Being the “Older Dad” (part 1 of probably a lot of similar entries in the future…)

Making a short entry today–claiming Birthday Privilege for being a little lazy for one day. Yes, my birthday was yesterday, but I think I can carry the privilege forward one day.

Do I regret being a new dad at 50?

Not at all.

Jack and his old man.

There will certainly be some challenges in years ahead, but hopefully I can prepare for them ahead of time and make sure that I am physically fit enough for them. That’s something I think I’d be doing anyway, but knowing that Jack will only be getting more active as time goes on is a good bit of impetus for me to make sure I’m able to keep up with him for a while.

I think the only problem I have with being an “older dad” is this scenario…

I’m in a store or some other public space–just Jack and myself–and someone coos over the boy. This happens a lot. Then they compliment me on having such a fine grandson.

That’s not the problem, really. I know what I can look like sometimes. I started sprouting gray hairs in my teens, and by my 30s I was dying my hair every now and then. These days, if I don’t keep up on the ol’ hair dye, I can look awful grizzled. This is particularly true around Christmas time as I stop dying my hair in October so I can play Santa later in the year.

So, yeah.., I get why people might think Jack is my grandson. There are a lot of people my age who are grandparents. What gets me, though, is 1) the unwillingness to believe me when I say no, I’m his dad, and 2) that one lady who gave me a look of disapproval.

First, who would lie about something like that? I shouldn’t have to convince people I’m telling the truth. I know quite a few people my age with young children and even babies. It’s 2017 and the old models really don’t apply any longer. And second, what’s with the disapproval? Screw you, lady. 2017.

(I was a little amused last night by a woman who, upon seeing and cooing over Jack, kept referring to me as “poppa” which I thought was a nice sidestep. I usually hear “poppa” as a name for a grandfather, but not exclusively so. Folks from previous generations used the term “poppa” for a father more often. I thought it clever that she was hedging her bets with a more vague nomenclature as it applied to myself.)

In any case, Jack came along when Jack came along. Had it been otherwise, he wouldn’t have been Jack… and I love Jack.

So because of Jack, I’m more than happy to be an “older dad.” Deleriously so. As the years roll on, I’m sure to write about this topic more–hopefully in a more helpful fashion to other older dads.

Poppa out.

Cheers!

–John

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About jdteehan

John is a proud geek and nerd, a publisher, a freelancer, and a new dad. He's into books, gaming, and music. He's a good cook, a passing musician and artist, and terrible fisherman. The biggest thing in his life right now is being a new dad and he has started a blog all about that. Visit Dearjackrabbit.com for more on that. Also visit Merryblacksmith.com for word on publishing projects.
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