If I ever step out of my house or lose my memory, those living with me may be in serious trouble. I might be overestimating my significance, but my role feels as crucial as the classified files that help crack major criminal cases or reveal shocking scandals. Sure, the stakes in my household aren’t quite as high. But when my frustrated 8-year-old can’t locate her “lost” Shopkins and blames her sister, I’m the one who can direct her to the exact spot: under the pile of stickers, behind the bowl of slime, next to the tissue box on the kitchen counter. It’s a big deal when you’re the one who can solve these little mysteries. And speaking of stickers, they trigger a whole cascade of reminders.
Oh no, I have a library book due, and the library cards need renewal. I should stop by the store since we’re running low on bread and milk. I should probably also check if we need apples. Ugh, I’m just so tired of keeping track of everything.
What really wears me out is feeling like I’m the only one who remembers all these details. I constantly remind others what they need to do while also keeping track of where they left their things. My tasks often feel like they’re on autopilot, but mentally, I’m juggling calendars, social gatherings, grocery lists, and the endless requests my three kids toss my way. Sometimes, they don’t even address me directly; they just throw their wishes into the air, knowing I’ll pick up on them like an earworm that demands my attention.
These requests range from wanting juice boxes in their lunches to claiming the first pick of new toothbrushes or goggles. Each kid believes they never get to choose first, and I can usually recall who picked what last time. But this knowledge often leads to tears, leaving me feeling slighted instead. Listening to my 6-year-old twins argue over something as trivial as a toothbrush is draining. It’s not just about that one item; it adds to the mental load of planning haircuts, birthday gifts, and ensuring uniforms are clean for game days. I also need to remember that one child has stopped eating a once-favorite snack, which means I have to think creatively about their lunches.
I’m the one who remembers gym class schedules, but if one child opts to wear cowboy boots, I have to remind her to pack her sneakers. And then I need to double-check that she actually packed them, or I’ll end up making another trip to school with forgotten footwear. I know I should let them face natural consequences, but forgetting shoes means extra work for me. I’ve allowed them to forget their homework or library books, but essentials like money for field trips require careful planning and organization. Since my kids are still young, I take on the responsibility of ensuring everything is in place so our lives don’t turn into chaos.
Part of this mental effort comes naturally; I’m an over-thinker and planner by nature. My personality drives me to focus on details and anticipate needs. I’m always a few steps ahead, which means I often know what needs to be done and when. This also extends to knowing where everything is in our home. There’s always something I’m expected to find because “Mom will know.” I should probably stop being the family’s finder, but I can’t resist. I take pride in knowing where everything is, including the elusive Shopkins.
At the end of the day, I do appreciate being needed. However, I wish the others living in my house would shoulder some of the emotional burden of remembering. It’s not solely my job to know where their things are, yet I likely do know and can predict when they’ll need them too. If you’re interested in more insights on self-insemination, check out this resource. For those considering home insemination options, Make a Mom has excellent information. And for understanding the pregnancy journey, March of Dimes is a fantastic resource.
In summary, while I carry the burden of remembering all the little things in our household, I hope for a day when the people around me share that responsibility.