Mental Load of mothers

MENTAL LOAD OF MOTHERS: The burden we carry every day, and no one sees it!

Early morning, somewhere around half past five. I haven’t opened my eyes yet, because I know I still have time to sleep before the alarm announces the start of a new workday. But my mind doesn’t care.

It starts racing at full speed:

• What should I pack for Sofka’s snack today (I’m already going through the fridge in my head, checking what we have right now);
• I need to pack her helmet and ski gloves too, because today she’s going ice skating with her school;
• Don’t forget to give her money for the theater, the teacher said they’re going next week.
• Oh no, I still haven’t gone down to the basement to see what we can donate to the collection drive for the local homeless shelter!
• Beni is coming to work with me today, don’t forget to pack his medicine in case he gets sick again;
• Also don’t forget to bring his food;
• What should I make for my own lunch?
• No, wait, today is Thursday: you agreed with Ana to order salad;
• So don’t forget to bring cash, so you can actually pay for that salad.
• Did I book Sofka’s eye check-up, or didn’t I?
• She complained that her gym shoes are too small, so I need to buy her new ones.
• And does she have enough socks?
• After work I have to stop by the store to buy a gift for a colleague who’s going on maternity leave, what was it I still needed…
• Oh right, don’t forget to bring the card so the other colleagues can sign it;
• Oh no, I also have to come up with something to write in the card…
• When is Beni due for his next vitamin shot again?
• Does he have enough food for the holidays, or should I stop by after work to buy more?
• And wait, when is the vet even open today?

And on and on it goes… I make endless mental lists, just like Sarah Jessica Parker in the movie “Working Mum”. Until I finally make myself open my eyes and get up.

I know I’m not the only one. We all do it. Some of us before bed, and some, like me, before we even open our eyes.

And so it goes every single day, without us even realizing how much time and energy it takes from us.

I wasn’t aware myself of how many thoughts like these run through my head every day. What I haven’t done, what I need to do, what I’ve forgotten…

And of course, on top of that come the thoughts that I’m not trying hard enough, that maybe I could have worked half an hour longer, or spent an hour longer with Sofka…

And when was the last time I wrote something new?

Yes, science has a name for it, and that makes it real, tangible.

No, it’s not you. It’s a problem all of us share, and it’s called mental load, which is typical, surprise surprise, of mothers.

I first became truly aware of it while reading the book “The Discomfort of the Modern Mother” (Das Unwohlsein der modernen Mutter, my own translation) by Mareice Kaiser:

“Mental load is the mental and organizational burden someone has to carry to keep the household and family obligations running, a burden that often remains invisible to others.” (p. 87)

“Superpower” or chronic overload?

As women, we are socially conditioned to take care of others from an early age, and we believe that “multitasking” is a typical female “superpower”, especially for mothers. We feel strong and important when we manage to take care of everyone and everything.

We can do it all, and all at the same time.

And yet we’re not even aware of how overwhelming it all is.

So it’s not a superpower of us women, nor an obsession with always keeping everything under control. It’s a mental burden that we, by accepting the role of mother, unknowingly started carrying on our backs as if it were a fashion accessory.

And then we wonder why we’re so worn out. Why at some point we simply can’t go on.

That’s why: because we “work” 24 hours a day, every day, without stopping and without the rest we so badly need.

For so long I lived convinced that my mom-multitasking was my superpower.

No, I’m not a control freak after all. Congratulations to me, I fell for it.

Well done patriarchy, well done.

I know that my partnership with Marko isn’t like most marriages today. Even after 12 years of marriage, it’s completely natural for us to take turns with the housework, to both take care of Sofka and Beni, and of each other, and somehow that’s just a given for us.

If he sees the laundry basket is full, he’ll simply put a load in.

If I see the trash can is full, I’ll take it out.

But unfortunately for me, he still hasn’t learned to read my mind.

And that is actually one of the biggest misconceptions of our time: that a partner should just know on his own what you need or what bothers you.

I always thought the two of us communicated well enough and shared the responsibilities of our life together. But only after reading that book did I realize how much invisible mental effort I put in and use up, completely unaware that I’m doing it.

As life usually goes, right around the time I started learning about mental load, one day over coffee Marko asked me out of nowhere:

“You know, I’ve noticed that you’re always the one who organizes Sofka’s doctor appointments. I have no idea when her next eye check-up is, or the dentist.” “Interesting that you noticed. I booked the first few appointments on autopilot, and after that I simply took over organizing every one of them. But to be honest, it weighs on me to have to think about everything… Since we’re talking about it, maybe it’s a good time to tell you that in the morning, right before I wake up, I usually start going over in my head everything that needs to be done, packed or booked.” “Well then, no wonder you’re already so tired by 8 in the evening! Hey, I’m here, how can I make it easier for you? Here, I’ll take over the doctor appointments!”

And just like that, part of the weight fell off my shoulders.

From chaos to a color-coded calendar

Good organization doesn’t mean the feeling of mental load will go away, but it can reduce it to some extent.

Why remember when I can write it down is my motto. It reduces the chaos in my head considerably, but unfortunately doesn’t take it away completely.

As a family, we went a step further. To make family planning easier, Marko and I share a Google Calendar on our phones, with all the important family and individual appointments in it.

A good friend once told me, when we were trying to find the next free evening in my calendar for a board game night:

“Your calendar looks like Tetris, with all those entries and different colors! How do you even find your way around that chaos?”

But when I look at our family calendar, I don’t see chaos, I see a clear structure. I don’t even have to read what each entry says; the color alone tells me whose appointment it is and when we as a family have free time for extra activities, like playing games with friends.

Of course, there’s a whole system behind every color, and it makes our life easier. Sofka’s appointments are apricot, mine are purple, Marko’s light blue, family ones yellow, and the really important ones, like doctor visits, are red. And no, I’m not the only one adding appointments, we both do it.

Marko knows at any moment when Sofka has her next doctor’s appointment, or when I’m going to the movies with colleagues, just as I know when he goes to yoga or plays Sony PlayStation with friends.

A mental spin cycle that never stops

But yes, despite all our good organization and how well we function, only after reading that book did I realize that, yes, my feminism lives in my relationship, but I too am a victim of the mental load that all mothers carry.

Because I’m the one who thinks about all the doctor appointments being booked on time, about no check-up being forgotten, and no birthday party either, or buying a gift for it.

About when, during the school week, Sofka needs to bring her skating gear; whether I gave her money for the theater trip or signed the consent form for her photo to be posted on the website.

Then of course there are the dog’s check-ups, vaccines and medicine.

Plus: organize enough activities and playdates during the school holidays so she isn’t bored, but also isn’t overwhelmed and has enough time to rest, play on her own and even be bored. Yes, mothers worry about that too, meaning me.

And no, I don’t mean to say that it’s hard for me to take care of my family or friends.

On the contrary, I did choose to be a wife and a mother, but I don’t remember signing up anywhere for extra mental load and a constant guilty conscience.

Or does mental load fall under the “side effects” or the “terms of use” written into the marriage contract in ultra-fine print that nobody reads?

Or, like in Goethe’s Faust, did all of us mothers sign an invisible contract with the devil the moment we agreed to bring a new being into this world? Except that in our case the sneaky devil is even sneakier: patriarchy.

Unlike Faust, we have a way out, and we can find it on our own or, even better, with the help of our partners, if we have them.

All the emotional and mental work we contribute is far from visible and even further from respected.

Not to mention any material compensation for it. I was shocked myself to learn that until the middle of the Middle Ages and the beginnings of early capitalism, work at home and caring for the family were actually seen as equal to work outside the home. Because someone had to do both.

This is also what Silvia Federici writes about in her book Caliban and the Witch. Before capitalism took hold, in feudal communities, women took part in various aspects of production and had access to common resources.

Silvia Federici stresses that women back then enjoyed a certain degree of autonomy, and their work was visible and valued within the community. With the rise of capitalism, however, came a systematic devaluation of women’s work.

Federici argues that capitalism established a new social division of labor that pushed women into the sphere of unpaid domestic and reproductive work, which made their contribution invisible and undervalued.

Physical work, or the lack of it, can be measured.

If someone hasn’t done the dishes, you can see them in the sink, you can touch them.

But this mental work is invisible, and that’s why many people don’t even know we do it, or others don’t notice its weight.

And that is exactly the catch with mental load. It has no switch to turn it off, and no red light to show others that it’s running at full capacity right now.

That’s why it matters, first of all, that we become aware of it, so we can recognize it in ourselves and try to cope with it, or at least reduce it.

So that the burden becomes a little pile, and then one day maybe disappears completely, so that the racing thoughts and endless to-do lists shrink, and the moment they’re written down on paper or in a calendar, that’s where they stay.

So that the needless noise in our heads stops.

That’s the goal.

We don’t need “help”, we need equality

The first step toward something better is recognizing that the problem exists at all. The second is changing the way we talk. As long as we think and speak about how our partners “help us” with the house and chores, with looking after and raising the children, we won’t get very far.

When we talk about our partners “helping” us, we unconsciously put front and center the idea that everything mentioned above is entirely our responsibility and our job.

We don’t need help! We need equality!

It’s not my house, that I should need help with it. The house is ours, and so is the child.

We need a fellow fighter, a fellow traveler, a team player, a partner.

And when we change our perspective and our vocabulary, we also have to change the way we communicate, and that means telling our partner clearly and calmly:

“Hey, I can’t do it anymore, could you… and I’ll…”.

Because no matter how much of a witch we are, we can’t bewitch our life partners into reading our minds and predicting our needs.
Yes, it would be magical if we could, but reality is totally uninspiring.

So your partner doesn’t have to know what’s spinning around in your head and what’s too much for you, but you do need to tell him calmly and without tension, point it out to him, ask him.

Because even when our partners are active participants in family life, like Marko is, it doesn’t go without saying that they know how much you carry on your back, and so they can’t take over part of the burden either.

And you’ll be surprised how they can then do it on their own, without you having to step in.

And if your partners can’t manage to express their needs, dear guys, take the initiative yourselves.

It won’t kill you to ask at least once a day:
“Hey, how are you? What can I do to make you feel better?”

Marko takes Sofia to speech therapy every week, books her dentist appointments, and takes Beni to the vet when needed.

I let go, he took over, I don’t have to remind him, and the world didn’t stop, nor did Armageddon happen.

And I sleep more peacefully and rarely wake up before 6 in the morning.

It’s possible.

Warmly,

S-Mama