How to talk to your children… when they are middle-aged and moody

I feel bad when I hear people who are my age complaining about an estranged relationship with their parents. I’ve always been close with my parents, despite so many differences, and yet what works for us doesn’t always work for others.

A good relationship requires work. Let’s face it. Our parents didn’t understand us when we were listening to A Flock of Seagulls and they don’t always understand us now.

It’s not entirely their fault. Sometimes we are so obsessed with ourselves and our rotten, but loveable kids, we forget that we, too, are rotten and not always so loveable. Older moms and dads don’t have it easy. They are forced to deal with children who multi-task every minute of their lives, yet can’t find time for a lunch date. We retain water and debt, why not patience or the ability to talk to them for longer than ten minutes?

When they think about their middle-aged children, I’m sure they’re surprised. Our moms and dads thought if they loved us through that summer when we spoke MTV instead of English, they’d be home free. My parents, and my friends’ parents, truly believed once we got past piercing our noses, staying out after curfew, and dating mechanics, we’d all begin to understand each other.

For a short while, it happened. Like that old adage, after turning thirty and having kids, we realized our parents, who knew nothing when we were teenagers and young adults, suddenly had become brilliant.

But at forty, I’m seeing a rift develop yet again between Boomers and what Dad calls the “Boomerang” generation.

I’m all about helping my age group understand those who came before us. I often write posts asking the self-obsessed to lighten up when dealing with those who raised us to be self-obsessed.

But it’s not always our fault either. Isn’t it time for the Boomers to meet us halfway? I’ve listened to my peers’ complaints and figured out what my parents do right.

Therefore, here’s what you can do to improve your relationship with middle-aged kids.

1. Put on a shirt.

This makes lengthy conversations over meatloaf more appetizing. We know you can’t do much about nose hair and gas, but you can cover yourself during weekly Skype sessions or daily visits. If you want us to make eye contact, grab that Tommy Bahama shirt and button-up.

2. Pour a glass of wine first.

Serve something if you’re about to announce your imminent death, or if you’re finally kicking us out of the guest room. It wouldn’t hurt to mention your will, our place in it or float us an advance. Money and alcohol don’t solve all the world’s problems, but they cushion the blows.

3. Lower your voice.

Just because you’re deaf, doesn’t mean everyone else is. That waitress does not need to hear about how Vick’s VapoRub cures hemorrhoids. Good Lord, I don’t even think I need to know that.

4. Ease up on the racial slurs.

Aren’t you the one who taught us not to call names? We don’t care that your doctor is “smart for a Puerto Rican” and it’s not okay to refer to anyone as “one of them Orientals.” Mel Gibson does not “have a point.” You have completely taken leave of your senses when suggesting the best way to deal with homosexuals is to “take them out” with some sort of bat. A bat… old lady, you can’t lift a full mug of beer.

5. Blame it on hackers.

Technology is scary and so are your emails after happy hour down at the Legion, so play up your ignorance. Those five paragraphs you sent everyone about Emily being sired by a stranger during The Who’s gig at Woodstock? Pretend your email account was compromised, change to a new one, and, from now on, lay off the tequila.

6. Stop complaining.

My Nana liked to quote Maya Angelou and would often say, “Just because you have a pain, doesn’t mean you should be one.” No one wants to hear a litany of health problems. You’re falling apart; we get it.

And ease up on all the criticism. Ignore our wrinkles, love handles, and every other shortcoming you can see a mile away with those super-duper bifocals. We aren’t perfect, but we are trying our best. Telling your grandkids about their mom getting hammered in grade school does not encourage anything other than a violent episode with that toilet scrubber you use to scratch your back.

7. Find something to like.

We are in the same peer group now so pretend your daughter is a bridge partner or your son is a treasured fishing buddy – and be nice.

When was the last time you said, “You’re a terrific parent” or “Good job” or “That looks great on you”?

It shouldn’t be too difficult. I mean, we must be doing something right or you wouldn’t want to hang out with us all the time. Begin discussions with a statement about how great we turned out and offer us a homemade cookie.

Then maybe we’ll pretend to be interested in how your fingers smell like grilled cheese.

8. Zip it.

Many parents don’t complain or compliment. Instead, they sing their own praises. Enough already. When we get promoted or pregnant, don’t bring it back to you. Just congratulate us and buy a round.

Side Note: It sure is convenient that our strengths come from you, but our bad breath, toenails, and inability to balance a checkbook are from the other side of the family.

Stop taking credit for everything that works. On the other hand, don’t brag about your own accomplishments when we get fired or our children check into rehab. If we are having relationship troubles, fight the urge to mention that you can still rock the pussy at 72.

9. Just listen and smile.

Treat your middle-aged child like a child in middle school. We’re more alike than you ever imagined.

10. Basically, it boils down to this – stop reminding us that we’re just a few short years from becoming you.

Now, who’s buying?