Mom Doesn't Get a Vacation. She Gets a Change of Scenery.
I know it's summer because my therapy office starts sounding the same.
"We got home from vacation and I need a vacation from my vacation."
"My husband had the best trip."
"I spent the whole week taking care of everyone else."
"My partner just had to show up. I had to make the vacation happen."
Before anyone starts sharpening their pitchforks, this isn't a husband problem. This is a mental load problem. Plenty of partners of all genders carry invisible labor. It just so happens that in many families, moms have quietly become the cruise directors of everyone's childhood.
Vacation starts weeks before anyone gets in the car.
Someone has to book the hotel. Figure out if the room has a refrigerator. Schedule the dog boarding. Make dinner reservations. Remember Grandma's birthday dinner. Buy sunscreen. Check the weather. Wash everyone's favorite bathing suit because somehow nobody has thought about swimming until the night before. Figure out if the gluten free snacks are packed because someone will inevitably get hungry between exits 173 and 174.
Someone has to remember medications.
Someone has to pack for themselves and for the kids.
Meanwhile, many moms sit there watching their partner pack one bag for one person while mentally checking off twenty seven other things that still need to happen before anyone can relax.
Then vacation arrives.
Dad is carrying the cooler.
Mom is carrying the emotional climate of the entire family.
She's taking the pictures because nobody else remembers. She's making sure everyone is dressed for the family photo. She's remembering the beach toys, the water bottles, the snacks, the towels, and the room key. She's counting heads every five minutes. She's deciding if the toddler is overtired or hungry. She's keeping an eye on everyone's sunscreen while simultaneously wondering if she remembered to turn the oven off before they left home.
Then someone says the phrase that sends moms everywhere into a quiet internal rage.
"Relax. You're on vacation."
She would love to.
She just can't figure out how.
Here's the thing I wish more families understood.
The mental load doesn't magically disappear because your zip code changed.
You cannot expect the person who has spent the entire year managing everyone's needs to suddenly switch that part of their brain off because there's a pool nearby.
If you're planning a vacation this summer, the work starts before you leave.
Talk about the invisible jobs.
Who is responsible for packing the kids?
Who is making reservations?
Who is responsible for snacks?
Who is taking pictures?
Who is in charge of sunscreen?
Who is getting everyone showered after the beach?
Who is planning meals?
Who is responsible for bedtime?
Don't ask, "How can I help?"
Ask, "What am I completely responsible for?"
Ownership is different than helping.
Helping assumes one person is still the project manager.
Ownership means you don't have to ask where the sunscreen is because it was your job to pack it.
If you're reading this from your vacation rental while hiding in the bathroom for five minutes of peace, it's not too late.
Notice where you're overfunctioning.
Let the kids wear mismatched clothes.
Let someone else figure out lunch.
Let your partner solve a problem without giving instructions first.
If something goes differently than you would have done it, ask yourself whether the outcome actually matters.
A lot of us aren't just carrying the luggage. We're carrying the belief that if we don't manage everything, everything falls apart.
That's exhausting.
If you're reading this after vacation with a healthy dose of resentment, I want you to know that resentment is usually information.
It's often a sign that you've been giving more than you've been acknowledging.
Instead of stuffing it down until next summer, have the conversation now.
Not, "You ruined vacation."
Try, "I realized I carried a lot of the planning and mental load for our trip, and I don't want to repeat that next year. Can we talk about how to divide things differently?"
Because this isn't about assigning blame.
It's about building a family where everyone participates in creating memories instead of one person quietly manufacturing them behind the scenes.
And to the moms reading this who have two hundred beautiful pictures from vacation but somehow aren't in any of them, hand someone else the camera tomorrow.
Get in the picture.
Sit in the beach chair.
Eat the ice cream before it melts.
Take the nap.
Go for the walk.
Your family doesn't need a perfect vacation.
They need memories with you in them.
If this summer vacation didn't go the way you hoped, let's not do it again next year.
Don't wait until June to talk about it.
Have the conversation while the sunscreen is still in the beach bag and the laundry still smells like the ocean.
The goal was never to create a perfect vacation.
The goal was to create a life where no one person has to carry everyone else's happiness.
And moms deserve a vacation too.
About the Author: Renée M. Calhoun, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist providing virtual therapy to individuals, couples, and families in Pennsylvania and New York. She specializes in ADHD, trauma, family systems, substance use, and supporting high functioning women and parents navigating stress, burnout, and life transitions. Renée is passionate about helping people understand their nervous systems, build healthier relationships, and feel more confident in their everyday lives. Learn more at www.reneecalhounlmft.com.
Disclaimer: This content is for educational purposes only and is not a substitute for therapy or mental health care.