-army guy-Imaginext-Playmobil battles inside.  He was a bit under the weather for a couple weeks recently, and while he hung in there pretty well, I'll admit I had a hard time being a great partner through it.  It only compounded the pressure I normally feel that I need to handle it all.  I'm sure my self-induced guilt isn't helping matters, either but I just don't know what to do sometimes...and yet I also know it could be so much worse, so what's my problem?

I'm tired, I'm stressed at work, and I'm forgetting things, which was never really the case before.  I haven't had an extended break from work in a long time, and while I know Craig's roadtrips are not vacations, changes of scenery can be renewing in their own way.  I need a vacation.  Preferably with Craig, but I'll take what I can get as long as the kids aren't involved.  I love them, but I need some mental and physical space for a few days.  But it's no secret that they are absolutely brutal to deal with together, so I feel guilty leaving them with anyone.  I feel like the only way we can do it is by separating them and having different parts of the family watch each of them.  But that involves it needing to be when school is out, which complicates things.  Early summer is dominated by Jacob's lacrosse tournaments, and late summer is super busy for me at work.  And then there's the matter of digging into savings for something like this, and the horror of coming back to a pile of work, and maybe it's not worth it after all.  I just feel paralyzed.

I'm sorry if this comes across as complainy.  Usually this blog ends up where I vent and talk myself through things.  Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn't.  I guess I'm just at a loss as to why I'm so worn out, even though on the surface things are fine.  I have a loving husband, two kids, a nice house, a good job, great extended family, and everyone is generally in good health.  The important stuff is all there.  I know I could use a vacation, I know Jacob is no easy task and the kids together are exhausting, and I know I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to do well.  Winter has a way of dragging everyone down, and maybe it's time I go see someone to figure out if that's part of my problem.  But I feel like so many other people, in far worse circumstances, find ways to get stuff done and find joy in their daily life...and despite my efforts, I'm firmly entrenched in blah.  I need a break, I need spring, and I need my kids to just leave each other alone, FTLOG!  Maybe then...