Invisible work never ends, but someone has to do it.
By the stove
I hate cooking. It never interested me, and I used to roll my eyes when my friends talked about how relaxing or creative they found it. Before I had a child, I could count on one hand how many times I cooked. That changed because with a kid, I can’t just toss a frozen pizza in the oven or boil pasta with a ready-made sauce. So, since becoming a mom, I’ve had to spend most of my time in the kitchen by some pot. Do I hate it? Yes, but if I don’t, my child will never eat vegetables, so I do what I must.
The extras
Unlike the previous speaker, I actually enjoy cooking. What wears me down is everything extra that comes with it. Planning what the family will eat, the mental work of mapping out a weekly menu and shopping accordingly. Sometimes adjusting when something’s not available. Carrying it all home, cleaning, and putting it away. Then there’s the pile of dishes after cooking and eating, which also falls on me. My husband doesn’t get why I’m not over the moon when he occasionally makes dinner. That’s because whipping up dinner is easy for me too; it’s all the other tasks that really wear me out.
The piles
On Saturdays, I usually tidy up the "piles" that have built up during the week. What kind of piles? For example, my daughter leaves hair clips, hair ties, headbands, and makeup scattered around the house, and I’m the one who picks them up. My son leaves half-drunk cups and mugs everywhere, and if I didn’t wash them, they’d collect dust forever. My husband leaves his tools in odd places—kitchen counter, coffee table, even the bathtub edge. And I haven’t even mentioned the piles of laundry everywhere waiting for me to put them away. This constant tidying drives me crazy, which is why I’m the one everyone looks to when something’s missing—and why I get the blame if it’s not found.
The endless cycle
With three kids, I don’t need to explain how much dirty laundry we generate daily—the washing machine is always running. Life got a bit easier when we bought a dryer—which also runs constantly—but ironing, folding, and putting away sometimes makes me want to cry when I face a huge pile of clean clothes.
Restful vacation?
My husband just has to get behind the wheel, but for me, days of hard work come first when we head to Lake Balaton with the kids. I pack clothes for everyone, yes, even my husband. I pack toys, medicine, mosquito repellent, band-aids, board games, and cards. (I usually forget my own things because I have no time for myself.) Then at the vacation home, I cook, wash dishes, and clean just like at home. When we return, I unpack and tidy up, start the mountain of laundry, and my partner doesn’t understand why I can’t fully relax on vacation.
The bathroom
When I was single and only had to clean up after myself, it didn’t feel like a huge burden. But with two kids and a husband, it’s a whole different story. Especially maintaining bathroom hygiene—which I’m most particular about—because cleaning the sink, tub, and toilet alone after so many people is definitely not my favorite pastime.
