Did you get home tonight and dinner was made but the kitchen looked like an explosion at a pie factory?
Did someone proudly tell you that they’d “done all the washing” and now there are mountains of subtly pink clothes blocking all doorways, silently begging you to fold them?
Is the baby bathed and dressed but apparently wearing a pyjama top, a tutu and a ski-mask for a morning at the shops?
Yes? Well, breathe through it. There’s a lot going on. There always is.
LISTEN: Gemma Hartley explains the concept of emotional labour to Mia Freedman on the No Filter podcast…
It feels like your plate is always full. So full the pad Thai’s leaked over the sides and is all over your skirt and filling up your sandals.
Maybe you tried to get up to exercise this morning – because exercise is good for body and mind, everyone says so – but your shift started early because your work-wife was taking her mum to radiation and you said you’d cover for her. But Tuesdays is also before-school band practice, so you had to arrange for your next-door neighbour to pick up your oldest and drop them off so your partner wouldn’t be late for work.
Their boss gets very cranky if they’re late for work. So does yours, but apparently we can all live with that.
Maybe you also packed lunches this morning for all the people who live in your house because the kids will eat it if you do it because you know exactly the right butter-to-Vegemite ratio they’ll accept on an edible sandwich.
Top Comments
I have found the only way to make sure things get done is to delegate. Yes the mental load is mostly mine, but the physical load is not which changes the stakes considerably. And it is amazing how if you leave things until they do get feral they will eventually annoy other people in the house enough that they do something about it, even a preschooler will get fed up of struggling to get to their bed with all they toys on the floor and pick up their own room.
The problem with your suggestion is, in fact, that nobody will do it, and you are relegated to living in a frat-house, or becoming a "nag". I suggest option 3: gather the entire team together and say "I will not allow you all to turn me into the wicked witch of the west. Nor will I allow you to treat me as your personal slave. Nor will I accept living in a sewage pit. Hence, I am moving out until you all figure out how to pull your own weight. Call me in a month and I'll evaluate your status. I'll be at the Ritz-Carlton."