Why “What Should We Do for Dinner?” Is the Question that Wears Me Down.

The mental load of making decisions for everyone else

The other day my husband called to ask what I wanted to do for dinner. Simple question. I couldn’t answer it.

Photo by Casey Lee on Unsplash

“I don’t care babe,” Steve had said. “You decide and I’ll go pick it up.”

It was the end of a long day that started around 5 a.m. when I walked the dog, then sat down for back-to-back client meetings, a mountain of writing and countless work emails.

I genuinely did not have any bandwidth in my tired brain to figure out what I wanted to eat that evening.

While I appreciated not having to cook on a hot summer night, especially since I’d cooked (and planned) the three nights before, I was irritated that this question about ‘what to have for dinner,’ was falling on me. Again.

“Nope,” I said. “You need to make the call. What do you want to eat? I need you to decide.”

My exhaustion wasn’t really about dinner. It stemmed from the emotional labor, the mental load, that many women carry every day, in addition to completing the actual tasks.

We’re empty nesters now, but for many years, in my first marriage as a mom raising twins, my mind kept a running inventory of nearly every life detail for every breathing creature in our household—the kids, my then-husband, and the dog.

· Homework assignments

· Sports and other activities

· Lunch and dinner

· Doctors and dentist appointments

· My husband’s travel schedule

· Birthdays and holidays

· Gifts for those celebrations

It was an endless checklist of things that needed to be done, balls that couldn’t be dropped; all while keeping my own life on track, including my career.

Now, I know many women are good at multitasking, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy.

The emotional overload is draining.

And it’s why, even though I occasionally enjoy making dinner and developing a fun menu, coming up with the idea of what to eat for every single meal can be tedious and painful.

Recently, my 84-year-old dad validated my point.

For much of their marriage, my mom did most of the cooking and meal planning; and she was fine with that.

These days, my mom’s mind is not what it once was, and so my dad is now in charge of all the meals.

“Katrina,” he sighed, using his nickname for me. “I have a whole new appreciation for what you, your mom and your sister have done for your families. I had no idea how much energy went into all the planning, the shopping and the cooking. It is exhausting!”

Yes, it is.

It’s a lot for my dad; it’s a lot for most of us when we’re already stretched and busy taking care of the people we love.

Sometimes we need a break, someone else to carry the load, physically and mentally.

I’m getting better at pushing back, asking for help, telling everyone to fend for themselves. My favorite option happens on those evenings when I’m alone, my husband is out golfing or playing poker. I get almost giddy about the idea of not thinking about dinner.

I’m thrilled to simply have cheese, crackers and some fresh fruit.

It doesn’t really matter what I end up eating.

The best part is not having to decide.