You Don't Have to Do More:
Lightening the Mental Load of Motherhood
A few years ago, I had an interaction with my husband that made me realize just how heavy the mental load of motherhood truly is.
It wasn't really a surprise. I knew I was carrying a lot and felt totally overwhelmed. But this moment shed light on the invisible load we carry as mothers.
My husband had scheduled a vet appointment for our elderly dog, and afterward he called to let me know when it was. I must've been in the middle of something, because those details usually go right into my calendar.
A few days later, I asked him, "When is Gus's appointment again?"
He said, "I don't know. I told you when I made it."
Apparently, it was my responsibility to record the appointment, even though I'd passed off the task. But then again, even when no one asked me to, I was always the one keeping track of appointments.
I asked him, "Did you put the appointment in your calendar?"
"What calendar?"
"The calendar on your phone."
"I don't have the calendar. I deleted the calendar app."
That's when I realized I was literally the calendar. It had gotten to the point where he'd just ask me what was on the agenda. He didn't need a calendar, because I was keeping track of EVERYTHING and nothing was getting dropped. It wasn't that he didn't care. The system we'd built, without ever really deciding to, ran entirely through me.
Changing it took intention. We set up a shared family calendar that we both add to and both check. When he'd tell me about an appointment he made, I stopped putting it in for him and started asking, "Did you put it in the family calendar?" Now he does it automatically, and it works seamlessly. I'm not the calendar anymore. Our household tasks and to-dos live in their own system, not in my head.
That's the mental load: the invisible work of noticing, planning, and remembering everything that keeps a family running. For high-achieving moms, it hides in plain sight, because we're so good at it that no one, including us, notices how much we're carrying.
You could keep doing it all. But it will burn you out. Here are the tools I use with the moms I work with, and the ones I've had to learn for myself.
1. Get the list out of your head
The mental load is hard to share because no one else can see it. The first step is making it visible.
Try this: Set a timer for 10 minutes and write down everything you're tracking for your family- appointments, meals, school forms, birthdays, the snacks your kid will actually eat. Don't organize it yet. Just get it out. What you can see, you can share.
2. Look at what you're both carrying
Around the same time that the calendar debacle occurred, I saw Eve Rodsky, author of Fair Play, speak at the Psychotherapy Networker conference. I was there as a provider, taking notes for my clients. Somewhere in the middle of her talk, I realized I was carrying the mental load right there in my seat. This wasn't just for my clients. I needed it, too.
What stood out most: my husband wasn't failing to be a team player. I was owning so much, without ever asking for support, that he didn't even know half these tasks existed. Take my son's lunch for example: before I pack it, I check the school menu, ask my son if he wants to buy or bring, and shop for the foods he likes. That's one "task," and most of it is invisible.
When we laid it all out together, he saw the mental load I carried inside the house. And I saw what he carried outside it- the car, the oil changes, gas, the garden, the lawn mowing. He was doing more than I gave him credit for. And I needed to stop silently owning so much.
Try this: Sit down with your partner and your brain dump. Add their list, too. Keep the tone curious, not "I'm doing everything and I'm about to explode," but "let's look at everything we're both doing." Then make it a short weekly check-in: what's coming up, and who owns what?
If you want to go deeper, I can't recommend Fair Play by Eve Rodsky enough. It gives couples a clear, practical system for dividing the work of home. Find it the Fair Play book and card deck in my Amazon shop.
3. Hand off the whole task, not just the doing
Asking for help with one piece still leaves you holding the rest. In Fair Play, Eve describes owning a task from start to finish: noticing it, planning it, and doing it.
Try this: Instead of "Can you grab milk?" try "Can you own groceries this week?" That means noticing what we need, making the list, and getting it done. Pick one task to hand off whole this week.
4. Make the calendar shared
One person shouldn't be the family's memory. A shared calendar that everyone actually checks moves the remembering out of your head.
Try this: Set up one shared family calendar, and don't add things for anyone else. When someone tells you about a plan, hand it back with a simple "Did you put it in the family calendar?" It takes intention at first. Then it becomes automatic.
5. Let good enough be enough
I tell clients this all the time: yes, you probably make a better peanut butter and jelly sandwich than your partner. You know to cut off the crust, the perfect jelly-to-peanut-butter ratio, and that the diagonal cut is superior. You balance it with carrots and milk. It's not just that you think you do it better- it's probably true.
But if we tell the people willing to help "you're doing it wrong" and then criticize how they do it, who would want to help? The mediocre PB&J is good enough meal for your child.
Try this: When you hand something off, let them truly own it. You can silently think, "I would have done it differently." Then let it go, and take it off your mental list. Otherwise, you're still carrying it- checking how they did it, checking whether it got done.
6. Let your kids practice
Kids can own more than we think, and the more practice they get, the better they get.
Try this: Pick one age-appropriate task to hand over. In our house, my son gets himself dressed, even if that means mismatched socks and double patterns. He empties his own school folder. And he knows where his favorite snacks are, so he can grab his own. It won't be perfect. It doesn't need to be.
7. Check in with yourself first
Before you reach for the list, reach for yourself.
Try this: Pause. Take a breath. Notice what's happening in your body. Then ask two questions: What do I need right now? What's my next tangible step?
Want to take this practice a step further? Check out the FREE Triangle of Awareness meditation.
What this looks like in real life
Using these tools doesn't make the mental load disappear. It still shows up. The difference is that you notice it, name it, and stop carrying it alone.
In real life, that might look like making the grocery list together, or choosing to do the shopping yourself because a solo trip to the store is your breathing room- not because you're the only one who notices there's no food in the house. It might look like your partner owning homework without reminders, or your kids getting themselves dressed and grabbing their own snacks. And it might look like stepping away without checking in to make sure everything got done, trusting that it's handled, and not being the one fielding "where's the peanut butter?"
That trust gives something back: time and space to fill your own cup.
You don't have to wait for a crisis
It doesn't have to get harder before you ask for help. You don't have to wait for the shutdown, the breakdown, the moment of "I really can't handle this anymore." What if we made things better now?
Start small. Pick one tool from this list and try it this week.
This is the work I do with moms, and it's the work that lights me up. If this resonated, follow along on Instagram at @AlyssaJohnsonWellness. And if you want support creating more balance, living life the way you want to, and coming into who you're becoming in this stage of motherhood, schedule a 15-minute consultation. I'd love to help.
