Part of why I decided to begin blogging again was (is) to find a way to deal with my family’s changing dynamics and relationships. When I met J. I was almost 40 and a mother of two elementary-school-aged children. I didn’t define myself as a “single mom” or “working mom”; I thought of myself as a driven individual, with her own needs, interests and dreams, who just happened to be single, working and a mom. Somehow, some way I also managed to carve out a wee bit of the time to pursue my own interests while balancing motherhood, dating, chores, family, friends and a career.
Fast forward: Almost five years have passed. The kids have grown and I’ve gained not only a loving husband, but a loving extended family through him. I’m enjoying the good moments, and there are many of them, but I worry. I worry about our parents’ health issues, which are becoming more serious as the years go on, about his elderly mom’s needs (and, I’m ashamed to admit, how her needs put us out), about our siblings’ struggles with unemployment/divorce/injury/stress, about what I’m doing (or not doing) to help the kids mature, about taking the next step in my career to make my time away from home more interesting and meaningful…and a whole lot more.
Sometimes I get annoyed that everyone else can’t just “buck up” or leave me/us be. Sometimes I get angry that my wee bit of time gets smaller and smaller. Last night was one of those nights when I got annoyed, then angry, then guilty.
So very guilty because there are many people in our lives who are struggling with really big problems.
I am part of the sandwich generation. Most of the time life’s sweet and comfy like enjoying a good PB&J. But sometimes, ya know, I just end up feeling smooshed.
Are you a sandwicher, too?