“Did you see the lights?” my husband asked enthusiastically.
In fact, I had seen the outdoor lights he hung in preparation for the summer. I told him they looked great, to which he replied proudly, “See, I do things around here.” Huh?
I watched him walk off into the well-lit patio and stayed back, slightly confused. Did he mean he accomplished many things around here, or just this one thing? The thought came in fast: Was he comparing this to everyday tasks — like the ones I did, you know… everyday? And what about all the meals?
I am constantly carrying the ‘food load’ for my family
There is plenty of evidence that suggests my family thinks I’m their personal chef. I’m the one doing the shopping, menu planning, prepping, cooking, and scheduling meal times. While I do enjoy many aspects of organizing (clutter-free kitchen countertops are the best), others feel more like chores.
And then, there are the constant questions I have to ask myself: What’s for dinner tomorrow? Do we have groceries? What needs to be eaten before it goes bad? What’s everyone’s schedule tomorrow? All those run through my head like our toddler used to run through our living room.
Looking back, I can trace the evolution. When our son was little, I was the boss of his schedule. My little one and I ate at different times from my husband, and this worked for us.
As time went on, our kiddo started eating at regular mealtimes, but I stayed on as the default meal planner. No way could I have predicted I’d be left alone in this space, because other tasks in our house had been fluid and flexible. My husband and I both fold laundry, empty the dishwasher, vacuum, and more. As the roles in our new family became more defined, Master Chef Meal Planner solidified as my chore.
It’s just one part of what I do for my family, but it makes me feel overwhelmed
Studies show a persistent gender divide in household chores, with women often handling 73% of cognitive chores and spending roughly twice as much time on housework as men. Well, that’s a lot, and clearly reflected in my family. The fact that the mental load of mothers is more often discussed recently, both in popular culture and among mom groups and my friends, is helpful because it validates my experience and names the feelings surrounding it.
Carrying the ‘food load’ for my family is just one part of what I — and many other mothers — do, but it’s one that leaves me feeling overwhelmed, tired, and lonely, even just thinking about it. This labor is specific and nuanced. While a lot of household tasks are repetitive, many are performed only weekly or monthly— and yes, in some cases, only done once in a while, like hanging patio lights. Meals and snacks are often either demanded or in preparation all day, every day. My brain is full of menus and food options for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and everything in between.
I asked my husband for help
All these small daily decisions add up and feel relentless, and that’s when the decision-making fatigue sets in. For me, it shows up as impatience and resentment — that I’m not always great at keeping to myself. I feel disconnected from my husband. And since I don’t enjoy feeling separated from the people I love most, I reach out for help.
“Hey, honey, can you help me plan meals this week?” I asked my partner.
“Of course, what do you want me to buy?”
Yeah, not exactly the mental-space freeing help I was looking for. Making a grocery list for him means I’m still the one making the menu and giving instructions, so while well-intentioned, this is more of an extra step on top of all the others, not a relief. I’ve tried talking about how this task weighs me down, but somehow we still slip back into our well-defined roles. What’s going to help me feel supported?
Not one to give up, I tried a different, more direct approach: “Hey, honey, Friday night is taco night, so can you cook on Fridays?” And that’s how Taco Night began.
My husband has taken over Friday, Tuesday, and Saturday dinners with a consistent menu for each night. His brain likes structure, and this way he knows what he needs and which days he’s our head chef — taking some meal planning off the table for me. We’re working toward a more balanced schedule for all of us — my son included.
It’s also helped my husband see what I do on the days he’s not the one cooking. Making invisible labor visible helps reduce stress and foster teamwork in our family, because the food load definitely isn’t a load to be carried alone.
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