Why Moms Are Always Exhausted: The Mental Load of Raising Teens

Ever wonder why moms always seem exhausted, even when their kids are older? In this solo episode, Elissa dives deep into the invisible weight moms carry, known as the mental load. From packing for summer camp with military precision to managing every social twist, school assignment, and forgotten hair appointment—this episode explores what it means to be the default parent, emotional first-responder, and household CEO all at once.

Elissa shares honest stories about her own experience parenting teens, the never-ending to-do list running in her brain, and why letting go of perfection might just be the real key to sanity. If you've ever felt unseen, overextended, or like your family runs on your brainpower, this one’s for you.

Emotional labor
Mental exhaustion
Teen drama management
Default parenting

There’s no such thing as a perfect parent. Just a whole lot of us doing our best. Hit play, take a breath, and feel a little less alone by sharing with a friend.

Chapters

• 0:00 Introduction
• 1:00 What Is The Mental Load?
• 4:00 The Mental Load in the Teen Years
• 8:09 The Default Parent Problem
• 10:43 What Helps (At Least a Little)
• 12:42 Conclusion: You're Not Alone

Transcript

Speaker: 0:03

Welcome back to, I Get It from My mom, the podcast where we talk about the things parents and children should be talking about, but sometimes avoid. I'm Elissa, your host and the mom in the title, and today I'm flying solo. No, Ava, no Maggie, just me and a topic that's been on my mind for, well, probably forever. The mental load. If you've ever walked into a room and forgotten why. Are woken up at 3:00 AM wondering if you remembered to sign a permission slip? Refill a prescription RSVP to a birthday party, and also remind your child they have a dentist appointment after school. This one's for you. Let's get into it. The mental load isn't just a buzzword. It's that invisible weight. We carry the running to-do list in our heads that never, ever turns off. And it's not just the tasks, it's the thinking about the tasks, anticipating them, planning for them, remembering who likes their sandwiches, cutting triangles, who prefers blueberries or strawberries, who refuses to eat pasta that touches other food. And what makes it trickier is that from the outside it's invisible. If I make sure the birthday gift is ordered, the camp form is submitted and the house has groceries. It looks effortless, but it's not. It's project management, logistics, memory retention, and emotional labor rolled into one. Taking the girls ready for summer camp as Exhibit A. I did all the shopping for clothes, toiletries, shoes, containers, equipment. I did some with them. I did some without them. I did most in stores. I did a lot online. I made sure every payment was made, every form was filled out, every appointment was handled in advance. I coordinated who they'd bunk with, made sure they had stationary stamps and pre-labeled envelopes so they could write home. Whether or not they actually did is another story. I organized their clothes, labeled every last sock and shampoo bottle, sorted everything into vacuum sealed bags with step-by-step counselor unpacking instructions. I cooked their favorite meals in the final days at home, gave extra hugs, gave them reassurances and reminders about sunscreen and bug spray. That was the mental load. Nevermind the physical one. My husband David, he had two jobs. One. Make sure they had batteries and chargers and cords for flashlights, Clipon fans and whatever else plugged in. And two, to pack the trunks with everything I had sealed up because he's better at Tetris than I am. Teamwork. Not exactly, but this is the burden we moms carry. Because if we don't do these things, and if we don't think of these things, who will? And this is a onetime thing. It's the same pattern for everything. Whether it's prepping for birthday parties or their bat mitzvahs, applying to colleges, getting them ready to move into dorms, getting them ready. Each school year, months of mental labor compressed into seamless execution, all while working grocery shopping, refilling prescriptions, doing the target runs, and somehow still remembering which kid has gym on which day. Now I expected the mental load to be heavy when the kids were babies and toddlers, but I didn't expect it to stick around in this new form once they were teenagers. Teenagers are technically more independent. They can brush their own teeth. They pack their own school bags. Mine even cook their own dinner. Sometimes they navigate public transportation or drive themselves places. But that doesn't mean as a mom I'm off duty. In fact, the job has just shifted. I'm no longer just a scheduler or the snack provider. I'm now the emotional processor, crisis responder, life coach, and still somehow the default house manager. Let's start with this. The girls talk to me. I'm the parent they come to for everything, and yes, I'm grateful for that. I cherish that. I want them to open up to me, but it also means I carry their emotional load too. All things school. Mine. I know their schedules. I know their teacher's names. I know their grading styles. I know the classes they hate. I know the ones they're crushing. I know when their assignments are due. I know when a quiz went badly, when a friend got a better grade and it stung when they're stressed about a group project. I know it all, all things friends. Also mine, I hear the full debriefs. Who said what? Who's being annoying? Who's dating whom? Who ghosted, whom what so and so posted. That was probably about them, even if it wasn't tagged. I'm the sounding board for every social twist and turn. And again, while I wouldn't trade that access for anything, it's a lot of emotional input to carry. It's like being the director of a teen soap opera where no one gets paid and the scripts change hourly. And then there's the house. Can't find the shirt. They swore was in the laundry. Annoyed. We're out of the right coffee creamer, realizing all their brass are somehow too small and need replacing right now. That's me. Even though these are fully capable humans with phones and Google and credit cards, the default thinking is still, mom will know. Mom will do it, and the irony is they get mad when I need a second reminder. Mom, you still didn't book me my manicure. Did you text Sophia's mom about the thing? Did you order that specific brand of shampoo? I said I wanted once in passing at 9:47 PM while I was half asleep on the couch. And the answer's no. I forgot because I was remembering 87. Other things, things I didn't even wanna be remembering, but were stuck in my head. Like spam popups, submit college deposit. Find out when report cards are posted. Dinner check if the is due for a T appointment. Remember. To breathe. Here's the truth, no one told me. The physical load of parenting does lighten as the kids grow. I'm no longer packing diaper bags or chasing after goldfish crackers in the car. But the mental and emotional load, it doesn't lessen. It grows. But now you're not just responsible for keeping them safe. You're holding space for their entire inner world. And as moms, we feel everything. They feel their hurt becomes our heartache, their stress sits on our shoulders, their pain, their comfort, their joy, their confusion. We absorb it all, even as we're trying to hold steady for them. So yes, teens are more independent, but being the mom of a teen is like being the project manager of a really moody startup, except no one pays you and the company runs on ice, coffee, emotional outbursts, and clean clothes running out at the worst times. Let's talk about being the default parent. Even in homes where both parents are loving and involved, there's often one person who's keeping the entire operation afloat. And that's usually mom. I've been the one who knows where the backup sneakers are, when the next dentist appointment is when snacks we're out of, and which child is allergic to which brand of face wash. I don't even want this much information in my brain. I. Here we are. And being the default parent isn't just about tasks. It's about all the questions. Where's my hoodie? Did you sign me up for SATs? Can I go to Charlotte's House Friday? And my personal favorite, what's for dinner? Now let me be clear. David is a great husband, dad, and partner. Truly, we've talked about this openly with you as our audience. He's a hundred percent engaged in our family life. He wears many hats and wears them well. He's the planner, he's the gift giver. He's the electronics expert. He's the barbecue. He's the groundskeeper and the car. Tetris master. No one packs a trunk or loads a car better than he does. David does most of the driving. Well, really nearly all of it. He even checks in when we need things like new tech and chargers and batteries. Those things magically appear, and I am grateful. He sees the effort it takes to keep this family running, and more importantly, he acknowledges it. He often thanks me, especially for the emotional labor for helping the girls through friend drama, school, anxiety, injuries, illnesses, middle of the night breakdowns, and just life. And I think sometimes he feels bad that he is not the default parent he's willing to be. He wants to be. The truth. I don't know if I'd let the responsibility go, even if I could. It's not that I don't trust him, it's just that the emotional blueprint of our family has lived in my brain for so long that it's hard to imagine anyone else navigating it the way I do. I know what toothpaste each girl likes. I know who's been quiet lately and what that probably means. I know who's about to start an argument and I know who is due for their period tomorrow. So yes, David does a lot more than a lot and more than most, and I appreciate every bit of it. But the day-to-day defaulting the mom, where's my, and did you sign me up for and can you text so and so? That's me Now I wish I had a perfect solution for this. I don't. But here's what I've been trying first writing it down, I. I used to not be a to-do list person, but maybe it's old age, or maybe now my brain is just too filled, or maybe I just don't have the mental capacity the same anymore. But I do find making lists to be helpful, not just to dos, but all the swirling. Remember this thoughts, get out of your head, get it onto paper, or in your notes app or in your voice memos. Second, delegate more. Even if it's messy, your teenager may not wrap a gift as neatly or remember to RSVP, but it's better than carrying the load solo. I yell things out to David that need to be ordered on Amazon. I have the girls help around the house more and pick things up at the store. When they're out, I ask for help. Three, I say the mental load out loud. Sometimes I'll just narrate everything I'm thinking, okay, I am texting your dad to buy eggs and I'm calling the dentist and setting a timer so I don't forget to pick up your prescription. Gosh, I mention dentists a lot in this. We really all go at most twice a year when I remember, and we're lucky. Just a good example. Also. Lastly, letting go of being perfect because it's not going to be perfect. Your kid will survive if you're out of their preferred flavor of yogurt. They'll wear a different pair of jeans if the one they want that is still in the hamper. We can order in, we can eat leftovers, we can forge through the pantry and call it a DIY dinner night when I don't feel like cooking. There is no such thing as a perfect parent. Just like there's no such thing as a chill parent. We're all doing our best. We're all winging it just a little, and that's okay. So if you're listening and nodding, just know you're not alone. The mental load is real. And just because no one else sees it doesn't mean it's not there. And if no one has thanked you lately for holding all the pieces together, I see you. I get it. And I also want my daughters to get it. That is not weakness, to feel overwhelmed that mental labor is real work. That the weight doesn't mean we're failing, it means we're trying. So go easy on yourself. Maybe share this episode with your partner or your mom or your daughter. Until next time, I'm Elissa. And even though Ava and Maggie aren't here today, I assure you they're in my mental checklist right now. My very long mental checklist. Thanks for spending a little time with me today on, I get it from my mom.