It’s Not Mum Brain; It’s Mental Overload in Disguise

We’ve all heard it—"mum brain."

Maybe you’ve even said it yourself on one of those days when you’re juggling work deadlines, family schedules, and remembering to defrost the chicken for dinner, only to forget where you put your car keys or why you walked into a room.

It’s meant to be harmless, even relatable. But have you ever stopped to think about what it really implies?

Because here’s the thing: “Mum brain” is one of those phrases that seems like it’s giving us a pass, but it’s actually doing the opposite. When people casually toss it around, what they’re really saying—whether they realize it or not—is that mums are a little forgetful, a little scatterbrained. Never mind that we’re running empires, raising humans, and possibly keeping a few plants alive (though that last one might be pushing it).

And why is it always "mum brain"? Not "parent brain" or, heaven forbid, "dad brain"?

Let’s face it. There’s a reason it’s called what it is. Because, in most cases, it really is just us who have a million tabs open in our brains at any given moment.

We’re the ones keeping track of dentist appointments, managing school projects, organising the household, and remembering to restock the snacks while also running businesses and solving client crises. It’s not a coincidence—it’s a pattern.

But the reality?

Business-owning mums aren’t forgetful because they’re inherently scattered.

It’s because they’re managing a relentless to-do list that would make even the most seasoned project manager break out in a cold sweat.

Client meetings, marketing campaigns, team management, and financial planning.

School pickups, meal prep, remembering the costume for book week, organising dentist appointments, and somehow squeezing in the emotional labor of everyone in the household.

And let’s not forget the half-finished laundry pile glaring at us from across the room. It’s not “mum brain”; it’s orchestrating a full-scale operation with no intermissions.

Here’s where it gets even more interesting (read: frustrating). Sometimes we say “mum brain” about ourselves.

You know the moment—you forget the one thing you told yourself not to forget, so you laugh it off with, “Oh, just my mum brain!” It feels harmless, maybe even comforting. But honestly, underneath the joke, it’s usually masking something bigger.

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re stretched so thin you’ve become a human post-it note, scribbling mental reminders while brushing your teeth.

Maybe it’s a tiny pang of guilt for not being superhuman (which is ridiculous because we’re pretty close). Or maybe it’s just the exhaustion of feeling like no matter how much you do, it’s never quite enough.

By calling it “mum brain,” we downplay the incredible work we’re doing while carrying the mental load of everyone and everything. We brush off the overwhelm instead of confronting it—and let’s be honest, that doesn’t serve us at all.

And here’s the kicker: when others say it, they’re not wrong in noticing how much we’ve got going on. They just stop short of doing anything about it. It’s like saying, “Wow, you’ve got a lot on your plate!” while handing us another helping. Cool, thanks for the observation—where’s the part where you step in and offer to help?

So maybe it’s time we collectively retired “mum brain” as an explanation. The phrase does a terrible job of capturing the actual reality: we’re high-functioning problem-solvers, strategists, and emotional anchors who occasionally forget our sunglasses on top of our heads.

If there’s a lapse in focus, it’s not because we’re frazzled mums; it’s because we’re running the equivalent of a Fortune 500 company disguised as a family business hybrid.

Instead of brushing off these moments with a casual joke, maybe we start recognising them for what they are: a sign that we’re managing a lot and could use a little more support—or at least some credit for doing it all with as much grace as we do.

And for the rest of the world?

Skip the mum brain comments and go straight to something more useful.

Like asking, “What can I take off your plate today?” Or better yet, just doing the thing without us having to delegate it first.

Revolutionary, I know.

Because at the end of the day, it’s not “mum brain.”

It’s brilliance under pressure, creative problem-solving, and the occasional lapse caused by running on three hours of sleep.

And if anyone doubts that?

Well, maybe they should try stepping into our shoes for a day—assuming they can find them under the pile of everything we’re currently managing.