Like many women, I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting on the emotional labor and mental burden of motherhood, and the impact it has on me as I manage the intricacies of our family life. Growing up in the ’80s with a stay-at-home dad was quite unusual. My father was a bit of a rebel, marrying my mother at 44 and becoming a hands-on parent after an injury led to his retirement as a Boston firefighter. By the time I was born, his primary role was to care for me and my younger sister.
He handled the emotional demands of parenting effortlessly. Daily, he shuttled us to school, listening patiently to our stories and concerns. He was responsible for all our doctor visits, packed our lunches, prepared dinners, double-checked homework, and was our main source of entertainment throughout summer breaks. On sick days, he made us toast and tea while we watched our favorite shows. He even took charge of enrolling us in Girl Scouts, karate, and cooking classes, remembered birthdays, and managed our endless snacking needs. All of this was done without the conveniences of cell phones or the internet. Reflecting on it now, I realize how exhausting that must have been for him, and I once asked him how he managed it all.
He replied, “There was nothing I would have rather been doing. Those moments with you girls were a gift. My happiest memories. But yes, exhausting…”
As I embarked on my own journey as a mother, I found myself slipping into the “primary parent” role. I stayed home with my son, Ethan, for a couple of years after returning from Ethiopia and then pursued a career that allowed him to attend school alongside me. For three years, we were in the same building, and I was never really “off the clock,” always providing snacks, hugs, and support when needed.
I took charge of appointments, teacher meetings, play dates, and activity sign-ups. I scoured options for daycares and schools, hoping to find the perfect fit for Ethan. I spent countless hours discussing ADHD medications with his doctor and strategizing with his teachers. The weight of all this responsibility led to immense anxiety and self-doubt. I started to feel like the sole keeper of everything, and when things went awry, I often blamed myself.
For years, I told my partner, Alex, “You should know what I need you to do!” This was usually in response to his offers of help when I felt overwhelmed. Growing up, I had seen my father handle everything with ease, so I assumed all men understood the complex layers of parenting. However, I had taken on this role so firmly that I believed only I could do it right, unintentionally shutting Alex out from the process. I doubted his ability to handle even the smallest tasks, questioning every choice he made, from snacks before dinner to the appropriateness of pajamas.
Eventually, I came to a liberating realization: I needed to treat Alex as a true partner in parenting. He was eager to help but just didn’t know how to step in. I told him, “I need more support. I can’t manage all the appointments, sick days, and household chores alone. It feels like too much.”
He responded, “Of course.”
I recognized that he might not share my concerns about Ethan’s outfit choices or his hydration levels with the same intensity. However, he could create educational plans with his teacher, navigate team dynamics, give friendship advice, and remember favorite cereals. In my quest to get things done my way, I often excluded Alex. It’s important to acknowledge that while I may always be the “primary parent,” sharing the emotional load is crucial for both of us.
As we continue this journey together, I try to appreciate the unique strengths we each bring to parenting. I remind myself of these strengths, even when he returns from an appointment without the details we discussed.
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In conclusion, collaborating and communicating with your partner can help lighten the mental load of parenting, creating a more balanced and fulfilling experience for everyone involved.
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