I read an article the other day about the “mental load” of parenthood. There’s been a lot written about Mental Load over the past few years. The author got absolutely slammed by some readers because she was complaining. There were comments about it being “her choice to have children”, and it’s “just life.. so get on with it”. The ‘working vs stay at home parent’ comparison even slipped in there too. It was disappointing to read the comments because firstly…where’s the sisterhood gone? and secondly…I totally related to what was written.

Surely I’m not the Lone Ranger?

The mental load-ees of the world keep track of all the small details of everyone’s everything. We are the buyers of undies, clipper of nails and makers of appointments. We schedule our lives around the sports practice, music lessons, excursions, parties and sleepovers. We juggle every family members schedule in our heads for the next week as we lay awake at night simultaneously questioning if we’ve forgotten something and when we last washed the sheets. We ponder if we are doing a good job with this ‘raising people’ gig and whether or not swearing at them has caused psychological damage.. (ok… maybe that’s just me?)

This is why Fridays are so freakishly good. Even though the Patron Saint of Agony ‘Saturday morning sport’ is looming, Fridays are a chance to leave the mental load behind. However, there comes a moment on Sunday afternoon where we start to gather up the mental load and pile it back into our brains like stuffing dirty clothes into a washing machine.

It doesn’t always come down to the mum of the house who carries the mental load but here in the Hooch house, since I made a choice to leave paid work, it seems the mental load plus all the god-damned washing has landed back in my lap again. (Sorry for the laundry references… I have issues 🤦‍♀️).

As much as Mr Hooch is pretty cool, (and even packs lunchboxes) he would be the first to admit that I’ve done the heavy lifting in the ‘mental load of the family’ department. Sometimes he likes to pop in his two cents worth. It’s not always appreciated. Like the time I was busily wrapping a gift and getting Junior Hooch ready to go his friend’s birthday party, he breezed in and asked “have you bought a card?”

Ahem…. Are you fucking kidding me? This, coming from someone who has never got any of the children ready for a birthday party, let alone BUY A CARD.
This is the equivalent of me strolling down the farm yard and questioning him if he’d checked the sheep this morning? Fuck Off….And make it quick. You’re adding to my load.

So to those of you who, like me, sometimes feel overwhelmed by the weight of our loads, I hope you have the chance to take a breath and celebrate your magical gloriousness.

And if you need to have a little whinge now and again, feel free to give me a call, because the world simply wouldn’t turn without us.

M