If I Don’t Do It Myself, It Doesn’t Get Done - His Side
In Part 1 of this multi-part series on mental load, ADHD partners, and staying married, you heard MacKenzie’s side of things. Now let’s get her husband’s side of things.
By Mike Lester, MacKenzie’s Husband Extraordinaire, a willing participant in his wife’s antics
A Husband’s Perspective on the Mental Load
The world’s greatest mom, wife, and therapist, MacKenzie Bradke Lester, asked me to write a complementary post from the other side of her post “If I Don’t Do It Myself, It Doesn’t Get Done.” I am the ADHD-brained husband who wants to make sure he’s doing right by her and our household but can’t seem to notice the things that need to be done (at the appropriate time and without instruction).
Interestingly, the very request for this composition sparked a thought about the subject for me.
The Struggle to Get It Right
I’m paraphrasing, I don’t remember the exact words:
Kenzie: Will you please write the second part of this blog post about my feelings on the mental load and how problems arise when you don’t see the things that need to be handled without being told?
Mike: Sure, no problem! How long should it be?
K: However long it needs to be.
M: So, like a couple paragraphs? A couple pages? A 50-page dissertation?
K: I don’t know. However long it needs to be.
M: ????
So, examining this interaction, I don’t know what it is exactly (and likely never will), but I get the feeling that it’s scratching at the door of the core problem for me.
I’m sure that MacKenzie is completely right here. She wants me to write it to be as long as it needs to be. She doesn’t want to write up a formal work request with exacting specifications and TPS reports.
But some part (probably the GIGANTIC, MAJOR part) of my hesitation about putting these thoughts to “paper” is that I don’t want to disappoint her. I want whatever I make for her to be the best possible thing.
The Journey of the Spoon™: Understanding Different Operating Modes
Different people just operate differently. I don’t mean to say that my mode of operation is always correct or that others are faulty.
For example, the top kitchen drawer by the dishwasher might be the place a certain important spoon obviously goes. But your partner’s equally obvious destination for it might be the second drawer by the oven.
Now, I want to be the attentive dishwasher who puts the spoon in the right place. But the first time I did it, I put the spoon in the wrong place (like a FOOL!). It took several occurrences of putting it in the wrong place and being corrected before I remembered where it should go.
Sometimes, though, my brain takes me places I don’t intend to go. Or perhaps, more correctly, it takes me nowhere in particular—and wherever that is, it’s far enough away that I forget my learned destination for the spoon.
Silent Resentment vs. Direct Communication
The Journey of the Spoon™ is obviously a trivial matter, but the moral of the story is “Different people just operate differently.”
If your partner does not operate differently than you, then I suppose you don’t have this problem. You are instead likely burdened with the problem of being completely insufferable as a couple to everyone you know.
When your partner operates differently from you, and the needed action goes against their default instinct, there has to be some kind of learning process:
It can be a simple “Hey, could you please put the spoon in the right place over here?” immediately after the misfire happens.
Or it could be months/years of silent resentment that builds up to an explosion of “YOU ABSOLUTE DONKEY, WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LOVE ME ENOUGH TO PUT THE SPOON IN THE RIGHT F*ING PLACE?!?!”**
As the donkey on the receiving end, I’d much prefer the first option.
Why I Don’t Always See the Things That Need to Be Done
Now, you might be wondering: Why do I need direction in the first place? Why can’t I just see what needs to be done?
Let’s use the example of straightening up clutter around the house.
There is a point where my wife can’t take it anymore and things have to get a bit organized. Believe it or not, there is a point where that happens for me as well—but these are two EXTREMELY different points.
The Five Phases of Understanding These Differences
Not even noticing they exist.
Noticing they exist, but not really recognizing their importance.
Noticing they exist, and trying to compromise and account for them in daily life (but failing from time to time).
???
Perfect domestic nirvana.
I’m currently at Step 3.
I wasn’t at Step 1 for very long, but I was stuck in Step 2 for ages. At this point, I’m putting in the necessary work.
Obviously, I’d like to get to Step 5, but I don’t even know what Step 4 is (or if it exists).
The Mental Cargo Net: Why Things Fall Off the Wagon
Here in Step 3, it’s easy to get wrapped up in executing the things you know your partner needs/wants/likes.
It’s like I put all my attention into the things I know are important, and sometimes that’s at the expense of many other things that might be obvious to some, but not obvious to me.
When those things are presented to me, there is definitely an element of shame.
Shame for:
Not having Hallmark Christmas tree farmer intuition.
Knowing but maybe forgetting.
Not even considering it in the slightest.
The Old-Timey Wagon Metaphor
Imagine an old-time cartoon trader, with a big wagon filled with his wares to sell.
Things are piled up in a big heap in the junky old cart as he makes his way down the dirt road.
So, I put this new thing on the pile of things to focus on in my cart.
Oftentimes, the thing tumbles down the pile and off the cart entirely.
Hopefully, I see it.
Sometimes, my partner has to see it and remind me to put it back on the pile.
This is the constant struggle. I want to catch it before it falls off, so I don’t have to put the burden on her to point it out.
The Truth: I Care—Even When I Forget
I know there will be things I miss, or forget, or don’t have assimilated into the routine. I can live with myself for those missteps.
But I cannot have it be that I “don’t care about it.”
Sometimes, my partner can get frustrated and feel like I don’t care about the thing.
If the thing is important to her, I care about it. Full stop.
But sometimes, my cart isn’t in good order, and things fall off.
If anybody knows where to get a 100% effective mental cargo net, please let me know.
So, what’s the solution?
Stay tuned for Part 3, where we’ll hear from an ADHD expert in the St. Louis area, Jennifer Ritchie, PsyD, where she’ll share some tips for both sides of this issue. Believe me, I’ve got my paper and pen ready! I can’t wait to hear how my husband and I can better support each other.
*Disclaimer: There were no twisted arms, threats or harm that came to anyone in the writing of this blog post. We are still madly in love and will be celebrating 17 years of marriage later this year.
