A day in the life of the "sandwich generation"

From Google:

sand·wich gen·er·a·tion

noun

1. a generation of people, typically in their thirties or forties, responsible for bringing up their own children and for the care of their aging parents.

I am in what is known as "the sandwich generation." There are articles, such as this, that date back over five years about "the sandwich generation."

The Pew Research Center article includes this:
"Sandwich-generation adults are somewhat more likely than other adults to say they are often pressed for time. Among those with a parent age 65 or older and a dependent child, 31% say they always feel rushed even to do the things they have to do. Among other adults, the share saying they are always rushed is smaller (23%)."

Additionally, it states, "Presumably life in the sandwich generation could be a bit stressful. Having an aging parent while still raising or supporting one’s own children presents certain challenges not faced by other adults—caregiving and financial and emotional support to name just a few."

Life in the "sandwich generation" can be stressful and being pressed for time is likely the biggest factor I personally feel. You see, I am among the "sandwich generation." I am in my 40s. I have parents over age 65 and dependent children. Factor in, also, tha tboth of my parents have health issues and you have a whopper here! But, I must say, that it all works out ok. We do well, overall. Life has its ups, downs, struggles, frustrations, and joys. To know we are not entirely unique, helps me feel a little better. Knowing that we are mastering this situation in some ways also helps me feel better. Still, I suspect many of my peers are not entirely immersed in this as we are. I can tell you that my brother technically fits into this generation, but does not experience the same way I do. That's ok. We lead different lives and we do things differently. I think this points to the fact that the "sandwich generation" operates in different ways even among a single family.

As I reflect on the day, I want to share with you a bit what a day in the life of someone who fits the "mold" of the "sandwich generation" looks like.

Each day, I get up and go to work. I work in education. I am a dedicated educator and I work hard for both my students and my own children. I lesson plan, I grade papers, I wash and sometimes even fold laundry. My unique piece here is that I also have Fibromyalgia. So, some days I rest, whether I like it (need it) or not. Some days, I plow through. Others require rest. Over 15 years ago, a doctor gave me permission to nap. So, when I can grab a nap, I do. Many days, though, this is not an option. That makes the days when it is an option make me feel especially lazy. I worry about what my parents and my children think on those days. I try to take time for myself in other ways. Sometimes that means attending an education conference. Sometimes that means catching a movie with my kids. Sometimes that means attending a concert with My Chico or a show with a friend. I don't sit still well, even when my body dictates it. So, I go-go-go. And so, yes, time is an issue. I don't always get the laundry folded. I don't always get papers graded as quickly as I would like. But this blog post is not about Fibromyalgia. This is about my role as a daughter, mother, and human in the "sandwich generation."

Let me share with you my day today. My mom had an important doctor's appointment, so I took the day off from work. I arranged for a sub as soon as I knew about the appointment. Today marked the second day back after two weeks off for Christmas. I worked yesterday. That means I went to school and taught then stayed late to prep. I had to get things ready for my sub today and I needed to get things ready for tomorrow since I would not have any time today to prep. I finally pulled out of the parking lot at about 5:45 p.m. (Side note: three other teachers left after I did. So, if you ever doubt the commitment and time teachers devote to their craft, I urge you to drive by a school late in the day, on the weekend, or on a "break.")

This morning, I got up and drove my kids to school, but I also went into my classroom to finalize prep for today and to catch my sub quickly before the day got into full swing. While I had stopped at Whole Foods on Saturday and submitted an Amazon Prime Pantry order, I still had a couple of grocery items we needed. So, on my way home, I stopped by a grocery store. (Milk is somewhat important, you know.)

I drove my mom and dad to mom's appointment. I was more than a driver. My presence was important. My mom deserved my best. I dressed nicely, I drove carefully, and I stayed engaged throughout her appointment. My initial mental planning had us getting home by 6 p.m. That would allow CD to be dropped off at home and allow me to pick up Miss Hollywood from her Girl Scout obligation. Of course, my mental planning was off by about 90 minutes and thus, we were arriving back home closer to 7:30. I had to think and act quickly. Here's where the "it takes a "village" plays a role. I sent a text and had someone set to pick up Miss Hollywood, but still needed to figure out something for CD. So, I made a phone call and, thankfully, got something set up for him. I am among the blessed, the lucky (whatever you want to call it). I have a village. I have amazing people who help. We help each other, but today, they helped me. They helped me help my parents by helping with my kids.


Also from the Pew Research Center article, "Happiness rates are nearly the same among adults who are not part of the sandwich generation: 28% are very happy, and 51% are pretty happy."

You see, I am sometimes stressed. I am sometimes crunched for time. But, I am happy. I am happy in my career. I am happy as a mother. I am happy as a daughter. I am happy as a friend. I am happy as a human. I am happy. I am grateful. And, at the end of the day, isn't that what it's all about?


As I arrived to pick up my son, all stress and time concerns melted away and I felt genuine happiness.

We aren't perfect. In fact, I am far from perfect. But again, I am perfect in my imperfections. And, I am happy with who I am and what I do. I am thankful for the opportunity to include my parents in my daily life. I am thankful for how much they help me with my children each day. It is give and take. We love each other. We support each other. So, I may be a part of the "sandwich generation," but I'd rather be a sandwich than a buffet. Even the messiest sandwich holds together, albeit sloppy at times. You can't have a sandwich without something on each side. I wouldn't change this for the world right now. So, here we are. A sometimes sloppy, messy sandwich. Grab a napkin. Clean up. And move on. And, thank you to everyone who helps in the role of the napkin. This sandwich appreciates it.

Bring on 2019

If there is one thing 2018 taught me, it is to be unapologetic about lack of time.

So, while I may regret (to some degree) not having written recently, I will not apologize for it. Knowing I wrote as recently as September, I know I have reflected recently enough. Still, I know also that as a year winds down, I tend to stop and reflect while also looking ahead.

So, I am unapologetic, but remain reflective and and looking ahead all the same. I work to invest my time in people and things that fill me. Sometimes I have time to sit down and write. Sometimes, I do not. I hope to make more time for writing, but cannot apologize for not having time before now to write.

2018 hurt.

My dear friend lost her battle with colon cancer at the same time another friend started her battle with colon cancer. And, that hurts. And so, I begin looking back, feeling overly reflective. It began not in 2018, but in 2017. It was my 40th birthday and we gathered to celebrate. Aunt Nini confided that she was in a lot of pain as I brought friends together to celebrate and take photos, and enjoy the time. "If you are in pain, why aren't you at the hospital?" I pleaded, I pondered, I wanted to know. "F**K you," she said as only she could. I knew. How dare I question why she was where she was. We didn't miss time together. I had missed a breakfast date almost ten years earlier because my water had broken. Still, I was apologetic and trying to figure out how to make breakfast happen while in the hospital welcoming my first child into the world three weeks early. That's what we did. That's who we were. How dare I question why she was at my 40th birthday party. We had beaten cancer. Right?!

And yet, here we were.

And, then, less that a year later, I was visiting her diligently in the hospital, at home, in the care center.

2018 hurt.

At the end of June, after a long and fierce battle, cancer won. Cancer won. I had spent Thanksgiving 2017 with her in Las Vegas . I had sat diligently by her bedside in Turlock and Modesto. But, cancer won. She fought long. She fought hard. F**K YOU CANCER! I held her hand and we walked proudly through Ceasar's. She was my friend. She was my sister. She was a huge part of why I am where I am today. She helped get me through my darkest times. She held my hand. She saw me through. She protected me. She guarded me. She was my light at the end of a very dark tunnel. She loved me. She supported me. I am who I am and I am where I am in large part because of her. She gave meme an oasis, safe place.

2018 hurt. A lot.

She never read my blog. This blog. She said she was waiting for the book. I wonder if she was really reading. Still, she said she was waiting for the book. I owe her that. It will come. In time.

2018 hurt.

A very dear college friend is battling the same cancer. One month before Aunt Nini died, my sweet Elizabeth shared her diagnosis. I knew immediately what I needed to do. I was headed for Atlanta.

2018 hurt. And it was full of adventure.

And so the hurt and adventure came together.

Aunt Nini died and Miss Hollywood and I attended her memorial. Then, we hopped a plane to Atlanta. We spent time and it was beautiful and I am thankful.

Adventures for 2018 included baseball games, faires, festivals, and family events. It included travel near and far. 2018 was amazing. CD went to camp with the Boy Scouts for the first time while Miss Hollywood traveled  out of state for the first time. We took time to plan 2019 adventures.  We enjoyed each others' company. We enjoyed the travel. We look ahead. Life is good.

In 2019, we will travel out of state, we will obtain our passports for international travel, and we will journey great places.

Life is good.

As I look back on 2018 and look ahead to 2019 I see one word very clearly: RIVER.

A favorite Garth Brooks song is "The River."

"A dream is like a river
ever-changing as it flows
And a dream is just a vessel
that must follow where it goes..."


And so...I will sail my vessel until the river runs dry....I will journey to greatness. I will take my children on this journey. We will travel upwind and downwind. We will visit new places. We will visit friends and family. We will learn new things and try new things.

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.