The Mental Load

Have you ever heard of the mental load? No? Then you are probably a guy. My husband hates this topic. I mean HATES it! If it's brought up there's usually an argument soon after. If you are a woman, chances are, you can take one look at the picture above and immediately know what it is and feel the heavy weight of it on your shoulders. If you truly have no idea what I'm referring to, the mental load is a term used to label cognitive labor. Cognitive labor is used to manage any non-tangible tasks that need to get done in order for something to run smoothly. Usually, when people reference the mental load it's pertaining to women and managing a household.

There's tons of studies out there about how women have been groomed and trained for decades to carry the mental load for their families. Feminist will get really aggressive about psychological warfare being centered around trapping women into carrying this burden throughout life. I'm not all into that stuff. I like gender roles. There, I said it. However, I do see their point about how men are not held to the same cognitive responsibilities as women.

If you know me well, you've probably heard me say this already. I don't understand how men can run and/or manage huge companies or be in high ranks in the military and not be able to see that the dishes need to be done, or the bathroom trash is starting to overflow. I'm starting to understand they do see these things, it's just not important to them to fix it. I don't know why. Who wants to live surrounded by a mess?

While these things are physical tasks of a physical work load, if someone would pitch in and help out with them, I think the mental load most women carry wouldn't feel so heavy.

Dishes. They are my trigger. Allow me to explain.

My husband works a shift that has him home until the afternoon. I get home soon after he heads in for work. When I get home, I have a little girl who refuses to nap and is in a fussy mood wanting all of my love and attention. Naturally. Shortly after getting home, it's time to cook dinner so that everyone can eat and I can give her a bath before putting her to bed around 7:30pm. It's hard to cook with her! She's all under my feet, wanting me to stop cooking to kiss a booboo or read a book or just whine about whatever is bothering her at the time. It's hard enough as it is and the one thing that makes it worse is coming home to a sink full of dishes. Bump it up a notch if the dishwasher is full of dirty dishes and needs to be ran.

How can I even start to cook if every dish I need is dirty in the dishwasher or sink? I have to wash them by hand to get started and run the rest of the dishwasher while I cook, knowing I'll have to empty it out (and dry them all off, because there won't be time for them to dry in there) before loading it again after dinner is finished. It adds a good amount of time and effort to an already daunting task. When all the dishes are taken care of before I get home, my evening runs amazingly smooth. I come home ready to tackle dinner and play with my baby until bed time. When I walk in and find it sitting there...I turn into momzilla. I'm not proud of it. It's just what happens.

I start to notice all the other things that only I can seem to ever get done. The trash is piled up, laundry needs to be done, Emmie's clean clothes I washed the day before need to be put up, the dog's bowls need to be filled...and I lash out at anyone in my path.

I'm not saying my husband or kids never help out. I'm just saying it's not consistent enough to relieve my physical and mental load. When I mention it to them, I start to feel guilty about complaining. I tell myself I can just suck it up and get it all done, but I can't. I am drowning. I have gone to bed super early the past few weeks. It's very unlike me. I think I feel asleep at 8:45pm the other night. I'm exhausted and I just need a little help. I need someone to see Mom and all she does and want to help out to make me feel better.

After I put Emmie to bed, I run around finishing up all that I can and if I stop for a second I am weighed down by the mental load of all the tasks that need to be done that I don't have the energy to do. I drift off to sleep, but toss and turn with dreams of not waking up on time or forgetting to get something done.

I feel like I pay attention to details for my family. I do the laundry when I notice my husband is running out of gym clothes. I pick up everyone's favorite snacks at the store. I feel like there is no one there to do those things for Mom.

Yesterday was a particularly hard day. I had a lot to do at work and then I came home to a lot to do in the kitchen before cooking dinner for my family and my parents, who I invited to eat with us. I walked in and snapped. I texted a sassy message to my husband and was short with my mom. She quickly whisked Emmie away to her house so I could clean up and start dinner, which made Emmie's day. She was doing it to help me, but also because I wasn't being nice to anyone. I started to feel like a monster.

The more tired I become the more I realize why all of this makes me feel so bad. Don't get me wrong, I'd love the help. But it's not about the help. It's about being invisible. It's about no one seeing all you do and realizing that you might need a hand every once in awhile. Does anyone care about me enough to realize I feel overwhelmed and somewhat neglected? When you feel like the answer is no, it's humbling and sad.

I want my family to love and care about me they way I do them. If they are struggling, I step in to offer a hand or a solution. If I'm actually verbally asking for help, I really need it. And if it's not received, it makes me feel extremely unappreciated and taken for granted. Even worse then not helping is helping with an attitude. Just don't bother.

My day yesterday has carried over to today. I have a little cloud over my head that I need to blow away. It's funny, I just got a Facetime from Emmie. Of course I answer with a smile and cheers of being happy to see her. She kept saying, "Momma happy!" It was kind of weird, so Ben had to explain it. He said she was telling him that Momma was sad at work. A little freaky, right? He wanted to show her I was okay so they called me. She was glad to see I was happy.

See me. I'm right here. Mom needs y'all too.