It’s a struggle every woman understands down to her very core. The constant mental arithmetic, the endless checks and to-do lists. Mentally taking stock of fridge and pantry and deciding what to eat, not only to suit everyone’s taste, but also the month’s grocery budget. Keeping tabs on what is running low, what needs to be replenished this week and what can wait until the end of the month. Food, cleaning products, clothing, pet supplies, supplements, hygiene products. Who has what on their schedule on any given day. Who needs to be where, which day, at what time. What will they need? Are the sports clothes clean? Do the kids have snacks for their lunchboxes? Have the water bottles been sterilised recently? Who has a birthday party, when, what time, do we need a gift? If you know, you know. But what happens if you suddenly fall sick, or have to go away, or crumple into a heap because it’s all just too much for one person? Maybe the answer isn’t another app or regulation method. Maybe, instead, we can teach our kids about capacity, what the mental load is and how they can share it instead of just adding more items to the grocery list. Let’s Talk Capacity Capacity refers to your bandwidth for all the things that need to get done at any particular time. This covers work, home, family, social life, the whole caboodle. In her book, Capacity and Capabilities Handbook, Melissa van Hal refers to the fluid nature of capacity. There are many factors impacting your capacity on any given day, from physical health to emotional regulation and your sensory environment (van Hal, 2025). The crux of the difference between capacity and capability is this: While you may be capable of taking care of a sick child at home while making sure the others get to school on time, host a webinar at noon and then a dinner that evening, your capacity to do it all will be very different when you are feeling on top of the world compared to when you are sick yourself, or grieving, or haven’t slept, or have a raging migraine. But as we know all too well, the world does not stop. The mental load, most often borne by one person, continues unabated, whether we have the capacity to deal with it all or not. But who benefits from us suffering in silence? Making the mental lists and working ourselves into a frenzy trying to track all the consumables, the schedules, the dietary requirements, the appointments, the homework, and the emotional well-being of our families? Do our kids benefit from growing up thinking these things happen by magic? That executive function is something that suddenly is bestowed upon you when you become an adult? Because what happens when they move out and have absolutely no clue how to buy electricity, or change appointments, or draw up a grocery budget for the month? We know kids pick up on their parents’ mental states. They know – consciously or subconsciously – when their moms are stretched to the limit, juggling a hundred different small tasks and never quite getting to everything. Half-listening to a story about what Andy did in class today and having a niggling feeling that something is bugging her youngest, while never quite finding the time or the mental bandwidth to think it through clearly. We cannot expect our kids to know how to help in a meaningful way, or how to respond with empathy, thoughtfulness and emotional maturity, unless we have taught them to do so. But the important takeaway here is that we can teach them. Teaching Kids to Share the Mental Load I came across a brilliant post on Instagram this week. Mom and parenting educator, Katy Goodwin, detailed how she coached her nine-year-old son on very specific ways to handle some of the mental load she had been carrying alone. Not the visible chores he is instructed to do. The invisible stuff that ‘just gets done’. She describes teaching him to go through the pantry systematically, check the levels of all consumables, and make a shopping list. Sure, at first it took him four times longer than it would have taken her, but it taught him invaluable lessons. He now knows that it takes a person to pay attention to these things. And that quite often, the visible chore is the smallest part of the task. It taught him, first of all, to notice when the sugar is running low. To then think about other things that might be running low too, and compile a list of what needs to be bought. To check the pantry, the fridge, freezer, toiletries cabinet and add all the items that are in regular use to a grocery list. She taught him to track his own schedule. When soccer practice is, when he’s writing a test, when there is a birthday to attend, or a tutoring session, or a playdate. To check beforehand that his soccer kit is clean (instead of the morning of, frantic, “Mooom! Did you wash my soccer stuff?”). To load the dirty stuff into the machine, ask for help getting it started, and make sure it is dry and ready when he needs it. Learning the Bigger Lesson Learning the mechanics of all these life-skill tasks is secondary to the lesson that none of this stuff happens without someone noticing, remembering, and taking the time to do it. He is learning consideration, planning, keeping track of physical items and schedules, communication, responsibility. Instead of just filing a request (or demand) for something to be magically done, arranged, or procured, he is learning the executive functioning skills he will need as an adult, partner, employer or employee. He will know what it takes to run a household, instead of being the kind of man who has to be asked to take out the trash on Sunday night. Twice. When we teach our kids to notice
