The Gilded Margin

By Shyanne Gines

Back-to-school week has a way of making you realize just how much there is to remember.

The schedules. The school forms. The lunches. The appointments. The work schedule. The grocery list. The animals. The birthdays. The house. The things the kids need. The things you need. The things everyone else assumes you already know.

And somehow, you are supposed to keep track of all of it.

I think that’s the part people don’t always see.

They see the things that get done.

They don’t always see the person remembering to make them happen.

Someone remembers when picture day is.

Someone knows which child needs a folder and which one needs a new water bottle.

Someone knows when the dentist appointment is, what time pickup is, which animal needs to be fed, what needs to be bought at the grocery store and whether there is enough food in the house to make dinner tonight.

Someone is thinking about next week while trying to get through today.

That is the invisible load.

And sometimes it feels like your brain has 47 tabs open at the same time.

You’re at work, but you’re thinking about whether the school form was turned in.

You’re making dinner, but you’re remembering an appointment.

You’re sitting down for five minutes, but suddenly you remember that someone’s birthday is coming up.

You finally get everyone in bed and realize you still need to do something for tomorrow.

The frustrating part is that when you do all of those things, nobody necessarily notices.

The form gets turned in.

The appointment gets made.

The birthday happens.

Dinner gets made.

The kids get where they need to go.

The animals get fed.

The house keeps moving.

Everything looks normal.

And because everything looks normal, it can be easy for everyone else to assume that everything is easy.

It isn’t.

There is a difference between doing a task and carrying the responsibility for remembering that the task exists in the first place.

That distinction has been on my mind a lot lately.

Because mental load isn’t always about how many chores someone does.

Sometimes it’s about being the person who knows what needs to happen next.

It’s being the family calendar.

The reminder app.

The keeper of school information.

The person who knows everyone’s shoe size.

The person who knows when the next appointment is.

The person who remembers which kid likes what in their lunch.

The person who notices that we’re almost out of dog food before we’re actually out of dog food.

And then there is the really exhausting part: anticipating things before they become problems.

That’s work, too.

Back-to-school season makes this especially obvious because suddenly the entire household schedule changes at once.

Summer’s loose routine disappears.

School starts.

Activities start.

Homework starts.

Earlier mornings return.

There are new teachers, new schedules, new expectations and approximately one million pieces of paper.

And somebody has to keep track of it.

I don’t think the answer is keeping score.

I don’t think every family needs to divide every single responsibility perfectly down the middle.

Life doesn’t work that way.

Some seasons are uneven. Sometimes one person has more going on. Sometimes the other person carries more. That’s normal.

What matters is whether the responsibility is actually shared.

Because “Just tell me what you need me to do” sounds helpful, but sometimes it isn’t.

If I’m responsible for figuring out what needs to be done, remembering it, making the list, assigning it and then reminding someone to do it, I haven’t really handed off the mental load.

I’ve just become the manager of it.

Sometimes what we need is someone to say:

“I’ve got school lunches.”

And then actually have school lunches.

Not wait to be reminded.

Not ask what needs to go in them every morning.

Not wait for the grocery list.

Just own that piece of the household.

That is what shared responsibility looks like.

And maybe that’s something worth talking about this week.

Not because moms are superheroes.

Not because dads don’t help.

Not because one person always does everything.

But because every family has invisible work.

And the person carrying the most of it may not even realize how tired they are until they finally get a chance to put it down.

So if you’re the person who has been remembering everything lately, I hope somebody notices.

And if you’re part of the household but aren’t sure what invisible work is happening around you, look around.

What would stop happening if one particular person stopped remembering it?

That’s probably where the answer is.

Because the invisible load is still a load.

And sometimes the most loving thing we can do is help carry something before the person carrying it has to ask.

-The Gilded Margin