The all-important issue of what you as a grandparent are going to be called

Cal and me

The most common question I received before and after my grandson Calvin was born three weeks ago was what exactly the little guy would call me.

My answer was always the same: "I don't know, and I mostly don't care. He can call me whatever he wants."

Within reason, of course.

The early favorite seems to be the straightforward "Grandpa." To our kids, my dad was "Grandpa Tennant" and Terry's dad was "Grandpa Ross," so the title is already ingrained into our family culture.

But nothing is set in stone, especially since the little guy is all of 21 days old and hasn't quite yet mastered the art of speech.

The people who will have the greatest influence on how Cal refers to his grandparents are his mom and dad, Chloe and Michael. Whatever they call us is very likely what he will call us.

Terry has lobbied to be known as "Grammy." Which is great, but again, unless Cal hears it a lot at home, it's not going to stick.

In any case, the list of potential grandparent names is certainly varied. For men, beyond Grandpa, I've also heard Gramps, Grampy, Grandad, Grandaddy, Grandpap, Papa, Papaw, Poppy, Opa, and the hilariously 21st-century "Granddude."

For women, there's Grandma, Grammy, Grams, Nana, Ga-Ga, Memaw, Mimi, Nanny, Nonna, and another hysterically modern and perhaps tongue-in-cheek selection: "Insta-gram."

Often we take on whatever name our grandchild calls us when he or she is a baby and just learning to talk. So far, in Calvin's case, the only sound he has made when looking at me involves a raspberry and copious amounts of spit.

Somehow, though, "Grandpa Brzzzzzttttfoooo" doesn't have much of a ring to it.

5 Kids, 1 Wife..and 1 Grandchild

To avoid "burying the lede," as they say in the journalism trade, let's begin with the big news in our family these days: My daughter Chloe and her husband Michael are expecting their first baby and our first grandchild in mid-September.

Which means Terry is going to be a grandma, something at which she will be exceedingly good.

It also means I'm going to be a grandpa, a prospect that's certainly welcomed, but one to which I had given little thought to this point.

Chloe gave us the news several weeks ago, but until now we've had to keep quiet about it. It happened on a Thursday evening in early January when she and I were scheduled to attend a Cleveland Orchestra performance together. She came to our house an hour or so early to have dinner with us before the concert.

When she walked into the house, Terry jokingly said to her, "Do you have a present for me?" Chloe replied that, yes, actually she did.

The conversation turned in a different direction for a minute before the idea of Chloe's present came up again, and she told Terry, "It's actually for you and Dad both."

That was the moment I knew what was going on. Amazingly, though, Terry didn't. She almost always picks up on the sorts of cues I don't, but in this case, she didn't see what I was seeing.

Chloe then handed her a plastic test stick with a little digital screen that displayed one word.

"Pregnant."

The expected cheers and hugs followed, after which Chloe told us it was still very early and that only a couple of other people knew at that point. So we had to keep it under wraps until now, which we did.

Mom-to-be Chloe and grandpa-to-be (yikes) me

With Chloe having posted the news on Facebook a few days ago, and Terry having informed her extensive personal network, I guess the knowledge is as public as it's going to get.

Last fall I wrote a post here in which I said that while I was looking forward to having grandkids someday, I wasn't in any particular hurry. And that was true.

But now that the reality is here and Chloe seems to be progressing with no issues. I'm all in.

She isn't due until September 14, so we obviously have a way to go, but already I'm wondering what this little one will call Terry and me.

For my part, I have no real preference. "Grandpa" is fine, as is "Grampy.” As is just about anything, really.

We know many people our age who have multiple grandchildren, but we're only just now for the first time confronting the reality of what it means to be grandparents. It's exciting, humbling and a little scary, all at the same time.

Kind of like it was back in 1993 when we found out Terry was pregnant with Elissa.

So...here comes another life milestone, ready or not. Whatever lies ahead, I can't wait.

When the time comes for grandchildren, fine. Right now? I'm good.

We have five children and zero grandchildren, and I'm absolutely OK with these numbers.

My wife, on the other hand, while not quite chomping at the bit for one of our kids to have offspring of their own, is probably a little more anxious than me for it to happen.

To clarify, I'm sure that if and when we get grandkids, it's going to be great. All of the grandparents I talk to tell me how wonderful it is.

And I believe them.

For the moment, though, I don't need to be anyone's Grandpa.

Or "Grampy," or "Gramps," or "Grandad," or "Grandpap," or even "Granddude," which is apparently gaining in popularity.

I have been "Dad" for many years, and it's still my favorite title. I'm going to stick with it as long as I can (which is presumably the rest of my life).

It has nothing to do with getting or feeling old. I'm nearly 55, which is still middle-aged but creeping inexorably toward senior citizenhood. I'm not fooling anyone anyway.

I just don't feel the same sort of life milestone momentum I used to feel in my 20s and 30s when I got married, bought a house, had kids, progressed in my career, etc.

These days, I'm somewhat more of a go-with-the-flow, take-it-as-it-comes-and-don't-rush-it kind of guy. Or at least much more than I used to be.

It really does feel like the best approach to life, and it only took me a half-century to learn it.

When grandchildren do enter our lives, we will fawn over them and spoil them in the finest Grandma/Grandpa tradition. We will give them things Mom and Dad don't. We will take them on trips and send them presents for no reason and attend every single one of their little league games and school concerts.

I have no doubt Terry and I will be A-1, top-of-the-line grandparents.

But not now. Not quite yet. There's simply no hurry.

For the moment, my focus is going to the gym five days a week so that, when those grandbabies do arrive, I will have the energy to play with them, wrestle with them, take them places, and generally keep up with them.

When it's my time, believe me, I will not be Rocking Chair Grandpa. I'll be Superhero Grandpa.

Or Granddude. I haven't decided on my title yet.

If you have grandparents in your life, you should feel blessed

Sometime in the perhaps-not-too-distant future, I'm going to become a grandfather.

That used to mean that you were irretrievably old. It was partially a result of shorter lifespans, and partially a result of a life spent at hard labor that would age you faster than maybe nature intended.

But nowadays, the most youthful people become grandparents. I know people younger than me who have been grandpas and grandmas for years. Sometimes it's due to a teen pregnancy, while other times it's maybe because you had a child when you were relatively young and now your own child is doing the same.

I only ever had one grandparent in my life, and that was my mom's mom, Grandma Cumberledge. I only saw her a few times a year because she lived four hours from us, but she was always, always extra nice to me. We would go back and visit her, and before we left for home she would slip me a couple of bucks and say, "Now don't you tell your mother I'm giving you this." (But my mom would always know anyway because, you know, moms somehow know absolutely everything you do.)

Both of my father's parents passed away before I was born, and my Grandpa Cumberledge died when I was a year or two old, so I never knew him.

My Grandma Cumberledge, who died in 1984, would have been 116 years old tomorrow, had she somehow managed to stay alive after bearing 10 children and working hard every day for decades. I think of her every January 30th.

Anyway, if you have grandparents still around, or if you at least have positive memories of a grandparent, then consider yourself blessed. They're a lot more valuable than we tend to give them credit for.