Having my first child at 52

Who’s Your Daddy? Part Five

Lost in a world of baby toys, diapers and a much-younger wife, while trying to retain my sanity.

May 24, 2013 • Eric Davis

So by now I’ve decided that tired is the new black. I stumble through life half-conscious, thinking only about the smile on my daughter’s face that greets me every morning and afternoon.

She’s found her feet. They’re right there at the end of her legs. She is constantly amazed that they’re there. And it is a source of never-ending delight for my wife and I.

Speaking of my wife, she deserves a medal. She handles the crying, the feeding and the pooping with amazing class and style. And that’s just me—the baby is twice as tough. And three times as loud. Now that’s saying something.

Alyson Grace is going to be a great music lover. We took her out to see bands a few times this month—with her wearing safety headphones, of course. They’re hot pink and twice as big as her head, but at least her hearing will hold out longer than her dad’s. I’ve been in the music business so long that a cannon going off right next to me barely registers. Mom was right about all that loud music years ago.

She’s five months old now. It seems like yesterday I saw her enter the world. She looks at everything with the same wonder and amazement that I looked at her with when she made her grand entrance. 

And life hasn’t been the same since.

Next time: Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, bouncing on the exercise ball and how does all that stuff come out of a person that small?