While I waited recently in a retail spot across the river, I was basically forced to become part of a conversation I really didn’t want to be in. I couldn’t get out of line. I couldn’t escape. Although one of my pet peeves is nosiness and people not minding their own business, here I was eavesdropping. I had no choice. Two gals behind me were raking some people over the coals. Both seemed to be a little stressed about things and they were not using their inside voices. I acted as though I heard nothing.

I soon found out they were talking about their grown children. Both of them had been on a recent visit to the homes of their children. I was amazed at what I was hearing.

One lady spoke about what a terrible housekeeper her daughter was. She talked about how her carpets needed to be cleaned and about how the laundry never seemed to be finished. She talked about how her grandchildren didn’t help out enough around the house and how they were always running around, going here and there when her daughter should really be at home cleaning her house and cooking. She talked about how dirty their minivan was, how unorganized they were and how they were frequently losing things. She said they were all procrastinators and were late some times. The more she talked, the more things she came up with to criticize.

The other lady chimed in and began to bash her daughter-in-law about how she also seemed to neglect her house. She thought her grandchildren needed to be dressed a little better and she wondered why her son didn’t insist that his wife be a little “fancier” with things. She wondered aloud why her son put up with such things because he certainly wasn’t raised in that type of house. She continued on until she was satisfied she had come up with as long a list as her friend had.

Both ladies compared notes on how they kept it all going when they themselves were young mothers. They talked about cooking, keeping house, and doing all that needed to be done. I didn’t hear them mention spending time with their kids, but I’m guessing they hadn’t much time left in their schedule for “quality time.” Of course, I’m just speculating.

To me, both women were more worried about how things appeared and how people perceived them. One even said “it’s embarrassing to me” when discussing the “appalling” state of their children’s lives.

I finally got my business done and got out of there, but I thought a lot about those poor ladies (and their poor children) on the drive home. I tried to picture what it must be like when they were visiting their children. Did they roll their eyes or sigh when they saw something that didn’t meet their approval at the homes of their children? Did they speak up?  Did they pretend they didn’t notice and put on a false smile?  Did they make passive-aggressive comments or scold their grown children? Do their children know how they feel and merely tolerate them? Do their children visit much or want to be around them?

Do they realize they are putting conditions on the love they are giving their children?

Then I thought about my own kids. I have often watched them come out of the upstairs shower wrapped in their robes, knowing their feet weren’t dry.  I know they walk across the wood floor (that is sometimes dusty) with damp feet and proceed on down the carpeted stairs. I know they track in dirt when we aren’t watching to remind them to take their shoes off. Yes, our stair carpeting could use a shampooing right now.

I think to myself that I would be nagging them all constantly if I were to point out every little thing they do wrong. Do I want to be a dad like that? Do I want them to remember that all I did was concern myself with the way things look and what they were doing wrong?

There are plenty of things that need to be done around my house, but sometimes we decide to go somewhere or play a game or read a story. Sometimes, we go to bed with dishes in the sink. Laundry is almost always ready to be washed or folded or put away. Sometimes, it sits in the baskets for a while.  And we are not bad people.  We have good kids. Our identities, self-worth, or hearts are not tied to how clean our homes or cars are. Heck, sometimes we are just too danged tired for any of it!

I’m ashamed to tell you I have often said some of the same things those ladies were saying. I’ve looked down my nose at people who weren’t organized and clean as a pin. I have wondered why people didn’t take care of their cars better or keep their house cleaner. I have mentioned these things in this column before. I guess I am a reformed neatness nut, if you will.

What broke me out of this? I had four kids. It took me having more than two to realize what was important and what wasn’t.  I wish I could go back and forego cleaning up my car or working in the yard or fretting over our house not being clean enough. I wish I could go back and trade my need for order and neatness for more time to play with my kids. It doesn’t work that way, I’m afraid.

I’m also ashamed to tell you I have criticized my kids, just like those ladies. I’ve spent too much time worried about how they were going to look in public or how others might think my kids look like ragamuffins.  Maybe those people out there would think I’m a bad parent.

Again, I wish I could undo some things I’ve done or said. I wish I had caught myself being critical. I wish I would have gently guided my kids instead of practically forcing them to do it my way. I wish I could just get over myself and let them learn and make mistakes. I wish I didn’t have such a great need to be in control, be the boss, and make them think I knew the best way to do everything.

As parents, we certainly have obligations, even with our grown children. However, there comes a time when we must stop being critical, stop worrying that they aren’t doing things our way, and stop being concerned with things that are simply none of our business. I think as our children grow older, we must support them and build them up as much as we can. If they ask our advice, we can give it to them. But after a while, we need to take a look at our children and realize who they are and how old they are.  We must let them grow up and realize there are certainly things they are capable of doing without our input.

We need to stop being judgmental and need to be supportive. Oh wait, did I already say that?

I will never forget the time I helped my son with a written report. He only asked me to proofread it.  I ended up practically rewriting it for him, making comments on how he could make it flow better and how he could make the sentences better. I was certain I was doing the right thing.

“Thanks Dad, but I didn’t ask you to rewrite it. I just needed you to proofread it.” I think he was all of 8 or 9 at the time.

A new year is approaching.  Perhaps we can step back a little. Perhaps we can get past our own selfishness and remember that our kids’ lives don’t always directly reflect on us. We need to get rid of judgment and criticism and being butt-inkskys.

Instead, how about making 2016 the year of building our kids up? Make it a year of support, of unconditional love, and of being available. Let’s pray for our kids, too.

If we really want the best for our kids, maybe this would be a good place to start.