Dear Cecily,
What do you do when people think you are your kids GRANDMOTHER?
Ah, this one is easy!
Hair dye.
Shall I explain?
See, when my husband and I moved to the suburbs, we chose our neighborhood based on many things; the pretty streets, the reasonable housing prices, the moderately decent elementary school, and the fact that each time we came to see houses we saw, quite charmingly, children of mixed races happily playing together on the streets on bikes and skateboards.
What we didn’t know when we bought here is that this neighborhood is largely working-class Catholic — which, you know, is awesome for them — who all apparently had children moments after graduating from high school.
Point: I MIGHT BE GROSSLY EXAGGERATING HERE. ALSO, I MIGHT BE A SNOBBY ASSHOLE.
So when we finally had our daughter after our six year nightmare of infertility and loss, I was a happy 38 years old and my husband was 43. When we left the hospital and came home to our charming bedroom community, the grandparent thing started IMMEDIATELY.
The first time it happened my daughter was barely two weeks old, and we were venturing out to the grocery store as a family for the first time. As we placed the car seat in the grocery cart, beaming with new parent pride, almost immediately some beotch said to my husband, “Your granddaughter is adorable!” Not long after that, he was out with her and someone said, after asking about the baby, “And you are…” and he said, “The father?” which took the questioner by surprise.
Now, my husband is HOT. He is completely wrinkle free now at 48, he has crystal clear gray-green eyes that are stunning, and women that meet him invariably look at my fat ass with a touch of shock like, DAMN GIRL YOU MUST BE GOOD IN BED TO HAVE SNAGGED HIM (to which I smile, smugly, knowing that I am). However, he, just like his father, went gray very early starting in his beard when he was 30. So, after the one hundredth person asked him about his granddaughter, he broke down and did it: he bought a box of Just For Men hair dye and dyed his beard and his hair to tone the gray down.
The grandparent thing for me didn’t start until my daughter was about 18 months old and we joined a local pool club. Suddenly the other women my age that I’d be idly chatting with while my daughter swam all told me how sweet it was that I was taking my granddaughter to the pool every day.
Oof.
So when I also crept up toward my 40th birthday, I decided to return to my 16 year old roots: I dyed my hair pink.
And for the last two years, I have had it various shades of hot red, bright pink, and today, purple. Let me tell you this: people look at me askance, they stare at me, they say (completely falsely) “I love your hair!” but they do NOT ask me if my four and half year old is my granddaughter.
Ahem.
Of course, it could also be that my daughter has a nonstop chant of “mommymommymommymommymommymommymommy” whenever we’re anywhere. You know. Maybe.
About Cecily Kellogg
I wish I had your balls. I’ve been secretly lusting over some manic panic for about a year – but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Silly, I know – it’s just hair dye.
Maybe tomorrow.
Twitter Name: shefindsgraves
Being adopted, people would remark when I went out with my dad.
They either thought he got a mail-order bride or my dad was seriously robbing the cradle.
Twitter Name: Anissa Mayhew
or woody allen!
Twitter Name: Anissa Mayhew
When my 4 kids were young, I’d get: “I can’t believe you have 4 kids!”
They don’t say that anymore. Now they say, “Where do you find the energy?”
Problem with the hot husband too: he is aging marvelously and has soccer moms flirting constantly. Me? Not-so-much. And with no energy…am ready to share him on demand? Hey…maybe I can reverse pimp him out for college tuition bills??
Twitter Name: returntoworkmom
I had a man refer to Eleanor as my granddaughter in the grocery store when she was just an infant. His wife whacked him with her handbag. I didn’t have to say a word.
I was 41 when I had her and while I’m highlighting a little, I’m not covering my gray. I earned ‘em. My kids may not remember me when I wasn’t gray but I don’t remember my dad when he wasn’t gray and look how fabulously I turned out. Ahem.
Twitter Name: ClumberKim
I can’t believe that I know people my age (almost 40) that already have grandchildren. Blows my mind. I would never assume. Why can’t people just say, “oh what a pretty baby.” Period.
I had it the opposite: three kids of my own and a total baby face, not to mention being just short of 5 feet tall. The number one question I always got was, “Where is your mother?” I could never think of anything wittier to respond with than, “I AM the mother.”
As a fellow geriatric *g* mom I’ve always feared this reaction, but have never received it. I guess those years of acting immature really paid off. As for hubby? Not a touch of grey in his to-his-butt hair, so I guess he just doesn’t fit the grampa mould.
Twitter Name: therealneeroc
Girl. I am not even sure how you did not punch someone the first (or tenth) time that happend. I am so lost when people act as if it just natural to have a baby in or just out of high school. I have NOTHING against what people do. But it is a hard, hard thing to do. That being said, I have two children that I adopted who are 16 and 18. I do have random colored hair as well. It is a red wine color right now- which depends on what light you see me in. I am short as well so it all makes me look a bit younger than I am- and younger than someone who has an 18 year old. If I birthed them, I could have started 16 and pregnant. I used to get a lot of stares and whispers when I was younger and people saw me with the kids. (who are mine. my babies.) Living in a small judgemental town made us the topic of conversation at times. These days, I get a lot of “you look like you could be their sister”. Which technically I am, but it is no one’s business and who wants to explain all of that drama. So I just take the comment and roll. Knowing full well they are talking about what a hooker they think I must have been in high school!
Twitter Name: pqforlife
I have experienced the opposite in a couple of ways. When I pregnant with my daughter at the tender age of 33, I got “it’s such a shame for a young single girl like yourself to be in that situation.” I stared at the woman for second and said, “Who me? I’m 33 and I’ve been married for 5 years, what situation are you talking about?” She quickly turned away. Another time my dad, who is 62 and looks 62, was out with my daughter (she was 4) and someone asked if he was her father. Um, no.
Yeah, people suck. I got the “oh, you’re still in college, hrm” bit when I was pregnant with my daughter. Well, yeah, I went back to school at 27. I had been married and a stepmom for two years before I got knocked up. So which is it, you judgmental ass, am I too young to get pregnant, or too old to be in college?
And, if we have another child, I’ll be in my mid/late 30s, so I guess then I’ll go from being a “teen mom” to a “grandma”.
As a 43-year-old dad of toddlers, I’m sure people have thought that. But no one has said it yet. However, someone the other day asked how old the kids were, and the other usual “getting to know you” questions before finally adding, “and…they’re yours?” I was like, “uh…yeah?” She walked off after that and I thought for a while about what other possibilities she was considering. That I was the grandpa? The nanny? A kidnapper? It’s still bugging me, actually.
Twitter Name: betadad
I think it all boils down to the stupidity of the people asking. When my brother was really little this my family (mom, stepdad, myself & the little man) went on vacation. The old man in the store remarked “oh how sweet, 3 generations” insinuating that my mother was the grandma, I was married to my stepdad & my little brother was ours. This was at least 5 years ago (or so) and my mom remembers it perfectly.
So yeah, stupidity or lack of common sense. Even if you might *think* something like that it’s not appropriate to vocalize it. Like someone mentioned above just say “oh, what a cute baby!”
Twitter Name: breathe_again
I’m 47 and look young for my age, thanks in part to hair dye. I am always mistaken for my toddler granddaughter’s mother when I take her out in public. I’m always quick to say that I’m her grandmother, but I’m going to cry a little inside the first time a stranger assumes that I am.
My hubby will be 4 years younger than Michelle (above’s) dad when our son is 4. When people call him “granddad,” he says, “I’m his dad! I was 25 when he was born, but keeping up with him sure has aged me fast.”
I also occasionally get to talking with friends who have multiple kids (I’ve had only one, though not by choice) about the pros and cons of different spacings, which end invariably in the observation that “there is no perfect spacing” except that I then assure them there is: the ~2.5 decades between DH’s older kids and our little one has been wonderful …
We have a 4yo and a 7yo. I’m 42 and hubby is 55. Guess who gets the puzzled looks? Hint: Not him. :/