I'm a 44-year-old mom of 4. I finally learned how to set clear boundaries, starting with dryer balls.

My four kids have had chores since they were young.

I believe that many hands make light work and that teamwork in a family home is important.

I also know that chores teach kids life skills they can carry into adulthood.

Because there are six of us, we each have a designated laundry day for our clothes, sheets, and towels.

Each of my four kids, the youngest being 9-years-old, does their own laundry on their day.

Of all things, a dryer ball did me in.

Looking back, I’m glad it did, because it sparked an important change in our family dynamic.

In our house, we use wool dryer balls, dabbed with a skin-safe essential oil with every load of laundry.

Every time it was my laundry day, I would find only one or two (of my supply of 10) dryer balls waiting for me.

I would repeatedly ask my family to return the dryer balls they accidentally scooped out of the dryer with their laundry and took to their bedrooms.

Yet, week after week, I would, on a good day, have only two dryer balls at my disposal.

Recently, it was my laundry day, and there it was: one graying, dingy ball, all by itself in the dryer, lonely and rather useless.

I’m convinced part of my anger could be blamed on perimenopause (estrogen, where art thou?), while the rest of my rage felt like hurt.

My needs weren’t considered — as they often aren’t when you’re a partner and mom.

Was it my job to once again beckon and plead for missing dryer balls?

Deal with the sighs and “not now; I’m busy” replies?

Should I create a wanted poster and offer a reward?

I decided that I was tired of reminding, begging, and chasing.

I grabbed my water bottle and purse, announced I’d be back later (not sure anyone was even listening to me), and headed to my favorite store, T.J.

If I were going to shop for something as boring and infuriating as dryer balls, I wanted to at least be somewhere that generates dopamine.

I managed to secure an eight-pack of bright-white, perfectly rounded dryer balls, along with a few other items to reward myself for surviving a stressful morning Now, every week, when I take my basket of dirty laundry into the laundry room, I shove as much as I can into the washing machine.

There, at the bottom of my basket, are all eight dryer balls, waiting to do their job — just for me.

Once all my laundry is dry, I scoop the dryer balls out of the dryer, drop them into the bottom of my empty basket, pile the warm, clean laundry on top, and saunter away to my room, satisfied that I’ve won some sort of battle.

The reality is, moms and partners give so much every day to ensure that their families, of any size or form, have what they need.

Females have been conditioned to be nurturing, selfless, exhausted caregivers.

This comes at a tremendous cost to many of us.

Our batteries are never fully charged.

In fact, I’m convinced we all run on “low battery” mode almost all of the time.

For some, you might wonder why dryer balls were mere objects that sent me over the edge.

For others, you completely understand.

At some point, we want someone to care for us in the many ways we relentlessly care for others.

After the dryer ball incident, I realized the many ways I wasn’t setting boundaries with my family.

The majority of these situations were what most would consider small things, but any parent will tell you that the little things quickly add up to a crumbling mountain.

I am continuing to learn how to set, adapt, and hold to boundaries to lessen my load, and I don’t just mean my laundry load.