Holding It All Together (Barely): Life in the Midlife Sandwich Zone

They call it the “sandwich generation,” but I'd like to have a word with whoever chose that name! Sandwiches are delicious. Sandwiches are comforting. Sandwiches do not involve caregiving for both your children and your aging parents while trying to hold down a job, a household, and your rapidly unraveling sense of calm.

I’m smack in the middle of that sandwich, and let me tell you, it’s less Croque Monsieur and more “soggy PB&J that someone sat on.”

My mom has dementia. Watching her slip away in pieces has been one of the most heartbreaking, disorienting experiences of my life. She’s still here. And yet, she’s not fully here. I help with her care, which is hard enough. But I’m also supporting my dad, who has been her main caregiver. And when I say caregiver, I mean 24/7 lifeline. It’s emotionally and physically exhausting, and it’s taken a toll on him that no one really talks about. So, I step in. For her. For him. For all of us.

And while I’m trying to navigate memory loss, medical appointments, and the grief of watching someone I love fade in slow motion… I also have kids. Teenagers, to be precise. Which means a lot of emotional rollercoasters, boundary-setting, late-night chats, and the occasional heart-to-heart over “why do I even need to learn math if AI is going to take over anyway?”

Also… I’m in Midlife Myself, Thanks for Asking!

As if juggling aging parents and unpredictable teenagers wasn’t enough, let’s not forget: I’m also in midlife. Right smack in the middle of it. Which means my body and brain are doing their own mysterious dance called perimenopause, and - no surprise to anyone here - it’s not helping.

Hot flashes? Check.
Mood swings? Double check.
Joint pain? Some mornings I wake up feeling like I wrestled a bear in my sleep (without the fun story to go with it!).
Sleep? I remember her fondly.

The irony is almost funny. Almost. While I’m trying to be the steady anchor for everyone else, I’m also managing hormone shifts, unpredictable periods, and a general sense that my emotions are always hovering about three inches below the surface, ready to leap out at the most inconvenient time. Like in the grocery store. Or better yet, during a staff meeting.

Midlife is this bizarre chapter where you’re expected to be the most competent, responsible, and “together” version of yourself, while simultaneously navigating a whole new hormonal operating system with zero user manual. So no, it’s not just that I’m tired from caregiving. Or parenting. Or working. I’m also just tired in my bones. In my brain. In my ovaries.

And it’s okay to say that out loud.

Some days I feel like I’m doing a decent job. Other days I cry in the car. I lose my patience. I forget things. I eat popcorn for dinner. I scroll Instagram for mental escape. And sometimes, when the stars align and the moon is in retrograde, I laugh. Hard. Because if I don’t, I’ll cry harder.

If you’re here too, in the thick of it: I see you. You are not alone. You are doing impossible things with a full heart and an empty cup.

So here’s to the overextended and overwhelmed. The ones holding it together with dry shampoo, caffeine, and stubborn love. We may be squished in this sandwich season, but we are strong. (And someday, we’ll miss it. Just… not today.)

And in the meantime, here are a few ways to keep your own sanity somewhat intact:

• Claim little pockets of peace. Even ten minutes with your coffee, in silence, before the day starts can feel like a gift. Don’t wait for a full hour to appear. Take what you can get, when you can get it!

• Say yes to help. Whether it’s a sibling offering support, a friend dropping off a meal, or a teenager doing laundry (imperfectly), take the help. Perfection is not the goal, survival is.

• Talk to people who get it. Midlife can be lonely. Seek out even one friend or online support group where you don’t have to explain yourself or sugarcoat the hard stuff.

• Laugh whenever possible. Humor is not just a coping mechanism, it’s medicine. Find the ridiculous, the absurd, the relatable memes, and let yourself giggle at the chaos.

• Give yourself ridiculous amounts of grace. You’re not supposed to have this all figured out. Some days you’ll forget a birthday or cry over a dropped Tupperware lid. That’s okay. You’re doing enough.

• Hold onto the good. Remember the love, laughter, and support your parents/caregivers gave you through the years. Even as roles shift and memories fade, those pieces of who they were, and still are, matter. Let them anchor you when things feel heavy.

Remember: You’re NOT failing. You’re just living a very full, very real life. And that counts for more than you know.