8 visiting protocols Boomers expect from family that younger generations find exhausting

My partner and I were getting ready for a weekend visit from my parents last month. I was throwing some sheets on the guest bed when she asked me if I'd prepped the itinerary yet.

The itinerary.

For a two-day visit.

She was joking, but also not really. Because here's the thing: my parents operate under a very specific set of expectations when it comes to family visits. There are protocols. Unspoken rules passed down from some mysterious boomer handbook that apparently everyone from that generation received at birth.

And if you violate them? Well, nobody dies, but you'll definitely hear about it. Probably for years.

I grew up with these expectations, so I know them by heart. But watching my partner (who comes from a much more relaxed family dynamic) try to navigate them has been enlightening. She sees them for what they are: exhausting performance requirements that turn what should be casual family time into something resembling a hospitality inspection.

So here's the breakdown of visiting protocols that seem to matter deeply to boomers but leave younger generations wondering why we're all so tired.

1) The formal invitation requirement

Just saying "you should come visit sometime" doesn't count. Neither does a text that says "you're always welcome."

For boomers, a proper visit requires a proper invitation, ideally extended weeks in advance, with specific dates, and followed up with reminders. Bonus points if it comes via phone call rather than text.

Last year, I casually mentioned to my mom that she should drop by when she was in the area. Three months later, she brought it up: "You never actually invited me."

I had invited her. Just not formally enough.

The psychology here makes sense: their generation values ceremony and explicit communication. But when you're juggling work, life, and trying to maintain relationships in a world that moves at internet speed, the idea of scheduling family visits like business meetings feels unnecessarily rigid.

I've learned to just send the calendar invite. It's easier than explaining why I thought "come whenever" actually meant come whenever.

2) You must travel to them

Here's a fun double standard: when boomers visit you, it's a generous gift of their time and presence. When you don't visit them, you're neglecting the relationship.

Never mind that you might have three kids under five, two jobs, and a mortgage that requires every penny you earn. Never mind that they're retired with flexible schedules and disposable income.

The expectation is that children travel to parents. Always.

I watched this play out with my nephew last holiday season. His parents were expected to pack up three small kids, complete with portable beds, formula, toys, and enough supplies for a military expedition, and drive four hours. Meanwhile, his grandparents, who are practically retired and own a comfortable RV, couldn't be bothered to make the trip themselves.

When my nephew's dad finally pushed back, the response was predictable: hurt feelings and accusations of not valuing family.

The irony is thick. The generation that preached self-reliance now expects their adult children to shoulder all the logistical burden of maintaining family connections.

3) Extended stays are non-negotiable

A weekend means Friday through Monday morning at minimum. Anything less suggests you don't actually want them there.

I once suggested my parents visit for Saturday afternoon through Sunday evening, a solid 24 hours of quality time. My mother's response: "Well, if we're not really wanted, we just won't come at all."

It's not about being wanted. It's about the reality that guest hosting is work. There's meal planning, bed preparation, entertainment coordination, and the general energy expenditure of being "on" for days at a time.

Boomers seem to remember hosting as this effortless, joyful experience. But I'm guessing they've forgotten about the years when they were working full-time, raising kids, and trying to keep a household running while also playing gracious host.

Or maybe their parents just didn't visit as often.

4) The house must be inspection-ready

Clean is not enough. The house must be pristine. Magazine-ready. Evidence that you are, in fact, a functional adult who has their life together.

My partner learned this the hard way during her first visit from my parents. She'd cleaned the bathroom, done the dishes, vacuumed, all the normal preparation you'd do for guests.

My mom walked in and immediately started wiping down the kitchen counters.

The message was clear: your standards are insufficient.

I've mentioned this before but this expectation creates so much unnecessary stress. We're already working, managing households, trying to maintain some semblance of work-life balance. Adding "pass military housing inspection" to the pre-visit checklist transforms family time into an anxiety spiral.

And here's the kicker: when we visit them, the house is exactly as lived-in as ours. The standards are apparently one-directional.

5) All meals must be coordinated and formal

Grabbing takeout? Having cereal for breakfast? Eating at different times based on individual schedules?

Absolutely not.

Every meal is an event that requires coordination, table-setting, and everyone sitting down together. Even breakfast. Especially breakfast, actually, because that's apparently when families "really connect."

Last time my parents visited, I suggested we order Thai food one night because I'd been swamped with work and hadn't had time to grocery shop properly. You'd think I'd suggested we eat off the floor.

"We're together so rarely," my mom said. "It would be nice to have a real meal."

As if food that comes in containers is somehow less real than food I stress-cooked while they watched TV in the next room.

The exhausting part isn't the meals themselves: it's the performance of family togetherness that must accompany them. The staging of domestic harmony that requires significantly more emotional labor than just enjoying each other's company.

6) Children must be constantly accessible

Here's where the generational divide really shows up: boomers expect their adult children to be fully present and available for the entire duration of any visit.

Work emails? Those can wait. Deadlines? Not as important as family. Personal time? Selfish.

I work from home, which my parents interpret as "available whenever." During their last visit, my dad was genuinely offended when I excused myself for a video meeting.

"We came all this way to see you," he said.

Yes, and I still have a job that pays my mortgage. The one that allows me to maintain this house you're visiting.

The boomer generation largely worked traditional 9-to-5 jobs with clear boundaries. They don't quite grasp that modern work often means being tethered to laptops and phones, or that freelance schedules don't pause for family visits.

Plus, let's be honest: they weren't exactly switching off their obligations when we visited them as kids. But apparently, that standard doesn't apply in reverse.

7) Entertainment must be provided

It's not enough to open your home and provide a comfortable place to stay. You must also serve as activities director, tour guide, and social coordinator.

When my parents visit, they expect a full itinerary. Where are we going? What are we doing? Why don't we have plans for every single hour?

Meanwhile, when I visit them, the entertainment is… sitting in their living room while they watch the news and occasionally ask about my life.

I came across this video recently that really captured something about these family dynamics: how good parents can create distance without meaning to, often through the very protocols and expectations they think demonstrate love.

I love my parents. I genuinely enjoy spending time with them. But the expectation that I'll transform into a hospitality professional every time they visit, while working full-time and managing my actual life, is draining.

And the guilt when I can't deliver that experience? Even more exhausting.

8) Gratitude must be loudly and repeatedly expressed

This one's subtle but persistent. After any visit, there's an expectation of effusive gratitude, multiple thank-you calls, texts expressing how wonderful it was, and regular references to how much you enjoyed their presence.

One thank-you isn't enough. It must be ongoing, demonstrable proof that you valued their time and effort.

Recently, I read Rudá Iandê's "Laughing in the Face of Chaos," and one line hit me hard: "Their happiness is their responsibility, not yours."

That's the thing about these visiting protocols: they put the emotional burden of everyone's satisfaction entirely on the host. We're responsible for making sure our parents feel welcomed, valued, entertained, and appreciated, while simultaneously managing all the logistics that make visits possible.

It's a system that assumes younger generations have infinite bandwidth, unlimited resources, and no needs of our own.

The bottom line

Look, I get it. These protocols come from a place of love. Boomers grew up in an era when family rituals and formality mattered. When proper hospitality was a sign of respect and care.

But somewhere along the way, the rituals became more important than the relationships themselves.

The exhausting part isn't having family visit. It's the performance requirement: the need to prove through elaborate hosting that we love and value them, rather than just loving and valuing them.

Maybe that's what needs to change. Not the visits themselves, but the expectations we attach to them.

Because at the end of the day, I'd rather have a relaxed weekend with my parents where we order takeout and nobody stress-cleans than a perfectly orchestrated visit where everyone's too exhausted to actually connect.

But that's probably not formal enough.