Turning 40, Chasing a Toddler, and Still Trying to Be Cool: A Dad's Reflection

So here I am. 40 years old. I’ve officially joined the “middle-aged” club — though I like to think of it as “young enough to still rock sneakers, old enough to own orthotics.” But this milestone feels different, not because of the number, but because of a certain little whirlwind in my life: my 2.5-year-old daughter, Amelia.

40 Hits Different When You’re an Old Dad

Remember when 40 used to sound old? Like, “minivan with crusty sippy cups and listening to talk radio” old? Turns out, that’s not the case. Instead, it’s bedtime stories, impromptu dance parties to Raffi songs, and being told “No, Daddy, you can’t sing” by a pint-sized CEO of my household.

I spend my days helping clients plan their financial futures — retirements, tax savings, and dreams of beach houses. But now, in my off-hours, I’m building Duplo towers and negotiating with a 2-year-old about why pants are, in fact, non-negotiable.

Perspective, huh?

The Richest Investment? Time (and Patience)

As a financial advisor, I talk a lot about investing. But nothing prepared me for the ROI of fatherhood. Every silly face, every mispronounced word (“spaghetti” is “psghetti” forever now), every sleepy cuddle after a tantrum — these are the dividends I didn’t see coming.

And patience? Let’s just say the market for that commodity skyrocketed once Amelia learned the word “Why?”

Imagination is Free, But It’s Priceless

One of the greatest perks of fatherhood — especially at 40 — is that you get to live in a magical world where age simply doesn’t exist. Amelia has no idea that Daddy is “officially” a middle-aged geriatric millennial. In her mind, I’m not a tired man wondering if ibuprofen and a handful of supplements count as a food group. No, I’m her Prince.

She’ll look up at me with those sparkling eyes, hold out her tiny hand, and declare, “Prince, you have to dance with me!” And let me tell you, nothing tests the integrity of a 40-year-old’s knees quite like a toddler’s demand for endless twirling. My fitness tracker thinks I’m training for a Disney marathon, but really, I’m just trying not to pull a hamstring in the living room ballroom. Mind you, the dress code is a tutu over pajamas (for both of us, apparently).

Other days, I’m promoted to Christopher Robin, the faithful sidekick to Winnie the Pooh. Our backyard becomes the Hundred Acre Wood, and my job is to lead vital missions to find honey (which is often cleverly disguised as snack cups). Amelia tells me, “Daddy, you’re Christopher Robin because you’re brave.” I almost melted into a puddle right there. For a financial advisor who usually deals with retirement plans, being declared “brave” for battling stuffed animals is a promotion I didn’t see coming.

Balancing Dad Life and Money Life

Let’s be honest, no one warns you that being a dad in your 40s means you’ll be cast as a “Prince” who occasionally has to ice his knees after a tea party. My “dad bod” is less about aesthetics now and more about structural integrity.

But here’s the thing: I wouldn’t trade these roles for anything. Being Amelia’s prince, her Christopher Robin, her personal jungle gym — this is what all that “financial freedom” is for.

Because when she wraps her little arms around me, calls me “my prince” or insists I save Pooh from an imaginary mud puddle, I don’t feel old. I feel rich in all the ways that truly matter.

When asked, “How do you balance being a dad and managing other people’s financial dreams?” The answer is simple: boundaries, laughter, and hardly any sleep. But more importantly, Amelia reminds me every day why financial planning matters. It’s not about spreadsheets and portfolios, it’s about creating freedom. Freedom to be present. Freedom to dance in the kitchen. Freedom to chase her around the park without worrying about the next bill or the distant retirement plan. It's also about relationships, caring for one another with love, mutual respect, and full commitment.

A Mid-Life Crisis? Or a Mid-Life Awakening?

Turning 40 could be a scary thing, but Amelia makes it feel like a new chapter filled with wonder (and sticky fingerprints).

Instead of buying a red convertible, I’m investing in experiences. Instead of fearing grey hairs, I’m proud of the “dad sparkle” they bring. And if I’m being honest, they make me look pretty distinguished when I’m giving financial advice (Sorry Marc, I don't think Just For Men is for me).

A Few Dad-Life Financial Tips (from the heart):

Budget for joy. Kids don’t care about your 401(k) today. They care if you have time for an extra story tonight.
Plan for surprises. Like unexpected vet bills…for the imaginary dog your toddler just adopted.
Teach by example. Amelia watches everything. If I want her to value money, time, and kindness, I need to model that every day.
Give yourself grace. Perfect parents don’t exist. Present parents do.

40 is the New Dad Bod Chic

So, here’s to turning 40. Here's to a lifetime of being Sheree's husband. Here’s to being Amelia’s dad. Here’s to realizing that the best investment I’ll ever make is in these fleeting, sticky, joy-filled moments.

If you’re a fellow parent about to hit 40 or already there, congrats. You’re not losing your youth. You’re gaining something way better: perspective, purpose, and a reason to be your best self.

And if you ever need help planning for your future — or just someone to swap “toddler boss” stories with — you know where to find me.

~ Mike Razzouk