When I talk of managing our frantic lives, I usually address women who work and have families. And I always say that they will have two constant companions the rest of their lives: guilt and exhaustion. Women admit to having frantic lives, going from one emergency to another, from one deadline to another, always catching up and never being caught up. Men, however, never admit to feeling frantic. Instead, they go to time management seminars, which may help in getting better organized, but skip over the feelings of being all-too-often out of control. At home, today’s man has very different responsibilities than his father, who came home to a hot meal with children in pajamas and ready for bed. He could relax with his newspaper in front of the radio, or later, the TV. Today’s husband comes home to a frantic wife who has also been gone all day, and he must help with the children, the meal and the cleaning up. He is also in charge of fixing everything that’s broken, from toys to the washing machine. He is expected to perform as a plumber, carpenter, electrician and an all-around handyman. The new equality expected in the home takes away from leisure, and whereas it is well-established that women come home from work to more work, it is underestimated how much work is also expected of men at home. They don’t just mow the lawn and take out the garbage (their fathers’ sole responsibilities); they do everything else, from changing diapers to bathing the children and from shopping to cooking. There is more to do because we do more of it ourselves, not relying on outside help, which has become very expensive. We are also complicating our lives by owning too much, doing too much and expecting too much from ourselves and one other. Old houses have small closets for a reason: people had fewer clothes, fewer appliances, fewer gadgets. At work, men have multiple roles that create overload. They don’t just shout orders anymore; they must “communicate.” When I taught management skills, I suggested that bosses explain “the big picture” to subordinates, to make them feel more committed to the task at hand. I preached mentorship: be a coach to your staff, be a team player and share with colleagues within your department and outside of it as well. All this leads to information overload and anxiety. Performance now comprises both the bottom line and having the right attitude. Taking on new roles, both at work and at home, reduces leisure time — time to relax, to recover, recuperate, regenerate. From early morning to late at night, men are performing. They are performing the traditional role of provider, even though many wives also provide, and they are to be the stalwart, strong, in-charge heroes of home and hearth, never admitting they’re exhausted, frantic, emotionally drained and scared. Those are women’s prerogatives. So today’s frantic men, who cannot admit they’re frantic, need to take a look at their lives in a new light and admit when they’re feeling out of control at times, so that they can negotiate for themselves some semblance of harmony and peace. It’s not easy if you have a two-career couple and children; but it’s doable if you are willing to lower your standards and live a somewhat simpler life. Personally, I don’t own anything that can’t go into the dishwasher or washing machine, or that needs ironing or polishing. When we went out for dinner, I ordered extra for take out so as not to have to cook the next meal. I invited friends for pizza on paper plates and wore a sweat suit. My mother would not have approved, but she did not have a frantic life. I did, and so did most of my friends. It’s time to sit down together and see what can be eliminated and reduced, or where help can be found in order to simplify our lives. Sharing feelings helps, but is often hard for men to do. Take the time to talk with your spouse about the quality of your lives (or the lack thereof) and about the need for leisure, for time alone to decompress, time for quiet, time for love. Constant overload puts pressure on the immune system. You owe it to yourself and each other to take some time out, some time off in order to silence the roar, to stop the guilt of the yet-to-be-done. So, I conclude with my motto: “Not everything worth doing is worth doing well.”