Dads Carry The Load Too: A Father’s Day Tribute

There’s a narrative that’s been circulating a lot lately—and for good reason.
It goes something like this: “Moms are carrying the mental load. Dads need to step it up.”

And honestly? I get it.
I’ve written blog post after blog post about how hard motherhood is. I’ve ranted about being burned out, spread thin, and desperate for five quiet minutes alone in the bathroom.

But here’s the truth I don’t say out loud often enough:

My husband is already pulling his weight.
And sometimes—okay, a lot of the time—I feel like he’s the better parent.

I’m not tired and burned out because my husband isn’t doing enough.
I’m tired because we’re in an exhausting season of life. We’re both tired. We both feel it.
But it’s more socially acceptable for moms to say it out loud, while dads are often expected to just carry it quietly and keep working.

He’s the one who thinks ahead.
He remembers the wipes.
He schedules (and pays for) daycare, takes the kids to school, and tucks them in most nights—even when it takes 45 minutes of lying next to our 5-year-old to finally get her settled.

He’s patient. He’s funny. He’s present. He plays. He listens. He shows up.

Meanwhile, I’m the ADD, scatterbrained one, forgetting the library books and spacing on school pajama days.
I love my kids fiercely. I certainly show up in my own ways.
But I often compare myself to him and come up short in my own mind.

I know I’m a good mom.
But I also know I’m not the most organized. Or clean.
I’m not the best cook.
I’m terrible at keeping up with laundry.
And I definitely don’t remember to clean out the preschool backpack until it’s already emitting a faint yogurt-like smell.

Sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough because he makes the majority of the money.
Sometimes I feel guilty for not being more Type A—more structured, more clean, more “together.”
And sometimes, I’m just plain jealous of how naturally fun and easygoing he is with the kids—while I’m over here mentally calculating nap schedules and their protein intake.

But here’s the other side of that:
He’s probably jealous of me sometimes too.
The time I get with them. The way they run to me for comfort. That natural girl connection we have.

And while my overflowing mental load is often filled with “Do we have enough diapers?” or “Is there a birthday party this weekend?”—his is just as full, just in different ways.
Things like:
“Can I get home in time for bedtime?”
“Does her car need an oil change?”
“Is the roof in good shape for the winter?”
“Am I doing enough to support my family and give them everything they deserve?”

We don’t talk enough about the mental load of fatherhood—and how it quietly stacks up.
It’s not that my mental load is heavier or more important. It’s just different.

He already knows I’m exhausted—I wear it out loud. But he rarely talks about his own exhaustion.
And he should.
All men should.

Because I’m sure it’s exhausting to feel the weight of providing for the family. And of course, family dynamics vary. Some households rely more on the mother’s income, or split financial responsibilities evenly. Others look totally different. But in our case, he happens to be the primary breadwinner—and I know that weight is heavy in its own way.

He’s also the one making sure the cars are safe, that there aren’t leaks above the kids’ heads, that there’s enough money in the account when the mortgage is due.
Just like moms feel the pressure of progress—get your body back, track the milestones, keep the kids healthy, be the perfectly present mom—dads are under pressure too.

Provide for your family.
Be a fun, present parent after work.
Give your wife a break so she can breathe.
Make more money so your kids can have the things they want.
Keep the house and cars in working order.
Never drop the ball.

So even when it seems like moms are carrying it all, let’s pause and remember: Dad’s not just sitting there with a clear head.
Sure, maybe he’s not mentally stressing about what we need at the store while he’s out golfing—but his plate is full too.

We don’t talk enough about dads like him.
The quiet heroes. The dependable ones.
The dads who don’t need reminding—who just do.
Who aren’t “babysitting” when they’re with their own kids—because they’re parenting.
Who work hard all day and still come home and give their best.

So this Father’s Day, I just want to say it plainly:

I see you.
I appreciate you.
And even though I might write a hundred blog posts about how hard this motherhood thing is—I know I’m not doing it alone, and I am so grateful for that.

I’m proud to raise our kids with you.
And they are so lucky to have such a devoted dad. Happy Father’s Day to our favorite dad, my own amazing Dad, and all the other hard working dads out there. You’re doing a great job.

Let’s not lose our minds together,

Tori