The Mental To-Do List That Never Ends

The Invisible Labour: What Exactly Is This Mother Load?

The Mother Load isn't just about doing the things, it's about remembering all the things that need doing. It's the 3 a.m. mental gymnastics of "Did I sign the permission slip? Is there enough milk for breakfast? When was the last time I washed the PE kit? Does the baby have a rash or is it just a biscuit smudge?" As my friend Gemma (mother of three, survivor of many) puts it: "It's like having 74 browser tabs open in your brain at all times, and none of them can be closed."

The mental load of motherhood goes largely unnoticed, rather like the cleaner in Fleabag who nobody ever sees but somehow keeps everything functioning. It's the background processing that ensures life doesn't descend into complete chaos. It's remembering that your child needs a Roman costume by Thursday (because apparently giving more than three days' notice would be too simple), while also tracking everyone's emotional wellbeing, dietary requirements, and the exact location of the only water bottle your toddler will deign to drink from.

Research shows women still shoulder approximately 75% of this mental load in most households. As my friend Harriet texted me at midnight last Tuesday: "Just ordered three different types of glitter for a school project due tomorrow that my husband 'didn't know about' despite it being on the family calendar, in the WhatsApp group, AND mentioned at dinner."

Pre-empting Meltdowns: The Olympic Sport of Parenting

"Being a mum means developing psychic abilities to predict a tantrum before it happens. I can sense a meltdown brewing from the slightly wrong angle of a sandwich cut."

- Sophie, mum of twins

The most elite skill in the Mother Load repertoire is disaster prevention. It's packing the exact right snack that will prevent a public meltdown. It's knowing precisely when to intervene in sibling squabbles before someone loses an eye. It's the Bridget Jones-esque mental calculation of "v. good mummy points" earned by remembering the class bear needs a new adventure documented in its little book versus the "terrible mummy" demerits for forgetting it's your turn to bring fruit for the class.

This anticipatory anxiety is exhausting. We're constantly scanning for potential disasters like some sort of maternal Terminator, except instead of hunting Sarah Connor, we're hunting for missing socks and anticipating which food will be suddenly "disgusting" this week despite being a favourite last Tuesday.

The Motherload Mental Checklist: School forms, birthday presents for parties, doctor appointments, growth spurts requiring new clothes, emotional development concerns, friendship dramas, nutritional balance, screen time monitoring, and remembering which child secretly hates peas but will eat them if they're called "green power balls."

The Snack Stash: A Survival Guide

If motherhood had a coat of arms, it would feature a packet of emergency rice cakes, a slightly squashed banana, and a juice box that's been at the bottom of your handbag since 2019. The Mother Load includes maintaining a strategic snack reserve that would impress military logisticians.

My friend Olivia, who somehow manages to look like she's stepped off a catwalk while raising three children under five, has elevated snack preparation to an art form. "I have snacks categorized by emergency level," she explains. "Level one is a standard hunger situation, perhaps a rice cake or apple slices. Level five is a full-blown crisis requiring chocolate buttons and possibly a small toy I've been hiding in my bag for precisely this apocalyptic scenario."

Because nothing says "glamour" quite like finding a fossilized Cheerio in your Mulberry bag during an important meeting, does it? Yet we persist, knowing that the alternative, a hangry child in public, is far worse than sacrificing our handbags to the snack gods.

The Emergency Snack Hierarchy

• Tier 1: Basic hunger management (fruit, crackers, cereal bars)
• Tier 2: Distraction snacks (anything that takes time to eat)
• Tier 3: Mood improvers (small treats that boost morale)
• Tier 4: Nuclear option (chocolate, sweets, or whatever will instantly halt a meltdown)
• Tier 5: The secret weapon (a never-before-seen snack or small toy saved for absolute emergencies)

The Digital Mother Load: When Technology Adds to the Burden

Remember when we thought technology would make parenting easier? Now we have seventeen different apps to track our children's development, school portals that need checking twice daily, WhatsApp groups for every conceivable parenting configuration, and Instagram making us feel inadequate about our lack of bento box lunch-making skills.

The Mother Load now includes digital management, remembering passwords for the school portal, tracking which photos are appropriate to share online, and dealing with the existential dread of seeing that another mother has already signed up to bring the "healthy option" to the class party, leaving you with the social stigma of bringing crisps.

"I have reminders for my reminders. I once set an alarm to remind me to check if I'd responded to the class WhatsApp about whether Jacob wanted chicken or fish fingers at Alfie's party. This is what my life has become."

- Rebecca, mother and former corporate lawyer

The cognitive load of modern motherhood makes writing a PhD thesis look like a relaxing weekend activity. We're expected to track developmental milestones, educational progress, social dynamics, and emotional wellbeingall while remembering it's bin day and we're out of loo roll.

The Delegation Dilemma: Why "Just Ask for Help" Isn't That Simple

The well-meaning advice to "just delegate" fails to recognize that delegation itself is work. As any mother who's had to create a detailed instruction manual for her partner to handle bedtime knows, sometimes doing the task yourself requires less mental energy than explaining how to do it.

The Mother Load includes the exhausting calculation of: Is it faster to just do this myself or spend 20 minutes explaining where the children's socks are kept (hint: in the sock drawer, love) and which bedtime story is currently acceptable? It's the mental equivalent of those maths problems about trains leaving stations at different times except the trains are on fire and one of them needs a snack.

Why "Mental Load" Matters: The constant background processing of family needs isn't just tiring; research suggests it impacts women's career progression, mental health, and relationship satisfaction. Recognizing it as real work is the first step toward more equitable distribution.

The Triumphs (Yes, They Exist!)

Lest you think the Mother Load is all drudgery and emergency snacks, there are moments of triumph that make it all worthwhile. Like successfully navigating the school run in heels without stepping in a puddle. Or that time you remembered it was "dress as your favourite book character" day before actually arriving at school (unlike poor Melissa's husband, who is still trying to recover from the trauma of being the only parent who forgot).

"I once remembered sunscreen, three different snacks, spare clothes, AND my son's favourite dinosaur for a day out. I felt like I deserved a Nobel Prize."

- Priya, mother of two

There's a particular satisfaction in those moments when the mental load pays off when you've anticipated a need before it becomes a crisis. When your child looks at you like you're an actual magician because you somehow knew they would need their blue t-shirt today, not the red one. When you remember to pack plasters and another parent at the park looks at you like you're Mary Poppins incarnate.

Celebrate Your Mother Load Wins

We're quick to notice our failures but often overlook our daily triumphs. Take a moment to acknowledge those times when your mental load management was absolutely spot-on, whether it was remembering the school bake sale or simply having tissues ready for tears before they even started.

The Mother Load Collective: Finding Your Village

If there's one thing that makes the Mother Load lighter, it's sharing it with others who understand. The knowing glance between mothers when a child starts showing signs of an impending tantrum. The friend who texts "wine later?" after you mention it's parents' evening. The WhatsApp group that responds to your 3 a.m. panic about nits with practical advice and solidarity.

As my friend Zara puts it: "My mother friends are the only people who don't look at me like I'm being dramatic when I say I'm exhausted from thinking about whether my child is developing appropriate emotional regulation skills while also trying to remember if I've defrosted anything for dinner."

In the spirit of Bridget Jones, we're all just trying to balance our "v. good mummy" moments with our "completely losing the plot" moments, preferably while still managing to occasionally wear clothes without snot on them.

Embracing the Load (With a Gin & Tonic in Hand)

The Mother Load isn't going anywhere soon. Society still expects women to be the keepers of domestic knowledge, the trackers of emotional wellbeing, and the preventers of family chaos. But recognising it exists, naming it, discussing it, occasionally laughing about it helps.

So the next time you find yourself mentally calculating whether you have enough pasta for dinner while simultaneously booking a dentist appointment and remembering it's non-uniform day tomorrow, pause. Acknowledge the invisible work you're doing. It matters, even if no one sees it but you.

Share Your Mother Load

What's the most ridiculous thing occupying space in your mental load right now? The most obscure fact you're keeping track of? The triumph no one else noticed? We want to hear about it.