Good news, fellow parents: our children may have laid waste to our finances, pelvic integrity and circadian rhythms, and mocked our new sandals so devastatingly we can never wear them again, but a series of studies reported in New Scientist suggest parenting “may permanently improve brain health for Mum and Dad”. In one study, mothers with more children showed patterns associated with younger brains; another of nearly 38,000 people found “mothers and fathers have younger-looking brains”.

This is unexpected. I feel as though parenting reduced me to a cognitive husk: the lyrics to Here Comes a Digger – a rare groove from a DVD my elder son briefly enjoyed in 2005 – long ago supplanting the whereabouts of my keys, informed political opinions and the ability to form coherent sentences. I’m only fit for three things now: worrying, laundry and snacks.

But actually, it tracks. What could be more protective of cognitive reserve – brain resilience – than parenting? Right from the start, there’s a relentless barrage of urgent stuff to learn – weaning strategies, Charli xcx lore, GCSE urban geography case studies. The emotional learning curve is equally steep: negotiating with toddlers (to paraphrase Rebekah Vardy, you know you’re right but they’ll still shit in your hair), thrashing out screen time, offering sage advice on heartbreak you’ve never experienced and barely understand (who did what on Snapchat?). You’re also constantly interacting with people you wouldn’t otherwise meet – the delivery driver your preschooler is fixated on; fellow parents at taekwondo (or in my case “speedcubing” competitions); the twentysomething goth selling you two pre-loved bearded dragons.

It’s a 20-plus-year succession of curveballs, demanding fiendish adaptability, world-class interpersonal skills and inspired improvisation. Fashion a World Book Day costume from four batteries and your own tears! Locate a teen whose phone has died and whose last message was “near a shop, ugh hurry”! Your kid hates pasta now, has put Lego up their nose, is changing their name, is moving (sob) to New York!

When you think about it like that, it feels as if our brains could last for ever. But would we want them to? We’re so, so tired.

Emma Beddington is a Guardian columnist