You follow your old body up to your mother's, now your, room. It's your typical master bedroom, with queen sized bed, full vanity, and large closet. Nothing too remarkable, but still an upgrade from your room.
"Listen, I promise to make this as pain-free as possible, but I'm going to lay out some clothes for you to change into," your mother says. She walks over to the dresser and pulls out your new underwear. You can see the tan bra and pantie set that she selected for you. Modest, but not too grandma-y. She went into the closet, grabbing a pair of black shorts and a blouse to match. "I'll leave you to your own devices, but if you need anything, I'll be in your room getting ready myself".
As she exits the room, you stand there dumbfounded. Were you really going to comply with her demands? Did you actually have a choice? That fact remains, she's in your body, and going against her wishes would probably end up worse for you than just going along with it. With a bit of steadfast courage, you walk over to the pile of clothes on the bed and start getting dressed.
First thing's first, the undies. They were snug against your bottom, and pinched the fat around your abdomen slightly. You pull shorts up after that, buttoned them down, which took some extra effort. Maybe you'll lose five pounds for Mom, you think. The bra was next, it had to be done. you put it on backwards, snapped the clasps together, then spun it around. You put each of your flabby arms through the shoulder-straps and plopped each breast into their respective cup. After tightening down the shoulder straps, you look in the mirror. 'Hmm', you think to yourself, 'maybe just a little more lift for the ladies today'. You shortened up the straps a little more until you were satisfied with the job you had done with your boobs. You pull the blouse on over the whole mess and brace yourself for your first day as a mid-40's mother-of-two.