This can intensify as the festive season approaches and we get more and more stressed with those around us, be it teens or grumpy husbands. Suddenly, out of our mouths come those very same words that once made our hair stand on end.

Here are seven signs you may be turning into your mum…

You never go anywhere without a coat

How annoying did you use to find your mum’s weather scepticism? How even when it was warm and the forecast upbeat, she’d sling a coat over her arm “just in case”, and would suggest you might want to do the same. Even more so if the day started sunny and bright (“there’s always a chance it might cloud over”). Ridiculous.

And yet, here you are now, reaching for that extra layer just as she once did. Despite robust empirical evidence from the Met Office that suggests there’s no need for a coat, or extra cardie, scarf or pair of gloves, you cannot resist the pull of that “just in case” jacket. You even took it with you on that mid-July drop-and-flop trip to the Med.

It’s not pessimism. You realise now that your mothers had simply managed to grasp that weather is slightly changeable, and prepared accordingly.

You don’t know any of the celebrities or musicians your kids are talking about

Remember that feeling of instant irritation during your grumpy teenage years when your mum would wander in while you were glued to Top of the Pops and ask who the acts were? My mother seemed especially baffled by whatever music was blasting from the screen. (Being a child of the 1980s, it was likely Spandau Ballet, ABC or Duran Duran.)

Her incomprehension was palpable: “Why has that man got a white stripe on his nose?” she wondered aloud while I was mesmerised by Adam Ant.

Fast forward a few decades and you might find yourself on the other side of the divide, staring blankly at your children’s Spotify playlists. Who are these so-called titans of pop blasting from their bedrooms or hijacking the car radio as they switch stations from your beloved Radio 2? When I recently asked my son about the line-up at a festival he was heading to, he sighed with admirable patience: “You know you won’t have heard of any of them, so shall I save us both time by not telling you?”

The echo of history was deafening. I could hear my mother’s heavenly chuckle.

You realise where your mother was coming from as you have the same rows with your kids

“I know it’s cloudy, but you should still wear sunblock or you’ll end up with wrinkles.”

“If you eat that fast, you’ll get indigestion.”

“Shouldn’t the bedside light be a bit closer if you’re reading?”

“Try not to slouch when you walk.”

Fuss, fuss, fuss. How often did you endure such endless little warnings from your mother – exasperated at what felt like needless micromanagement?

And yet here you are, decades later, recycling the very same lines. Catch your child hunched over an iPad in a half-lit bedroom and suddenly you’re channelling your mother word for word. The very arguments you once railed against have become your own arsenal in skirmishes over untidy bedrooms, skipped breakfasts or poor posture.

You want regular phone calls from your offspring

In today’s high-tech world, you don’t need to speak to your children to know how they’re doing. WhatsApp, voice notes, quick-fire videos – there are endless ways to keep in touch.

But here’s the thing: you want to speak to them. A pixelated clip isn’t enough. You crave the conversation itself, the nuance and spontaneity – just as your mothers once did when you left home. Back then you didn’t fully grasp why it mattered, though you played along.

When my older brother moved abroad in his 20s, he and my mum set up a Friday morning phone call. It became their ritual – and it lasted nearly 35 years, until she died. I was still at home when it began, and I remember teasing them about the sacredness of it all. Yet here I am, decades later, enforcing the very same tradition with my own children. Friday is for a proper conversation. Even five minutes will do.

My eldest likes to joke when he rings: “Here’s your perfunctory call, Mum.”

Craving for that phone to ring really is a mother’s calling. It’s what she wanted and now you do too.

You use your mum’s philosophical sayings

Forget those cheesy quotes which get shared and re-shared on social media. A true sign you are turning into your mother is when you start using all of her sayings. In fact, the older you get the more you may remember some of your mum’s favourite phrases or maxims.

My own mother had a particular talent for delivering nuggets of wisdom. Favourites from Mum’s back catalogue include: “You win more wars with honey” – ie when arguing with someone try and wrong-foot them with a sweet approach.

Others include: “You can’t build your happiness on other people’s misery.” Or, the absolute banger about playing hard to get: “You can’t chase a bus once you’ve caught it.”

You collect plastic containers and bags

Long before recycling became fashionable, mothers had quietly mastered this in their own home. From the tin of Quality Street reborn as a sewing kit to empty ice-cream tubs stacked like Russian dolls, ready to moonlight as picnic boxes or emergency plant pots.

And now, without even realising it, you do the same. There’s a drawer where carrier bags are folded with origami-like precision, while biscuit tins are never discarded – but wait to be recommissioned. Your mother would be so proud (and your kids are disappointed at the lack of biscuits).

You tell yourself you have food at home…

Who’s immune to the pull of a cheeky takeaway? Very few people, in my opinion. But these days, you resist. Like your mother once did, you deflect the opportunity to eat out or order in because “there’s food at home”.

How can you justify the siren call of a portion of fish and chips when the remains of last night’s lasagne lay idle in the fridge? Of course when your mum fielded this argument with absolute conviction it used to drive you mad.

Now you do the same. Arguing away the chance of a blowout at the local Chinese because you’ve got food at home. Too much of it.