November 3, 2010

The Art of Dadness

Oh, I'm such a bad blogger. I've got two posts sitting in draft and October has just been so freaking crazy that I haven't had time to finish them up properly. And trust me, they are totally unreadable without a fair bit of editing. Not to mention quite dated by now.

But here's something I can blog about quickly.

My handsome redhead has recently become obsessed with being a dad. It's his thing. He wears pants with belts and button-down oxfords and takes great pleasure when folks notice and tell him he looks dad-like. He also spends a lot of time asking about the hows and whys of dadness. To wit, the following conversation, which took place in whispers when he was meant to be falling asleep.

"Mom, when I'm a dad, will you be old?"

"Yes." Since I'm nearly there now.

"So, when you're old, will I be a dad?"

"I think you get to decide when to be a dad."

"No. I don't get to decide that."

"Oh? Who does?"

"I think my birthday decides that."

"Okay. So how old do you have to be to be a dad?"


Nodding. "Okay."

"How far away is that?"

"About 81 years."

"How many days is that?"

"Oh, sweetie, that's more math than I can do in my head."

"So it's really far away."

"Yes. But, you know, your dad became a dad for the first time when he was only 32. And your Opa, he was 27 when he became a dad."

"Okay. Then I think I'll be ... 31. Can I be a dad when I'm 31?"

"Yes, sweetie. You can."

And he's gonna be a damn fine dad, too.


  1. I followed your link from your PW comment which appeared just a couple above mine because, well because we are both named Rosemary, LOL. So I read a little of your blog (love the rosemarycoloredglasses, very clever) and then discovered that we are both the same age. This fact I find quite remarkable because the only other Rosemarys I've ever met were at least two generations older than me. At the age of 44 you are my first contemporary Rosemary. Very cool!

  2. Thank you, Rosemary, for making the trek over here. It's really nice to meet you! I love the name Rosemary! I've got to be honest, though - my Rosemary is a pseudonym. I named myself after my blog - isn't that silly? I wrote about why here:

    But I empathize - my real name is not only ethnic and unpronounceable (if you read it first, anyway), but also incredibly uncommon. Though you should know, my son had a friend who's mom was a for-real Rosemary who was also just about our age ... so they do exist!

    I took a peek at your blog, too - what gorgeous kids!

  3. LOL! Too funny. Well at least I know there is another for-real 40-something Rosemary out there. I respect your reasons for keeping your name private.

    And now I have to laugh because if the blog you are referring to was listed under ones I was following, that is not my blog, or my kids. But I agree my friend Wendy does have gorgeous kids. I do too actually, hee hee. They are an 18 yo man-child, 7 yo diva, and 2 yo mama's boy. But I don't have a blog or an au pair. But I'm thinking seriously about both.

    Rosemary (for real)

  4. Well that's what I get for reading your blog that's not really yours after 1:00 a.m. I was wondering why she was posting as Wendy. If you had a blog, though, I'd read it - I'm enjoying just following your comments!

    Rosemary (faking it)

  5. I'm going to subscribe to your blog and if I ever do decide to blog I'll let you know. For now I just post all my pithy musings on facebook.