Join the ranks of Keillor, Quaid, Jagger and -- Janszen?

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="This isn't Jeff, but he has actually done this job. Say "Thank you," America."][/caption]

My co-worker Jeff Janszen is literally the only other recycled dad I know personally, so naturally I asked him for his family stats so I could add him to the Recycled Dad Index. He agreed because he is a cool guy and not afraid of anything (see photo caption above).

Now the index has four celebrities and two regular guys. I'll be adding more famous people shortly. But you, too, ordinary dad, can get on the index. You just have to be a father of at least two children -- although getting a high score is another matter.

Your recycledness score represents the biggest age gap (in years) between two consecutive children in your family. If you are a typical recycled dad, this is the gap between the youngest child of your first marriage and the first child of your second marriage. In theory, the wider that gap, the more opportunity there has been for you to get 'rusty' on how to raise a child from the beginning. (I admit that 'recycledness' is not really the best term for this attribute. 'Rustiness' is actually closer to the mark. Any other ideas?)

Your virility score is simply the age you were when your youngest child was born (you stud!).

Jeff is at the bottom of this short list in terms of recycledness, with a 'generation gap' between kids of 12.86 years. But at least he outranks me for virility: He was a respectable 44.87 years old when his twin son and daughter were born.

Let's have some fun with this, dads! If you want to get on the index, just leave a comment or e-mail me.

Recycled Dad Index (Prototype)

UPDATE: Still can't put script in WordPress.com, but if you click here or click the chart, it will open the interactive version of the chart in Google Spreadsheets.

Still experimenting with different visualization tools, but here is a glimpse of what I'm trying to do:

[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="Click the image to go to the interactive version of this chart"][/caption]

For each celebrity dad on the list (and me), I've plugged in the dad's date of birth and the date of birth of each of his children. I use the data to calculate and display each dad's recycledness score (the widest gap, in years, between two of his children) and, just for fun, his virility score (the gap, in years, between his age and his youngest child's age). The recycledness bar is green, of course; the virility bar is the color of a pharmaceutical that may have a connection to some of these statistics.

If I could use javascript here, you'd be able to fly over the bars to see the actual values. FYI, Keillor's recycledness score is 28.60, and Morrison's virility score is 64.37.

My vision is to enable regular guys to enter similar data on themselves into a calculator in order to  see how they would rank on this index. (For these two scores, most of us can do the math in our heads -- and probably have -- but eventually I'd like to introduce more data and other kinds of scores.)

This prototype is in Google Spreadsheets, but I'm also getting familiar with Zoho Creator. Somehow I need to enable new entries via a web form. Ideas welcome and appreciated.

Unafraid of technology

I'm continually amazed at how a modern 5-year-old takes technology in stride.

Driving Jacob home from preschool recently, I turned on the Pandora music streaming app on my iPhone and piped the music through my car radio, as I do routinely. Jacob heard a few bars of the rap song that was playing and said, in a panic, "Push the thumb-up button! Push the thumb-up button! I like this one!"

Nostalgia engine

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="374" caption="(Thanks to iNintendo.net for the screen shot)"][/caption]

Back in 2004 (I think), I bought a Nintendo 64 game system for $20 at GameStop so I could play it with Charlie and Thomas during their visits. It was the same kind of system they had played on when they were young kids,  so we all experienced some nostalgia as we played again -- some of us more than others, I'm sure.

A few months ago, I introduced Jacob (5) to the N64. He is now capable of beating me, and his mom, and his grandparents, and all the computer players, in MarioKart, not always but more often than we would like. Angela saw how much he enjoyed MarioKart, so she ordered two more games, one of which is the classic Super Mario 64. The learning curve of that game is a little steep, but Jacob is picking it up quickly, thanks in part to the vast supply of YouTube videos of people playing the game extremely well.

Jacob shows the same talent and patience for learning these N64 games that Thomas had when he was little -- which is saying a lot -- and he shows the same kind of excitement in learning the 'maps' and how things behave in these alternate universes.

Playing the games with any of my kids brings back memories, but seeing glimpses of the older sons in the youngest one is what really takes me back.

Nothing is what happened

As promised, the results of the Craigslist experiment:

Nothing.

Life goes on, happily!

Looking for locals

A year and a half ago, I started reaching out online to all recycled dads around the world via this blog. But that was a pretty illogical way to start, considering that almost no one knows what a recycled dad is, or even that the term exists. (I literally cannot think of any search string other than "recycled dad" or my name that would reliably bring this blog up on page 1 of a search result.)

So I'm trying what I should have tried in the first place: I'm putting an ad on Bay Area craigslist to see if any other recycled dads in in the area want to hang out. Yes, in person.

I'll post about what happens, even if it's nothing.

Who will learn more - you or Cameron?

It's been a long time since I posted. But I've come out of hibernation for a good reason: to publicize this opportunity for other "old new dads" to help a marketing student in the U.K. with his research by sharing their insights.

If you are a recycled dad, please download this questionnaire, complete it, and e-mail it to cameronblack19@googlemail.com . I found the questions very thought-provoking; you probably will, too.

Here is the message the researcher sent me via my blog:

My name is Cameron Black. I am a  first year student at Bournemouth University, England and am currently studying Advertising. As part of a consumer psychology unit, we are doing a project on a new market segment that is yet to be explored by a high street retailer i.e old new dads. The main aim of our project is to discover what new products might appeal to men who have become Dads later on in life and what would help them to bond better with their children.

If you have any suggestions or any information regarding a product that you think might be successful it would be much appreciated. I would also be interested to hear about your experience of becoming a older or recycled father and what the positives from that experience.

"..."

I'm a lot less uptight about the words I use around Jacob than I was 'a generation ago' with Charlie and Thomas.

Today, as I was putting Jacob in his car seat:

Jacob: "Ow!"

Me: "I'm sorry. Did I crush your nuts?"

Jacob (laughing): "No, you didn't crush my nuts! How did you know I had nuts?"

Angela and me (laughing): "..."

Jacob: "How did you know I had nuts in my belly?"

Angela and me (laughing uncontrollably): "..."

Good guess!

Background item 1: Ever since Charlie and Thomas were in elementary school, I've referred to the indirect (often scenic) driving route as "the fun way." I've continued this habit with Jacob.

Background item 2: Jacob recognizes many words on sight, including the names of familiar streets on signs. As we drive around, he will call them out ("Hey, that says 'Dublin Boulevard!'").

Two nights ago, on the way home from preschool, Jacob requested "the fun way," referring to a specific route that we often take. I said it was too late -- we were already in the turn lane to go the normal way, but we could go a *different* fun way by going straight at the next intersection. As we approached that intersection, he spotted a small green sign in the median that read "Finnian Wy." He said, "Hey, that says "fun way!!"

A noisy life

I'm writing this from the place I go every Tuesday evening with my 4-year-old, Jacob. It has multiple playrooms for him, with inflatable 'bouncy houses' and slides, foam pits, riding toys and a great crew of employees who supervise the kids and do games and crafts with them. We get dinner here -- they have great pizza. For me, there is also wi-fi and a Starbucks counter (or I can get a beer). It is ideal.

Except that it is so loud in here.

I don't mind the kids yelling -- or even crying -- but there are these giant pumps that keep the inflatables inflated and emit a constant, loud, dull whir. It's hard to have a conversation with the people I run into here, let alone get on the phone with someone. And that is a shame because this would be a great time to catch up with my other two sons.

Connecting with either of my older sons when we're both available is only half the battle. The other half is finding a place where I can actually hear them.

Sometimes I try to talk to #1 son Charlie or #2 son Thomas while I'm on my commute home -- but if I'm taking the train, forget it -- it's too loud on the train and on the platform. So whenever I drive, I try to reach them (using a hands-free kit, of course). But I almost always have errands on the way. In stores. Where it's loud. So I have to hang up before we're really done.

Plus, my hands-free kit (which I installed myself) has an annoying hum that I can suppress only by putting my hand over one end of the kit. Is it still hands-free if I have to do that?

Calling them from home is not an option before Jacob is in bed for the night. And by the time he crashes, I'm ready to do the same!

Has life always been this loud during every waking hour?

An unprecedented toileting experience

I thought I had been through every kind of toilet emergency, but today my four-year-old sprung a new one on me:

He says, "I have to go pee right now or I'm going to wet my pants,"  and the only available toilet is the one I'm on (and actively using).

Two men I greatly admire (and not just because they are my sons)

This post -- the first in a long time -- is not an exploration of the blessings and challenges of recycled fatherhood. It is just shameless gloating. This month, my first and second sons both landed excellent jobs.

To say that I place a high value on my sons' autonomy would be an understatement, but I'm not just relieved that they have jobs. I'm excited about the kinds of work they will be doing.

Charlie, a recent UCLA grad and a professional musician, started this week as a specialist at the Apple store in Santa Monica. The job has great synergy with his musicianship (in addition to playing bass, he composes and performs electronic music on a MacBook). He called me tonight with a positive report about his first day on the floor.

Thomas, a freshman (political science major) at UCSD, will be a resident assistant (RA) at the university beginning next year. He is the right man for the job, compulsive about helping people and brilliantly inventive in figuring out how best to do it -- qualities he has demonstrated as a student council member at UCSD's Warren College and, previously, as ASB president at his high school. I see lots more leadership in his future.

No pearl of wisdom, no punch line. I just admire these two young men so much, and I want those who come across this blog to know about it.

Still here

Twenty-one on none

Confession: I still get a kick out of "Bears on Wheels" by the Berenstains.

It's one of the first books my parents read to me when I was little.

I also introduced it to Charlie and Thomas when they were little, and it stuck with us. Even today, when I'm with my 'big guys' and we see people on bicycles, it always occurs to one of us to blurt out how many people on how many wheels there are (example: "Three on six").

Recently, it occurred to me that I'd like to share this classic with my preschooler, Jacob. I ordered it from ThriftBooks (always my first resort for buying books online), and it was shipped to my office.

I waited anxiously for the end of the workday, anticipating my son's giggles at the pictures and narrative of bears falling onto and off of various wheeled things.

Then I started second-guessing my anticipation. Was I being too optimistic? What if Jacob didn't like the book the way I did? Would I be upset? Why did I want Jacob to have the same kind of experiences his older brothers had? Was this about him or about me and my nostalgia?

Sheesh. It's just a book.

Anyway, much to my delight, Jacob found "Bears on Wheels" very entertaining and soon began requesting it at bedtime.

A couple of weeks ago, Jacob and I were on a walk and saw two bicyclists pedaling by.

I said, "Two on four."

He said, "No, it's not two on four." (He disagrees with things he doesn't understand. Don't we all?)

I explained: "It's two guys on four wheels."

"Oh, it is?"

Then we went into the math. "It's two wheels on one bike and two wheels on the other bike. Two plus two is ..."

"Four!" He got it.

Thanks to Stan and Jan Berenstain, I can reinforce simple addition with my son (and eventually  multiplication by two)  every time someone goes by on a bicycle.

If you have never read the book, you probably won't understand the title of this post, "Twenty-one on none." But I won't give it away. It's best that you discover it on the printed page, as my sons and I have.

What literary gems from your childhood have you shared with your kids?

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="124" caption="It's Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs. The theme is "Books.""][/caption]

Been there, done that, so what?

People I meet at my son's preschool are sometimes surprised to learn that Jacob has two adult half-brothers. When I told one of the dads, he said, with hints of awe and envy, "So you've already done the whole thing -- this is easy for you."

He and I both know that it never gets "easy" no matter how many kids you have. As we talked, it became clear that he was talking about confidence more than competence.

Like most recycled dads, I am more confident and less anxious as a parent this time. But let's face it: I don't really have any special advantage over the average parent of multiple children.

The last time I had a child Jacob's age was 15 years ago. Any parent with more recent experience with a preschooler has an advantage over me.

I guess there may be  special insights I've gained from seeing my older sons grow all the way to adulthood, but I think the confidence and ease that I feel are mostly 'conjured' -- the result of feeling that I have 'been there, done that.' It's the parenting equivalent of Dumbo's magic feather.

Fafa faa fa, fa fafa faa fa

When I've got nothing to say,
my lips are sealed.
Say something once,
why say it again?

But there are lots of great
Dad Bloggers (24 of them so far)
who do have something to say
on this excellent Fatherhood Friday.

[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="124" caption="It's Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs. The theme is "End of Summer, Start of Fall.""][/caption]

Not as easily spooked anymore

[caption id="" align="alignleft" width="124" caption="It's Fatherhood Friday at Dad Blogs. The theme is "End of Summer, Start of Fall.""][/caption]

This is that delightful time of year when I have to poke my head inside each store to check for scary things before I bring my young son inside.

Last October, I took Jacob (then 2½ years old) into a craft supply store and walked him past a full-size ghost figure that I was sure he wouldn't notice. But the ghost had a motion sensor, and as we came alongside it, the thing started moving and emitting an evil laugh. Jacob screamed in horror and clung to me.

I was slow to learn my lesson. About a week later, I was out with Jacob again and realized I needed something from Party City. I hastily pushed the door open and led my son by the hand into the store, where we found ourselves face to face with a large 'bargain bin' full of 4-foot-tall Grim Reapers. He got a look of panic on his face, and we both high-tailed it for the safety of the sidewalk.

I've never been too fond of scary stuff, for emotional and spiritual reasons. When my first two sons were little, I actually took a pretty hard stand on Halloween. Our family distanced itself from the H word and from the 'spooky' activities that tend to mark the day. If my sons wore costumes on or around Oct. 31, it was to participate in a church event (typically called a harvest festival) where scary costumes were out of the question.

I still take spiritual matters very seriously, I still think church harvest festivals are way better than trick-or-treating, and of course I make an effort to keep Jacob from seeing the 'horrific' side of Halloween. But I'm a mellower dad than I used to be. For example, I'm not keeping my son out of the preschool's Halloween parade simply because they call it a Halloween parade. Labeling an event with the H word does not make it a demonic ritual, just as calling an event a "Christmas party" does not make it a religious observance. It's what happens at the event that determines what it is. And everything this preschool does, it does with extreme sensitivity to the kids' emotional comfort. I'm not afraid.

I don't know if it's because my belief system has evolved or simply because I'm older and wiser now, but I just don't get wrapped around the axle about names and labels -- including "Halloween" -- anymore.

Anyone have something to share on the innocence or the evils of All Hallows' Eve?

We are a Microtrend. I did not know that.

Did you know that the phenomenon of older guys becoming fathers is a Microtrend?

Microtrends: The Small Forces Behind Tomorrow's Big Changes, includes a chapter on recycled dads -- or, as the authors put it, "Old New Dads." Those authors, Mark Penn and Kinney Zalesne, were kind enough to 'adapt' the chapter into a Babble.com article that seems to explain everything about us in fewer than 1,200 words.

So if you're cheap and lazy, just read the article rather than hunting down the book or buying it online.

If you are cheap and ridiculously lazy, read my <400-word summary of the article.

If you encounter something (in the article or this post) that you strongly agree or disagree with, please feel free to leave a comment.

My summary:


There has been an explosion in the number of men ages 40 to 44 who are fathering children. That's represented by the solid line in this graphic:



Reasons there are more "Old New Dads":

• More older women are having children.


• The divorce rate continues to increase.


• Men tend to marry soon after divorce, and to marry younger women the next time.


• There is "a combination of biology and success" that makes it feasible and appealing for older men to have children.

Implications (negative)

• "Old New Dads" have trouble keeping up with their kids physically.


• "Old New Dads" have fewer years with their kids.


• "Old New Dads need to work longer, and retire later, in order to pay for college tuition and other expenses of child rearing later in life."

Implications (positive)

• "Old New Dads" dads are more relaxed, satisfied and 'engaged' in their roles as parents.


• "Old New Dads" experience "the joys of family life" in a period that might otherwise be less meaningful for some men.


• "Old New Dads" are a strong consumer segment and have more resources to share with their families.

"Old New Dads" have hardly been studied, even though "in 2001, the number of children born to fathers over 40 was practically equal to the number of children born to mothers under 19."

(The article suggests) the children of "Old New Dads" gain as much from having more mature role models as they lose by having less physically active fathers.

In the final paragraphs: heavy thoughts about "our aging-parent support system," the political clout of "Old New Dads," and the notion that these dads disrupt traditional voting patterns by having the values and priorities of men 20 years younger.

Pet names for our adult children?

I still call my 21-year-old son by the pet name his mom and I gave him when he was an infant. He doesn't seem to mind, as long as it's only among family.

I'm sure other parents do this to their adult children, but why do we do it? Are we nostalgic for when they were little?

What a preschooler considers a thrill ride

I spent Sunday afternoon with my 3.5-year-old, Jacob, at a theme park where we have season passes. When it's just me and him, I can't do roller coasters -- we just do the kid stuff together. On top of that, he's still afraid of the most exciting kid rides, so Sunday was a potentially dull day for me. But as it turned out, I really enjoyed going Jacob's speed. It was fun just watching him have fun.

Jacob will eventually warm up to things like the Road Runner Express,

and then Cobra, 

and someday Medusa  .

I know from my experiences with my older boys that each stage is fun in its own way. Watching a child overcome his fear and try something new is actually one of the most exciting things about parenting.

Right now, I'm just enjoying that fleeting season of life when all it takes to 'thrill' Jacob is to put him in a miniature safari jeep that does a lap around a tortoise enclosure at 1 mph.