A field guide to growing up without growing apart

When Parents Become Guests

So my parents came to visit. Normally this would not be a momentous occasion, but since I moved out of the country just after my wedding, I never had a chance to set up house somewhere and invite my parents over, until now.

Snow Whore has blogged before about what it’s like to suddenly be the host, catering to your parents’ every need and being exposed to their every opinion about how you do things. Snow Whore’s mom doesn’t like mismatched guest towels or a lack of washcloths. So I was curious to find out what my mother would find to criticize when she visited my house for the first time.

Luckily, if she had complaints (I didn’t provide washcloths either, oops!) she kept them to herself, and we had a great visit overall. But it was still weird. Weird to be the host and have my parents be the guests. Weird to be telling them to help themselves to my food and feel free to use my computer. A complete role reversal.

vacuum-demotivational

It has been a year since I moved away, so I’ve had time to establish my own ways of doing things. And I won’t lie, some of the habits I’ve tried hard to cultivate when it comes to housekeeping were inspired by the fact that my parents often failed in these areas. You see, while Snow Whore was raised by an ultra-organized clean freak, I was raised by, well, two people who are an awful lot like me, kind of lazy and laissez faire when it comes to keeping things neat. I will readily admit that my brothers and I did not make it easy for my mom to keep a clean house, but her own tendencies contributed too. She could never keep up with the laundry, and the kitchen never stayed clean for more than 12 hours at a time.

 

I’ve always been messy myself, so I can’t judge my parents too harshly. But still, there was a part of me that was eager for them to finally visit and see that yes, I was a full-fledged adult capable of running a house. It reminded me of the times when my angsty teenage self would complain about having to do the dishes, but swear up and down that when I was older and had my own house, I’d do them happily.

Well, I wouldn’t say I always do them happily, but I have become pretty consistent about keeping the clutter and chaos to a minimum. I guess having a husband who’s neat and clean by nature helps a lot, too. So they came, they saw, and if they had anything to judge me about, they kept quiet.

It’s kind of silly that I even cared so much about what they thought. After all, we’re family, and we all know each other’s weaknesses and strengths. In a few years when I have kids running around and messing up my house, I’m sure I’ll be happy to have my parents over even if I haven’t cleaned the kitchen in weeks—I’ll need all the help I can get. But now, in my 20’s, I still feel a tinge of that need to prove myself. I guess it’s part of making the transition from childhood to adulthood, and my parents and I are just figuring it all out as we go along.



2 thoughts on “When Parents Become Guests”

  • yup. definitely not in that life stage yet. but i get how it would be seriously odd. But try not to feel like you have to prove anything to them; they know you aren’t just playing house.

  • This is a great post. My mom freaks out almost every time she comes to visit. Even though I clean, it’s never spotless enough to qualify for her “white glove” standards.

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