You know what nobody really prepares you for when you become a mom?
The mental checklist.
Not the cute little grocery list you scribble on the back of an envelope. I’m talking about the never-ending, constantly updating, slightly terrifying list that apparently lives rent-free in my brain. Somehow, I have become the keeper of all the information.
Tiny Humans:
Did they take a bath?
Did they brush their teeth?
Did they brush their hair, or did they just run a brush over it for three seconds and call it good?
How much screen time have they had today?
Did Tiny Human #1 need her spacer turned?
Is it Cub Scouts tonight?
Where are their uniforms?
Did they eat a vegetable at all this week?
Do they have their backpacks ready for school tomorrow?
Did I check their folders?
And perhaps the most important question of all…Do they each have two shoes that match? Because apparently keeping track of footwear is now a full-time position.
Then there’s the dog.
Beasty:
Is it walk o’clock?
Did she eat breakfast?
Did she eat dinner?
Did she get her run before bed?
Have we kept up with her training?
Is her flea and tick treatment done?
Does she need a bath?
Did she get her medication?
At this point, I’m pretty sure the dog has a better-maintained schedule than I do.
Then comes the house.
House:
What’s for dinner this week?
Did I schedule that appointment?
Is there laundry? How is there still laundry?
Are the dishes done?
When was the last time I vacuumed?
Does the bathroom need cleaning?
Do we have groceries?
Did I pay that bill?
And just when I think I might have caught up…Nope. There’s another load of laundry. Because laundry is apparently a magical creature that reproduces when nobody is looking.
Then we get to “me”. You know… the person running the entire operation.
Have I kept up with my friends?
Did I ever respond to that text message?
When was the last time I checked my email?
Have I exercised?
Am I eating healthy…or eating at all? Because, honestly, who has time for that?
Have I had any actual personal time? Don’t forget to laugh at that last one.
Personal time.
What’s that?
The list goes on and on. Sometimes I find myself thinking…What would happen if I just disappeared for a week?
Not in a dramatic way. Just packed a bag, went somewhere quiet, turned off my phone, and let nature take its course.
Every time I picture it, all I can see nature doing is burning my house to the ground, sirens blaring, crying, chaos. You know your typical end of the world scenario.
Exactly. Welcome to my world. Because somewhere along the way, I got a new hat.
The Family Secretary.
Apparently, I am now in charge of making sure everyone in this house is planned, scheduled, prepared, and roughly where they are supposed to be.
Appointments? Me.
School schedules? Me.
Scout activities? Me.
Kids’ activities? Me.
Remembering that someone needs something three days from now? Also me.
My husband has jokingly said, “…I don’t know. Check with my secretary.”
And honestly? It was hilarious in the beginning. But eventually, the joke started to hit a little too close to home, because the reality is that being responsible for keeping track of everyone’s schedule is exhausting.
It’s not just doing all the things. It’s remembering that all the things need to be done.It’s thinking ahead. ALL. THE. TIME.
It’s knowing who needs to be where, what they need to bring, when they need to be there, what needs to happen beforehand, and what is coming next. It’s the constant background noise in your brain. And that is where the burnout starts to creep in.
So when Mom eventually reaches her limit and has a meltdown because she simply cannot remember one more thing, the complete confusion on everyone’s faces is astonishing.
Mental exhaustion is a completely different kind of exhaustion. It’s the kind you can’t simply sleep off. If you’re anything like me, your brain never stops working.
I’ve literally joked with my boss about whether working in my sleep counts as overtime. Because…yes. I have absolutely dreamt about solutions to problems going on at work. Apparently, even my subconscious has a job.
The minute I wake up, the mental checklist starts.
Okay… What do I need to do to get myself ready enough to help the Tiny Humans and the husband get ready?
Who needs to be where?
What needs to happen today?
What did I forget yesterday?
What needs to happen tomorrow?
And sure, I can turn off my phone. I can ignore the notifications. I can refuse to answer the 15th question of the day that starts with, “Mom…”
But does my brain turn off? Absolutely not. I’m still mentally planning approximately 50 projects at the same time.
I could be sitting on the couch watching TV and somehow my brain is simultaneously planning dinner, thinking about Cub Scouts, remembering an email I forgot to answer, wondering if we have enough laundry detergent, mentally rearranging a room, thinking about work, and trying to remember whether one of the kids needs something for school tomorrow.
And then comes the kicker.
Someone looks at me and says…
“You’re doing too much.”
Or…
“You have too much on your plate.”
Or my personal favorite…
“You need to relax.”
Okay. So not only am I mentally exhausted…Now I’m irritated. Not just a little annoyed, either. No full blown steam coming out of my ears or maybe my head just explodes entirely.
Do you really think I don’t realize I’m doing too much?
YES! I know…I know I’m doing too much. I know I’m tired. I know I need time for myself. I know I need to slow down.
But telling me I’m doing too much doesn’t magically make the things on my list disappear. Because here’s the question that immediately pops into my head:
Who’s going to do the millions of things I do on a regular basis? Do you really think I can just stop doing them? Can I simply hand off every appointment, schedule, school reminder, Scout activity, household task, work responsibility, and tiny-human-related crisis?
Unfortunately, no. And that’s the part people don’t always see. It’s not necessarily that I want to do everything. It’s that I know everything needs to be done. There is a difference.
And Before Anyone Thinks I’m Blaming My Husband… I’m not. Actually, quite the opposite.
He has his own mental checklist. And a pretty big part of his checklist is making sure I’m okay.
He’s the one who makes sure I eat. He’s the one who can see a meltdown coming before I’ve even realized I’m heading toward one. He’s the one who knows when I need a few minutes to myself to breathe, regroup, and somehow get my brain back into functioning mode. He’s the one who sees EVERY. LITTLE. THING. I do it every single day.
He sees the list. He sees the running around. He sees the planning. He sees the worrying.
He sees all the little things that don’t necessarily look like work from the outside but somehow take up an enormous amount of space in my brain.
And he knows when I’ve reached my limit. He knows when I need my time. He knows when I need him to step in. Now, don’t get me wrong…
Sometimes he is absolutely the reason for my meltdowns. Let’s not rewrite history here.
But he’s also usually the one who helps fix them. And I think that’s an important distinction.
Marriage isn’t about one person carrying everything while the other person stands around watching. It’s about noticing when your partner is struggling. It’s about picking up some of the weight when you can.
It’s about knowing when to talk, when to help, and sometimes when to just give the other person five freaking minutes of silence. Because I don’t need someone to tell me to relax.
I need someone to understand why I can’t.
I don’t need someone to tell me I’m doing too much.
I need someone to help me carry some of it.
And thankfully, I have someone who sees that. Even when I don’t always see it myself.
Something Else No One Tells You…It’s okay to let someone take care of you.
Read that again.
Again for those in the back…
It is okay to let someone take on the responsibility of taking care of you.
Whether that person is your husband, boyfriend, roommate, best friend, family member, or whoever your person happens to be.
You cannot do everything. And you cannot do everything completely on your own, no matter how hard you try. Eventually, the mental exhaustion will catch up with you.
I promise.
You can keep pushing. You can keep checking things off the list. You can keep telling yourself, “I’ve got it.” But eventually, you’re going to realize that sometimes the person who takes care of everyone else needs someone to take care of them, too.
And that’s okay. Letting someone help doesn’t mean you’re incapable. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It doesn’t mean you’re failing. Sometimes it means you trust someone enough to say,
“I don’t have to carry this part right now. You can have it.”
And when you have someone who willingly helps carry that mental load, it can make an enormous difference.
If you have that person in your life, don’t forget to tell them.
Tell them you see what they do.
Tell them you appreciate them.
Tell them that their little things aren’t actually little.
Because sometimes the person helping you carry the weight needs to know that you see them carrying it, too.
Maybe that’s the real lesson I’ve been learning through all of this. I don’t have to be the person who remembers everything. I don’t have to handle everything. I don’t have to be the strong one every second of every day. I can let someone take care of me.
And honestly? That’s a pretty good thing to remember when you’re busy trying to take care of everyone else.
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