Harsh realization

So yesterday I took the kids for a walk around the neighborhood as I do most days. I found myself temporarily concerned with the fact I was still in my sweatpants and wondered if neighbors would think I was slouchy walking around in public like that. As I concluded that there wasn't really any point in putting on jeans just for a quick walk it hit me. Oh shit I'm becoming my mother aren't I? I've joked about that before but never realized just how true it is.

My mom frequently hung out in sweatsuits all day and my dad picked on her for it. I'm not quite to the point of wearing matching purple sweatpants and sweatshirts just yet but really what is the difference? I had been letting getting dressed slide thinking that if we were staying in the house most of the day that there wasn't any point in dragging out more clothes just to create even more laundry. Plus there isn't really any denying that pj pants are more comfy that jeans. And for the record, yeah, jeans ARE dressed up for me these days.

This isn't the only way I've been turning into a clone of my mother either. Countless times I have seen my mother eat something just because it was there. The last piece of bacon nobody wanted. Free cookie displays in the grocery store. The rest of the macaroni and cheese on a kid's plate. Stuff that doesn't even taste good for chrissakes. Mindless eating. And damn it if I haven't started doing the same thing and I have no good explanation for it. The only thing I can come up with is that I am totally exhausted and in constant search for an energy source.

Then of course there is the negative self talk. Every meal I cook I'm critical of. Everything I do I find fault with. Do I really want my children, my daughter especially, to grow up hearing her mom put herself down like that? What kind of example does that set? So I'm recommitting myself to make a mindful effort to actually participate in the world around me instead of focusing so exclusively on feeding, clothing and nurturing the smaller members of the family. Now where the hell did I last have my hairbrush...