Do you ever feel like you’re carrying an invisible checklist in your head—one that just keeps getting heavier? The milk that needs buying, the reply to the strata manager, the library books already overdue, the energy bill waiting to be paid, the meeting agenda at work, and on top of it all the constant “mama, play with me!” tug at your sleeve. I know that feeling all too well. Just the other day, I caught myself snapping at home—not because anyone had done anything wrong, but because my brain felt too full to hold it all. Researchers estimate we make around 35,000 decisions every single day, and no wonder by midday it feels like our minds are running on fumes. This is what I call self-care for mental fatigue—not the polished, Instagrammable kind, but the simple strategies that stop the spinning and give our heads a little breathing space. In this post, I’ll share the real self-care practices I use on days I can’t even think straight—tiny, doable things that ease mental fatigue and make the day feel lighter.
Self-Care for Mental Fatigue in Real Life
As an early childhood teacher, I see daily how kids struggle when their working memory is overloaded: more spills, more tears, more “I can’t.” And truthfully, we’re no different. If that’s you today, please know—you’re not failing, you’re just full. Our adult brains also need breaks, visuals, and co-regulation. That’s why I keep a whiteboard on the fridge—not just for meal planning, but as my “external brain runway.” When I can’t even think straight, I dump every swirling thought onto it: bills, errands, appointments. It’s not just organisation; it’s nervous-system care. Just like the classroom wall that holds the daily plan so children don’t have to, it gives me the relief of not carrying everything inside my head.
Anchors That Keep Me Steady
Some days I don’t have space for baths or massages, but I’ve learned to hold on to three small anchors that remind me I matter too: skincare, food logging, and my glow drink. They sound tiny, but they’re powerful because they give me consistency. Children thrive on routine because it creates safety, and so do we. When I cleanse my face before dinner, log what I’ve eaten, or sip my collagen drink, it’s not really about appearance—it’s about choosing to show up for myself. On good nights I stretch it further with a face mask and a few pages of a book, a ritual that’s become non-negotiable. These simple self-love tips don’t take much time, but they make me feel human again.
Self-Care When You Can’t Think Straight
I’ve read plenty of “self-care” lists online, and honestly? Most of them made me feel worse. When your brain is foggy, advice like “book a weekend away” or “wake up earlier to journal” just doesn’t land. That’s why I’ve had to create my own ways of caring for myself that fit real life.
- Co-care.
For years I waited for alone time to do yoga or deep breathing, but it rarely came. Now I invite my toddler in. We stretch together, breathe together, or share a “special tea”—my tea and his toddler version. Co-regulation calms children, but it steadies me too. In fact, how caring for your kids can teach you to care for yourself has been one of the most unexpected lessons of motherhood. - Two-second capture rule.
Traditional productivity advice says if something takes two minutes, do it right away. But mamas in the middle of tantrums know that’s not always possible. So I capture instead. In two seconds, I speak a reminder into my watch or jot it in my notes. Later at night, I sort it properly into my calendar or shopping list. It’s the same principle I used as a teacher—I’d often jot quick notes to capture a child’s learning before the moment disappeared. That two-second pause lowers the noise in my brain instantly, which is a form of self-care for mental fatigue in itself. - “Decide once” menus
And then there’s decision fatigue. Researchers have shown that the more choices we make in a day, the faster our willpower drains. That’s why I’ve moved to “decide once” menus: our go-to milk, our default dinner, our standard car snacks. It’s one less decision my brain has to hold. I also borrow transition cues from the classroom: tidy-up songs, short timers, or first-then language. Predictability takes the heat out of stressful switches—for kids and for us. Even doorway resets help: pausing for one slow breath each time I walk into a new room. These short self-care breaks don’t take effort, but they change the tone of the whole day.
Here’s the part that surprised me: half-done still counts. Throwing library books in the car without returning them yet, opening the bill without paying it, even just writing “doctor’s appointment” in my notes—those tiny moves are progress. In early childhood, we celebrate attempts and effort as much as outcomes. Why shouldn’t we give ourselves the same grace? And sometimes self-care isn’t about adding, it’s about subtracting. Closing apps, saying no to one more commitment, or skipping the overcomplicated dinner plan—that reduction is a kindness too.
My Self-Care Routine
When the mental tabs won’t stop flickering, I follow a simple flow instead of chasing perfection. First, I brain-dump onto my fridge whiteboard. Then I ground myself with co-care: three shared breaths or a two-minute stretch with my toddler. I anchor with skincare and my glow drink, then pick just one tiny action to land—pay a bill, toss library books in the car, or set a calendar reminder. Finally, I close the day with a hygge ritual: lamp on, blanket pulled close, a chapter of a book, sometimes a face mask. It’s not polished, but it’s steady. And steady is what matters. It’s why finding balance as a busy mama isn’t about doing more; it’s about choosing the next right thing with the energy you have.
Why This Self-Care Helps Mental Fatigue
The reason these strategies work is the same reason I see children thrive when we slow down and offer structure. Working memory is limited, but visuals protect it. Co-regulation is contagious; when I slow my breath, my child’s body hears “you’re safe,” and mine does too. Consistent anchors build security; children rely on routine, and so do we. Transitions need cues; songs and timers soften switches for both little nervous systems and ours. Repetition builds comfort, which is why nightly hygge rituals—soft lights, warm drinks, familiar cues—work better than any checklist of “perfect self-care.” This is the heart of self-care for mental fatigue: small, repeatable kindness that keeps you steady even when your mind is foggy.
Gentle Self-Care When You Have No Energy
If you’re reading this while your brain feels crowded, please hear me: you’re not failing—you’re just full. Write it down, breathe with your child, choose one tiny thing, and let that be enough. When life happens, what kids really need from us parents isn’t perfection but presence. In the classroom, I’ve seen how children flourish most when the adults around them slow down, tune in, and respond rather than rush to fix. They don’t need us to have all the answers—they need us steady, available, and human. And what we need from ourselves isn’t a spa day, but softness and compassion. That’s why self-care in difficult seasons looks different, and why adjusting your routines when life gets tough is not weakness—it’s wisdom.
Quick-Reference Recap
When brain fog hits, remember this gentle flow:
- Dump it (external brain runway).
- Regulate together (co-care breaths or stretch).
- Anchor in your three rules.
- Land one plane (choose one tiny action).
- Hygge signal at night.
And don’t forget to celebrate the little wins—finishing bedtime, getting through a meeting, or even laughing with your child for five minutes all count. These are the anchors that steady you more than any checklist.
If this felt like a breath out, brew your favourite tea and join my TEA-m newsletter. I send warm, real notes filled with teacher-informed insights, tiny resets, and gentle encouragement—short pauses you can read in under five minutes, and still walk away feeling grounded. Even joining my TEA-m is a form of self-care—it’s a pause for you, a reminder in your inbox that you matter. And I’d love to know—what’s your go-to reset when your brain feels too full? Leave it in the comments so we can inspire each other. Sometimes pausing to read is self-care too. Hit subscribe below, and let’s walk this together—one anchor, one breath, one small act of self-care for mental fatigue at a time.
Self-care for mental fatigue isn’t about doing more—it’s about releasing what your brain can’t hold, breathing with your child, and choosing the next tiny thing.
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