I never really thought about what happens to a mum’s brain when she gets time away from her kids. Then I went on a hen do and found out firsthand.
The alarm went off at 4am. Not the usual “get the kids ready” 4am dread, but a different kind. The good kind. The kind where you’re already half awake because you’re actually excited.
By 5am I was stood in my friend’s kitchen, prosecco in hand, fruit on the side, everyone buzzing with that electric energy you only get when a group of women know they’re about to have the time of their lives. We were waiting for the bride-to-be. And when she arrived, looking absolutely gorgeous in her brand new white tracksuit, we dressed her in a giant yellow chicken suit.
She WAS NOT happy. But in good form she went along with it, and honestly, she wore it with more grace than most people wear actual clothes.
A few cheeky spirits in a can on the ride to the airport, a lovely breakfast in the airport pub, and then we boarded. I found my seat, got settled, and just before I switched my phone to airplane mode, a text came through from David.
“Have a good flight, text me when you land… don’t worry kids are all sorted and we’re off to school.”
Exhale.
Just one text. And the weight lifted.
I hadn’t even left the country yet and I could already feel something shifting. All those mum tabs I permanently have open in my brain, school bags, packed lunches, who needs what, did anyone feed the cat, is there clean PE kit, the endless invisible list that never actually ends, they just… paused. Because someone I trusted had it handled.
Here’s the thing that caught me off guard though. I didn’t realise quite how heavy I’d been carrying everything until I actually put it down.
The Moment Fun Jen Came Back
Kim and I talked for the entire four hour flight. Genuinely talked. Not the ‘half listening while mentally writing a shopping list’ kind that passes for conversation when you’re permanently exhausted. Properly present, interested, laughing. Four hours felt like nothing.
There’s actually a reason that felt so good. Genuine connection and deep conversation releases oxytocin, your bonding hormone. The same one released when you hug your kids. It directly counters cortisol. My brain was basically detoxing at 30,000 feet.
Then we landed and the Tenerife heat hit me in the face like a thick warm blanket and I thought, YES. This… This is exactly what I needed.
We got to the hotel, got changed, and within what felt like about seven minutes were sat at the pool bar on our second cocktails with the drinking games already underway. And somewhere around that point I felt something click back into place.
Fun Jen. There she is.
But the real moment, the one where I knew she was properly back, came that evening. We got dressed up, went for dinner, found a bar nearby with a live sax player. And a pair of bongos just sat there. Unattended. Calling to me.
Now. I cannot play the bongos.
But somewhere in my brain, the old feral fun Jen who’d been quietly buried under school runs and packed lunches piped up and said go on Jen, join the band.
So I did.
And here’s the science bit. Every time I was crying laughing that weekend, and there were many times, my brain was releasing dopamine, your reward chemical. Chronically stressed mums are often running seriously low on it. Turns out dancing badly and playing bongos you can’t actually play is basically medicine
That is not something “permanently on autopilot mum Jen” does. She sits nicely and wonders if she remembered to turn the iron off. But this Jen? She picks up the bongos.
The rest of the weekend followed in a similar spirit. Cowgirl outfits for ‘Chelsea’s Last Rodeo’, dancing until 2am, a third day where I was so rough I slept on a sun lounger for three solid hours while everyone quietly forgot I existed (genuinely, zero complaints), and somewhere in between all of it I connected with women I’d only just met well enough that a couple of us have signed up to do a Hyrox together by the end of the year.
That last bit is actually science too. Research shows that when the mental load lifts and we get proper rest, the part of the brain responsible for social connection literally comes back online. We become better listeners, more present, more ourselves. It’s not magic. It’s just what your brain does when you finally close the tabs.
Meanwhile, Back At Home…
While I was sleeping on that sun lounger, life at home was happening at full speed.
Evelyn’s bum-length hair got so matted David had to cut a chunk out. Dominic made a bid for freedom down the street while David’s back was turned for approximately one minute. The hoover broke. The cat got a plastic bag stuck on his head at 3am. David had to navigate Evelyn going to a friend’s AND Dominic going to a birthday party where he was the only boy, surrounded entirely by girl mums.
David messaged to say don’t ever leave him again. Joking. Mostly. And here’s what I want you to notice about that list. Chaotic. Slightly unhinged. And every single thing got handled.
Coming Home
By home day I was exhausted in body, soul, and spirit. But in the best possible way. The kind of exhausted that comes from laughing too much and dancing too hard and actually living for a few days rather than just managing everything.
I was ready for my babies. Missed them genuinely, not in a guilty anxious way, just in the simple way of wanting to see the people you love.
And when I walked through the door, David had cleaned the car, mopped the floors, no dishes, minimal washing, kids rooms nearly tidy, fresh bedding on the bed.
I didn’t have to open a single tab. I could just be happy to see my people.
That matters more than I can explain. And I know not every mum comes home to that. Having a partner you actually trust to not let everything go up in flames is, honestly, a key ingredient in being able to switch off in the first place. Some mums don’t have that and it’s hard. I’m not writing this to tell you to book a hen do and you’ll be fixed. It’s more complicated than that.
The next morning the alarm went off, kids needed getting ready, school drop offs, back to work. Full swing. Like it never happened.
Except my body was still living in Tenerife.
So What Does It Actually Mean?
Here’s what I now know about a mum’s brain when it finally gets time away from the kids…
The fun version of you, the one who makes people laugh, who picks up the bongos, who has a four hour conversation and means every single word of it, she doesn’t disappear when you become a mum. She just gets buried. Under the decisions and the mental load and the cortisol and the 86% of us who feel rushed every single day.
She needs permission to come out. Sometimes that’s a girls trip to Tenerife. Sometimes it might just be an afternoon where someone else has it handled and you finally get to exhale.
Either way, it’s not indulgent. It’s not selfish. Your brain literally needs it.
Now if you’ll excuse me I need to go and google what a full Hyrox actually is before October. 😐
📚If this resonated and you want to go deeper, I’ve been reading…
