Traditional, Club or Open Faced: Which wich are you?

Demographic terminology is a funny thing. I guess I’m kind of on the edge teetering in between Gen X and Gen Y, depending on the definition by the expert of the week. Or I could also be an Echo Boomer.   

But more importantly, (because really, does that matter?), I’m a sandwich. Meaning I’m in the sandwich generation. The definition of someone like this simply means that they are caring for aging parents while supporting their own children, usually younger children that still need cared for.   

Or the easiest way to test if you fit into that demo is if this has ever happened to you: You’re already running late in the morning, your youngest won’t put on her coat to go to daycare and your oldest can’t find that really cool dinosaur he wants to take for show-and-tell. Then you get a call from your mom who said your dad just fell and is on his way to the E.R. And don’t forget about that big presentation at work today. And... 

Yeah, if that sounds familiar, this is for you.   

The sociological experts have broken down this population into three more subgroups; Traditional, Club or Open Faced. Personally, I think they just wanted to have fun with the whole sandwich theme. 

I’m a Club...those in their 30s or 40s with young children and aging parents. I have two young boys and an aging mother who needs care. I’m not sure which one of us are the bacon portion of the club, but I’m in the middle somewhere.   

The number of aging Americans will double by the year 2030 according to the Census Bureau...all the Boomers I suppose. But really, why did we have to label this situation that we’re in? Weren’t there many others before us that cared for loved ones on both ends?   

I think there are a few factors contributing to this. One could be that people are simply living longer and tend to need more care than past generations. Also, a lot of people are waiting longer to have children. So the longer they wait, the older their parents are getting, and the better chance that they’ll be rolling around a stroller and a wheelchair at the mall.   

But really isn’t the point of all this to respectfully raise and care for our loved ones? We have our children to raise and make fit to set free on society someday. But we also have our parents, for better or worse, who we have to occasionally remind that their racist joke or old-time humor, doesn’t really work these days.  

Look, I’m as guilty as the next guy of having the same freak out on my mom that I do on my kids on occasion. Sometimes we get them mixed up...taking care of parents is sometimes similar to taking care of kids and it’s hard to switch gears. Maybe you went to the store to pick up Depends and you came out with Huggies.   

What’s crazy is, there are actually support groups, clubs, books, “coping strategies”, online communities and so forth to help those that are in this pickle (come on, you didn’t think I could pass up that easy one did you?).   

Most days I feel good about being that salty slice of bacon in the middle of the club. The other days, I feel like the funky swiss cheese that I typically immediately pull off of my sandwich. All any of us sandwichers can do is hope and try for more bacon and less swiss. Would love to hear which wich you are.  

2.5 Kids

It’s the American dream right? Marriage, 2.5 kids, house with a picket fence and walk in-closet? I gotta say, I’ve been pretty lucky...I’ve been able to achieve all of that. Yes, even the 2.5 kids. 

So three months ago, it was me and my wife, 2-year-old twin boys and our little, slow and getting-older-by-the-day basset/beagle mix, Heidi. Since then, we added our 1/2 child who also happens to be a golden retriever, Renzi. 

I know many people treat their dogs like their children and even use them as a substitute at times, but I didn’t know what I was getting into when committing to adopt this loyal and lovable pooch. 

Due to extenuating circumstances, Renzi’s original mom had to give him up. Long story short, friend of a friend situation, we’re approached with the idea. Oh, another dog? With two toddlers and a dog already? Sure, why not, how hard can it be. 

At a spry 18 months old, Renzi fit right into our toddlers-rule-our-house lifestyle. We used to have to worry about every little thing on the floor or in reaching distance when the boys started to crawl and then walk, mainly for safety reasons of course. We were just getting used to being able to set things on an end table again. 

That all went away. We found out pretty quickly that Renzi eats and chews everything. You name it, he’s had it in his mouth. On Sunday, he was chewing a bottle cap. I’m sure he would have finished the job if I didn’t stop him. 

This dog eats more paper than the dog on the Abitibi paper recycling dumpsters. I’m not even going to go into detail about how I know that since I rarely see him actually eat it. 

The boys get along with him fairly well, except that Renzi doesn’t realize that he’s as big as a small horse. He has knocked the boys over on numerous occasions and they immediately point the finger of blame waiting for us to dish out the punishment like they would receive if one of them did it. And you know it’s bad when I hear the boys say “No Renzi!” several times throughout the day. Even they know what he’s not supposed to be doing. 

Even with all of this destruction and child-like behavior, Renzi has quickly become a very much loved member of the family. The boys will have a dog to grow up with, we finally have a dog that can get along with other dogs and he’s so loyal that he would probably jump in front of train for me. A few weeks ago he even bit me as we were playing and was so upset about it he kept checking all night, to make sure, (in his own little way), that I was OK. 

And while I’m sure my wife would still want another child—a girl perhaps—I’m very happy with the 2.5 we have now. It’s the dream right?