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Deconstructing Mom Exhaustion

"By and large, mothers and housewives are the only workers who do not have regular time off. They are the great vacationless class." Anna Morrow Lindbergh (writer and wife of famous flying guy)

A woman writes to the doctor on the BBC website. "Nicola" is looking for an opinion on whether she has postnatal depression. She says, "I hope you might be able to give me some idea why I feel so tired all the time. It might just be the children (I have three, aged 2, 4 and 7) but other mothers I know seem to be terribly organised and rush round doing all sorts of things. I'm lucky if we can get out of the house before out lunchtime and I'm finished by about 7 at night. I'm not sure if it is physical tiredness or just a lack of mental energy."

The doctor answers wisely. "Three children are enough to explain total physical or mental exhaustion," is how she begins.

I read this and wonder how Nicola had enough energy to press "send" on her email to the doctor. I wonder if Nicola has enough energy to keep vertical. I'm exhausted and I have only two kids.

Mother's exhaustion is a common topic on the benches of playgrounds and among those waiting outside the doors of pre-schools. We're all trying to do so much yet at the same time walking so close to the total exhaustion precipice. "Exhaustion" is the word that is used, generally conveying a sense of mental and physical tiredness. "Burnout" is the unspoken word that lingers in Exhaustion's shadow.

Recently, ladies-room.net surveyed three Greater Vancouver area mothers about whether they feel exhausted. One works outside-the-home part-time as well as at home, while the others work full time at home. All three have two children. The survey shows a disturbing admission of nearly constant exhaustion.

The respondents indicate they are exhausted "daily" or "almost every day" or "most of the time." They describe the causes of their fatigue as:

• No breaks from children
• "No time to myself"
• Children's tantrums and meltdowns
• Endless housework and errands
• "The relentlessness of shopping for food, making meals, cleaning up after meals, then doing it all again in a few hours"
• "Constant demands on my attention"
• Interrupted sleep at night to nurse or resettle children
• "chronic recurrent frustration"

How did we get here? How do we keep going? Somehow, like the Energizer Bunny, we lift our arms and feet and the movement continues. Somehow we have found ways to cope, ways to self-care and ways to get a second wind.

Commonly discussed causes of mother exhaustion include perfectionism, repetitive activities leading to burnout and a lack of positive feedback. However, under scrutiny, these fail to provide an adequate answer to an issue that seems to be much more related to a job description that just keeps growing. Furthermore, despite the massive challenges women face in the execution of their daily responsibilities, somehow, they manage their exhaustion and find ways to achieve the self-care that allows them to persist.

Blaming the Victims: You're trying to be Superwomen Perfectionists

Like many of the problems that women face, many people voice the idea that mom exhaustion is our own fault, caused by ambition to conform to a Superwoman image projected throughout the media and culture. If moms would just give up this drive to do everything, and do it perfectly, the sentiment implies, they wouldn't be so tired.

I disagree. (I would disagree vehemently if I had the energy.) Most moms I encounter are neither perfectionists nor superwomen. They are not slaving away in a selfish attempt to have an Architectural Digest home with Leave it to Beaver children eating gourmet food. Like me, they are just trying to keep the home clutter to a minimum, work a non-management job part time and raise average kids who can eventually navigate through the school system. Some moms use childcare; some have family support; others don't. If we were all superwomen, we could start eliminating items from our to-do lists. We can't. Those remaining items, like having clean clothes, regular medical checkups, reading a story before bedtime, are pretty much essential. Yet doing them all results in exhaustion. The argument that we should stop trying to be superwomen is off track, unless just being an average mom in this culture in this time requires a superwoman.

Take this example. Recently, my family and I cleaned the house as we often do on one of the weekend mornings. In an evening conversation with my mom, formerly a full-time mom to two children five years apart, I mentioned the cleaning. Her response was, "did you dust?"

Of course, she's asking because she knows I didn't. Dusting just seems a low priority compared to the other cleaning that takes less time and offers a bigger return. I don't remember when I last dusted. Dusting is a detail I can easily ignore. But the message from my mom is that it shouldn't be ignored.

I offer this illustration for two reasons. It demonstrates the pervasive pressure to be perfect that's out there. Also, the story is at least partial proof that I have resisted being Supermom. For anyone looking for additional evidence, I'd be happy to provide statistics on the number of times per year I wash the bathroom floor.

The Stakes are High, All of Them

Women's suspected weakness in priority setting emerges as another blame-the-victim topic. "Don't sweat the small stuff," is a frequently used expression. Which small stuff could this mean? After all, small stuff is only small in hindsight. Packing peanut butter sandwiches for your kid's day care lunch may be a small breach of policy, but if it sends another kid with peanut allergies to hospital, this small issue rapidly expands to a gigantic one. Letting small kids play in the big kids playground is a small judgment call, unless they get hurt. Then it's a big mistake. None of us want to be on TV with Oprah detailing that horrific moment when "I'd just turned my head for a second…" Keeping children safe is a huge responsibility. In a MotherNature.com article, the writer makes numerous comparisons between the stress faced by air traffic controllers and that of moms. As the parent of a very high-energy, high-need child, I understand.

An average parent, including a mom, faces life-affecting issues continually because we shoulder the blame for tragedy. No one wants tragedy, so we focus intently on minimizing risks to the lowest level. This degree of attention is exhausting. We do set priorities well and we manage risks continually. Consequently, like any successful risk management analyst, we see any potential for harm at each turn. We're not nuts or obsessive about every detail. We are merely assessing potential risk. We have seen enough examples on daytime TV of other mothers who've endured tragedy in the form of their children's death, disfigurement, educational failure, excessive sugar, inadequate calcium and so on. We're trying very hard not to go there. In other jobs, this attention to detail is rewarded.

Culturally, mothers are expected to get everything right. Failure means guilt, as noted in When Mothers Work, a 1997 book by Joan K. Peters. Guilt, according to Peters is a part of American (I'd say North American) motherhood which "demands a mother's total self." She continues:

"Hardly a universal feature of maternity, guilt is not so much in the nature of motherhood as in the nature of traditional American motherhood. Mothers, as the primary and often exclusive guardians of their children's welfare, are held responsible for it-at times to the point of persecution." (p. 2) Here, I would also add, to the point of exhaustion.

Burnout comes from doing the same thing over and over and over

Let's officially abandon the idea that we are driving ourselves into the ground because of perfectionist tendencies. In so doing, let's analyze that most common of examples displayed in contempt of the women who do too much: the elaborate, themed toddler birthday party. (To be fair, this contempt has been uttered from my mouth too, even though I am one who enjoys birthday party planning.)

From my side of the Xanex bottle, excessive energy and planning of birthday parties is not about perfectionism or supermomming. It's about diversion.

The Mothercare.com article on burnout discusses the notion that burnout used to belong primarily to men, but is more and more an experience of women. The article notes that burnout is caused not by the number of activities but by the lack of variety among activities.

The daily repetition of meal making, coaxing reluctant eaters to try something, clean-up, dishwasher loading and unloading is just one part of the on-going, repetitive grind of parents, and frequently, mothers. I haven't even mentioned laundry, diapers, potty training or the tedium of playgrounds, which, as a friend once noted, ought by law to have a government-subsidized cappuccino stand.

Into this routine drop the opportunity to host a birthday party that may involve the parents of other children. Can't you just hear the depression lift? A chance to create decorations, games, gifts, snacks? A chance to shop, perhaps even individually and without children? A chance to socialize with other parents without having to use public transit? A chance to experience a change? And a change, as the old expression goes, is as good as a rest.

It's exhausting to never have a performance review

The birthday party example is instructional in another aspect. A well-planned event, such as a birthday, is normally a source of positive feedback. After months of working as a parent in virtual isolation, birthday party hosts receive praise and recognition for their skills and creativity. This is a rare positive performance review parents, especially mothers, receive. Some mothers even post their experiences planning parties to online sites such as www.birthdaypartyideas.com. This may form a rare written self-evaluation like the type common in office workplaces.

Of course, moms receive ample negative criticism of their work. One nasty evaluation of my ability as a parent stung me in a way that left me hurt and incredulous. It came at me from the mouth of an aging, Caucasian bus driver as I was struggling to leverage my double stroller from the grassy bus stop area to the entrance of the bus. My kids and I were returning from a multicultural, community-based, politically-correct Family Place gathering at a local neighborhood house, to which we had arrived on time, after a nutritionally-correct breakfast with adequate servings of fruit and a substantial sleep time of approximately 11 hours, which was appropriate for my children at that age. Attached to my stroller were items from educational toy manufacturers to stimulate the interest of my children during non-interesting moments of the walk or ride home. As I struggled to manoeuver the stroller, probably put together by a misogynist in the factory, I faced difficulty getting it over the bumpy grassy surface and into the bus. As the bus driver opened his mouth, I anticipated some recognition of my plight. However, what I received was not quite what I'd expected.

He said, "You'll have to get more organized."

More organized? I thought, stunned at the suggestion that I, obvious queen of organization, was deficient. I wondered if he organized even his own sock drawer.

And then I got on the bus.

How do we survive?

Hilary Clinton popularized the phrase, "it takes a village" when she wrote her book of the same name. I would love to have the access to help that someone in a small village might have. Unfortunately, many of us, particularly those who've immigrated, live far from extended families. Relatives may not always be able or interested in helping us. Maybe it takes a village, but most of us don't live in villages anymore.

Other writers, such as Peters, echo the need for the current concept of motherhood to be re-envisioned by the partners in the growth and development of children including mothers, fathers and society. Great idea to share the work and revise our roles. I support it. But it's hard to achieve significant differences quickly. In the meantime, I have to make the kids' lunches for day care tomorrow.

The exhausted moms surveyed said they benefited from activities such as walking, cycling, rollerblading and gardening as long as they were not too spent.

Another mom said indulging in a craft or a meal out with another mom, or having a long soak in the tub helped. She also mentioned "a quick pick-me-up is a cup of tea while folding laundry, reading a magazine while watching the kids at the park, or a mini-facial while my husband reads books to the kids before bed."

Fresh-squeezed juice with fresh ginger was helpful in giving another mom a "temporary energizing effect." Two moms mentioned chocolate, which one mom described as "the post-modern mum's valium."

On-line resources also prove helpful in ideas and perspectives on mother exhaustion. I found Jane Shephard's article on how she copes as a single mom to be soothing and clearly in sync with my own fatigue. She has interesting suggestions about aromatherapy and other self-care interventions.

Another helpful source is the MotherNurture.com site, which is encyclopedic in its information on mother exhaustion. Developed in connection with their 2002 book Mother Nuture, a psychologist, acupuncturist/nutritionist and an obstetrician/gynecologist provide a wide range of articles that address moms' needs, dads' needs, relationship and intimacy issues, along with parenting topics. Comprehensive but not overly didactic.

And finally, for an online magazine to stimulate a sleepy mother's intellect, try Brain, Child . This publication takes an important step forward in changing outdated conceptions of motherhood and justifying ineptitude at some aspects of the mothering game. The editors proudly point out on their home page that they "couldn't cupcake-decorate our way out of a paper bag." I think they would also approve of my sloppy house cleaning.

In writing this article, one more little gem popped into my hands from the local community centre library. The 1979 Working Mother's Complete Handbook (Plume) discusses stress and burnout, and offers ways to survive. The writers' "six, simple stress-relievers" addresses exhaustion in a tantalizingly subversive manner that is appealing and fresh despite this book being so dated. These six are:

1. Keep a diary
2. Learn to meditate
3. Play hooky (i.e., take a sick day from work even if you're not really sick)
4. Go home for lunch
5. Spend a weekend in bed
6. Get a check-up (p. 311 - 312)

The third point is the most subversive, but addresses Anne Morrow Lindbergh's quote at the beginning of this article. Mothers still are the vacationless class.

For years, women have been taking back the night in an attempt to make society a safer place. Perhaps our next challenge is to somehow take back our time in an attempt to make our lives less exhausting.