The mental load of being a farm mom
I remember standing in the kitchen one evening, completely frozen.
My husband had just asked, "What needs to be done tomorrow?"
And I wanted to throw something.
Not because it was a bad question. But because the fact that I had to answer it. That I was the one holding ALL the information, all the time, about everything. That was the problem.
I wasn't just tired from the physical work. I was tired from being the knower.
The one who tracked when the vet was coming. The one who remembered what needed to be harvested. The one who knew we were almost out of diapers and that the baby had a doctor's appointment Thursday and that the CSA newsletter hadn't gone out yet.
I was carrying a list in my head that never stopped running. Farm stuff, kid stuff, house stuff. An endless scroll of tasks and timelines and "don't forget to..." that played on loop even when I was supposed to be sleeping.
Especially when I was supposed to be sleeping.
People told me to rest. To take a break. Go do something for myself.
But how do you rest when your brain won't stop? I'd lie down for 20 minutes and spend the whole time thinking about what I should be doing. I'd go out for an evening and spend it wondering if my husband had closed up the chickens yet.
Rest wasn't restful. My body stopped but my mind kept managing, tracking, planning.
The hardest part was the resentment I didn't want to admit.
I love my husband. I love my kids. I love this farm.
And also? I was quietly, guiltily furious that I was the one who had to remember everything. That "helping" still meant I had to delegate and manage and follow up. That I couldn't just show up and be told what to do like everyone else got to.
I felt like an air traffic controller who also had to fly one of the planes. While breastfeeding.
What finally helped wasn't a productivity hack. It was naming it.
"I'm not just tired. I'm exhausted from carrying the mental load."
That sentence changed everything. Because suddenly it wasn't about me being bad at coping or not grateful enough or too controlling. It was about the fact that I was holding more than one person should hold.
And some of it needed to be put down.
So we started transferring the knowing, not just the doing.
My husband didn't just "help with" the chickens, he owned the chickens. All the remembering, tracking, and planning included.
It was bumpy at first. He forgot things. I had to bite my tongue instead of jumping in to fix it. But eventually, that whole category was out of my head. Actually gone. Not just delegated-but-still-monitored. Gone.
It was the first time in years my brain felt a little quieter.
I also stopped being the family Google.
"Where's the ___?" "I don't know. Check the drawer."
"When is the ___?" "I don't know. Check the calendar."
It felt rude at first. But it was survival. I couldn't keep being the answer to every question and also do my own work and also be a present mom and also be a human with needs.
Something had to give. So I set down being the keeper of all information.
If you're reading this and your brain is running the through the list right now (even as you read) I see you.
You're not crazy. You're not bad at this. You're overloaded.
The mental load is real work. Invisible, unacknowledged, constant work. And you've been doing it on top of everything else.
You're allowed to put some of it down. You're allowed to say "I don't know" and mean it. You're allowed to hand over the knowing, not just the doing.
It won't happen overnight. But it can happen.
And your brain deserves to be a little quieter.
If this resonated, you might also want to read:
Farming after baby: the guilt, the exhaustion, and what actually helps — The cornerstone post for farm moms
The energy drain of unmade decisions — Another reason your brain is fried
You're putting out fires: when your farm runs you instead of the other way around — When everything feels urgent
You're doing a great job. Even when the list won't stop running.
If you need help sorting through the overwhelm and figuring out what you can actually let go of, I'm here. Schedule a free chat anytime at FarmCoachKatia.com/work-with-me.