I had a rough night last night.
I was tired - maybe I’d even go so far as to say exhausted - but I couldn’t sleep.
Partner snoring.
Kids in and out of the bathroom.
Every time they switched the light on, it shone right on my face.
And still, I wouldn’t shut the bedroom door.
Because what if something happens in the night?
That seems to be the sentence constantly running through my brain at the moment.
In case something happens.
In case someone needs me.
In case one of the kids calls out.
In case one of the dogs is poorly.
In case a parent rings.
In case I miss something.
In case, in case, in case.
Honestly, it is exhausting being the emergency contact for absolutely everything, including imaginary problems that have not even happened yet.
The dog sandwich situation
To make the night even more peaceful and restorative, I was also the filling in a dog sandwich.
Yes. A dog either side of me.
Both nestled right into me, giving off heat like two hot water bottles with emotional needs.
I could not turn over.
I could not get comfortable.
I could not move without disturbing someone.
Could I have moved them?
Of course.
Did I?
Of course not.
Because Chewie is getting older now, and my brain immediately starts whispering things like, “There might not be many cuddles left.”
And Rosie is younger but anxious, so I wanted her to feel safe.
So there I was.
Awake.
Uncomfortable.
Overheated.
Pinned in place by love, guilt and two small furry radiators.
And somewhere around stupid o’clock, I thought:
This is basically the sandwich generation, isn’t it?
Except it is not really about the dogs
The phrase “sandwich generation” usually means people who are caring for, supporting or worrying about both younger and older generations at the same time.
Children on one side.
Parents, grandparents or older relatives on the other.
And you in the middle, trying to hold the whole thing together while also remembering whether you have eaten lunch.
But in real life, it does not always look like some neat official definition.
It looks like leaving the bedroom door open.
It looks like sleeping lightly because someone might need you.
It looks like answering messages while making tea.
It looks like remembering appointments that are not yours.
It looks like checking in, sorting out, listening out, worrying ahead and mentally preparing for problems that may or may not happen.
It looks like being needed from every direction and somehow still feeling guilty that you are not doing enough.
The “in case something happens” years
I think that is the bit nobody really warns you about.
The constant low-level alertness.
You are not always actively doing something.
Sometimes you are just carrying the possibility that something may need doing.
And that sounds small until you realise you have been carrying it all day.
All week.
For years.
The school messages.
The family WhatsApps.
The appointments.
The prescriptions.
The forms.
The worries.
The lifts.
The “can you just” requests.
The quiet noticing when someone does not seem quite right.
And if you are a woman in midlife, there is a good chance a lot of that noticing falls to you.
Not always because anyone is being cruel.
Sometimes simply because you are the one who has always noticed.
Which is lovely.
Until it is absolutely not lovely.
When everyone assumes you know where everything is
There is a particular kind of tiredness that comes from being the default person.
The one who knows where the PE kit is.
The one who knows which parent needs checking on.
The one who remembers the birthday.
The one who notices the milk is nearly gone.
The one who knows there is a form due, a prescription to collect, a parcel to return, a school email to answer and a family situation quietly brewing in the background.
And then someone asks where their charger is.
And that, apparently, is the moment your soul briefly leaves your body.
Because it is never just the charger.
It is the charger on top of the 97 other things already open in your brain.
Honestly, if midlife had a sound, I think it would be someone shouting “Mum?” from another room while you are already doing three things.
Parenting does not get lighter, it just changes shape
People talk a lot about the exhaustion of parenting babies and toddlers.
And yes, that stage is brutal.
But older children, teenagers and young adults still take up a huge amount of emotional space.
They might not need you to tie their shoes anymore, but they still need lifts, advice, money, food, patience, emotional support and the occasional gentle reminder that plates do not magically transport themselves from bedrooms to kitchens.
They need you differently.
Sometimes more quietly.
Sometimes more intensely.
Sometimes at the exact moment you were about to sit down.
And at the same time, older relatives may start needing more too.
A phone call here.
A hospital appointment there.
A conversation about medication.
A worry about a fall.
A bit of shopping.
A form.
A lift.
A “while you’re there, could you just...”
And suddenly, you are parenting forwards and backwards.
Which sounds like a circus skill, but feels more like standing in the middle of a roundabout with a clipboard.
No wonder we are all so tired
Sometimes I think we are too quick to say, “I’m just tired.”
As if tired is a personal failing.
As if we should be managing it better.
As if one early night and a glass of water will sort out the fact that we are carrying several people’s needs, emotions, schedules and potential emergencies in our heads at all times.
It is not just tired.
It is being on call.
It is being needed.
It is being responsible.
It is being the one who thinks ahead because if you do not, something might get missed.
It is loving people so much that you cannot fully switch off.
And it is also, if we are being honest, occasionally wanting everyone to stop needing things for one single minute.
Both can be true.
You can love them deeply and still want to hide in the car with a coffee.
And then hormones join the meeting
Because apparently midlife looked at all of this and thought, “Do you know what would make this more interesting? Poor sleep and a questionable internal thermostat.”
Perimenopause and menopause can arrive right in the middle of the years when everyone seems to need you most.
So now you are not only caring, parenting, organising, remembering and worrying.
You might also be hot.
Awake at 3am.
Foggy.
Irritable.
Anxious.
Randomly furious at a cupboard door.
Wondering why you walked into a room.
And deeply suspicious of anyone who says “calm down”.
It is a lot.
It is more than a lot.
It is a full-time emotional admin department with unreliable sleep and no annual leave.
Why Not Today starts to feel less like a joke
This is why Not Today hits differently in midlife.
It is not just a funny slogan.
It is a boundary.
It is a warning.
It is a small cotton-based announcement that your capacity is currently unavailable.
Not today, because I have already done enough.
Not today, because I slept badly.
Not today, because I am already carrying six people’s emotional weather reports.
Not today, because my patience left the building somewhere between the bathroom light and the second dog pressing its spine into my leg.
Not today, because I am allowed to have limits.
And honestly?
Sometimes a t-shirt saying it for you is a public service.
The sandwich generation does not need more guilt
There is a lot of talk about self-care, and yes, looking after yourself matters.
But I also think women in this stage of life are tired of being given another thing to do.
Have a bath.
Go for a walk.
Drink more water.
Journal.
Meditate.
Do yoga.
Wake up earlier.
Create boundaries.
Meal prep.
Rest.
All lovely.
All sensible.
All slightly irritating when you are already stretched so thin you are considering whether standing alone in the utility room counts as a retreat.
Maybe what we need first is not another self-improvement task.
Maybe we just need to admit:
This is hard.
This stage of life is heavy.
Funny, loving, full, meaningful, ridiculous, yes.
But heavy.
And it is okay to say that.
The tiny rebellion of being honest
I think that is what I like about mood-led clothes and gifts.
They are not fixing the problem.
A hoodie cannot take someone to an appointment for you.
A mug cannot reduce the family WhatsApp notifications.
A t-shirt cannot magically make everyone find their own belongings.
More’s the pity.
But they can give you a tiny moment of honesty.
A little laugh.
A feeling of, “Yes. That. Exactly that.”
And sometimes that is enough to make the day feel a bit less lonely.
Because if you are wearing Not In The Mood, chances are another woman somewhere is reading it and thinking, “Same.”
For the women in the middle
So if you are in the sandwich generation, whether you call it that or not, I see you.
If you are parenting, caring, checking in, remembering, worrying, listening out and sleeping lightly in case something happens, I see you.
If you are exhausted but still making jokes because the alternative is becoming feral, I see you.
If you are being used as a human search engine for missing socks, appointment times, family birthdays and everyone’s emotional wellbeing, I see you.
And if you are currently trapped between love, guilt, responsibility and a dog that refuses to move?
Solidarity.
Some days, the most honest thing you can say is:
Not today.
And we fully support that.
Clothes and gifts for women who are carrying a lot
At Not In The Mood, we make clothing and gifts for women who are tired, busy, overstimulated and done overexplaining themselves.
Our pieces are made for real life - school runs, work days, family chaos, caring responsibilities, low-patience mornings, reheated coffee and the days when your outfit needs to do the talking.
Explore the collections:
Not Today
For the days when everyone wants something and you have absolutely nothing left to give.
Not In The Mood
For the woman whose face got there first.
I Said What I Said
For when the boundary has already been explained.
Shop slogan clothing for women
FAQs about the sandwich generation
What is the sandwich generation?
The sandwich generation refers to people who are supporting both younger and older generations at the same time. This might mean raising children while also helping ageing parents, grandparents or older relatives.
Why is the sandwich generation so exhausted?
Many people in the sandwich generation carry a constant mental load. They may be parenting, caring, working, organising appointments, remembering family admin and worrying about several people at once.
Is sandwich generation burnout real?
Yes. Even when care is not full-time, the emotional load, responsibility and constant alertness can become exhausting. It can feel like being needed from every direction with very little space to switch off.
Why are women often affected by the sandwich generation?
Women often take on a large share of family organising, emotional support and caring responsibilities. This can make midlife especially intense when children, parents, work and personal health all need attention at the same time.
What helps when you feel overwhelmed in the sandwich generation?
Shared responsibility, clearer boundaries, honest conversations and practical support can all help. So can admitting that it is hard, lowering impossible expectations and finding small moments of humour where you can.
Are you in the sandwich generation too? Leave a comment below...
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