Like many parents, Barry Soper’s favourite part of the day comes around 8pm, when his two little treasures – the children he never imagined he’d be raising at this stage of life – are finally tucked up in bed.
Don’t get him wrong. The veteran political journalist loves being dad to Iggy, four, and Mackay, 20 months, the children he shares with Heather Du Plessis-Allan. But after a day spent negotiating tantrums, wiping noses, changing nappies and keeping his two little whirlwinds entertained, he’s more than happy to sink into the sofa and savour the silence.
At 74, dad-of-seven Barry still marvels at the unexpected turn his life has taken. Had anyone told his younger self he’d be raising toddlers in his seventies, he says, “I’d have thought they were nuts.”
Yet he wouldn’t change a thing. His only regret?
“I wish I was 20 years younger. The hardest thing as an older dad is knowing that your time is finite – you’re very aware of your longevity.”
Politics can wait
It’s a rainy Wednesday morning at home in Auckland and Barry is in full-on dad mode. He’s dropped Iggy at kindy and collected the car from the mechanics with baby Mackay in tow, all while keeping half an ear on a developing political story as a leadership struggle unfolds in Parliament.
His phone is running hot, but with the family’s nanny away, he and Drive host Heather, 42, are juggling work and childcare until she heads into the Newstalk ZB studio, and her mum arrives to help out.
Barry, who works part-time as senior political commentator, will then make his own dash into the city, joining Heather on air to dissect the day’s drama before speaking to a room full of business leaders.
But for now, politics has to wait. Little Mackay has appeared at her dad’s side, her eyes fixed firmly on his ginger slice.
“Here we are, Bubba, you can have some,” he says, pulling his beloved girl onto his knee.
She looks out the window.
“I see tower!”
“That’s right,” says Barry.
“That’s the Sky Tower.”
A second chance at fatherhood
Like her parents, Mackay is a big talker, and Barry reveals that she looks so much like Heather, she can even unlock her mum’s phone with Face ID. Big brother Iggy “rules the roost” says Barry.
“He’s a typical four-year- old boy – he’s boisterous and full-on, but he’s great fun.”
Barry is also a devoted dad to his five older children – Kate, 44, Hannah, 41, Alice, 37, Henry, 32, and Hugh, 30 – but he admits that fatherhood looked very different when they were growing up.
His career as one of New Zealand’s best-known political journalists meant long hours and a lot of time away following prime ministers around the world. He wasn’t at home as much as he should have been, admits Barry, whose recent memoir One Last Question, Prime Minister,is a bestseller.
Now, as his career winds down and Heather’s continues to flourish, family life has taken on a different form, with Barry taking a very hands-on approach to parenting. The chance to be a different kind of dad has been a blessing, he says.
From the moment Iggy was born, Barry has been what he calls the “primary caregiver” for his little ones, with he and Heather sharing the parenting load as a team.
“It’s quite nice in my twilight years to have two little children who I’m with a lot. It’s the nice side of being a parent when you get older. “I walk with Mackay in the pram every day for 6km, and people often stop and say, ‘Oh, what a nice grandfather you are taking her out,’ and I just say, ‘I’m the dad, actually.’”
Counting his blessings
Parenthood this time around has given Barry a fresh perspective on life. So, too, has the health crisis he faced in 2023, when he nearly died after a heart attack and complications left him hospitalised for months.
“I carked it, basically. I ended up having CPR on the floor,” he says.
“And so yes, that does make me very aware of how lucky I am. For me to have two little kids at my age, it’s a treasure in itself. And this time around, I’m more placid, I’m more understanding and more tolerant than I was.”
His older children are scattered around New Zealand and overseas, and while he is close to all of them, he admits he finds the distance difficult – particularly when it comes to his grandchildren – and Iggy and Mackay’s nieces and nephews, Nia, eight, and Gethin, five, and Daisy, eight, and Casper three.
“I find it really hard not knowing my grandchildren as much as I should know them,” he admits.
Barry’s proudest role
When the family does come together, there is no shortage of laughter, joking, political debate and good-natured sparring. Barry is immensely proud of all his children and he lights up when talking about daughter Alice, who has forged her own career as a journalist and television presenter. Recently, Alice wrote what it’s like growing up with one of New Zealand’s most recognisable political commentators:
“It means a lifetime of explaining that people aren’t just limited to the context in which we encounter them. Knowing that he is hated by many people I like, loved by many I don’t. That he has a public-facing job but at home he’s ours. Barry is my dad. It’s as simple and complicated as that.”
“Isn’t it good,” says Barry.
“She was born with opinions right from the beginning. We have totally different political opinions – all my kids do – but that’s what makes things interesting.”
Breaking the cycle
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Barry’s own experience growing up has shaped the father he wanted to become. The Southland-raised former rugby player was extremely close to his mother Doreen, but had a more complicated and distant relationship with his father Len.
“He was very much of that generation that was never as loving as men are today. So I think they were always a bit afraid to show their emotions – they didn’t know how to show love.”
When he became a father himself, Barry was determined to do things differently.
“I wanted to be softer, I knew that. It was my mother who was my role model for parenting. She used to say, ‘Your children are your souls, they’re your soul living outside your body.’ And I think that’s right. Because the love you have for your children never diminishes, no matter how old they are. You’re always there for them.”
Ultimately, he says, there is only one thing he wants for all his children.
“It comes back to that one word – happiness. Of course your kids have their ups and downs, and their struggles, but ultimately, you just want them to be happy.”
While Barry and Heather’s 30-year age gap attracted plenty of attention when they got together almost 20 years ago, these days it is simply a non-event. Their friends span the generations and they are as comfortable together in either world.
“At the start, I suppose it was slightly unusual, but we’ve been together for almost 20 years now and the age gap just hasn’t been an issue. Heather said to me early on that she was marrying me, not my birth certificate!”
Making time for each other
Life is busy and finding time as a couple can be a challenge, but they make a point of catching up over dinner most nights. Summer holidays are spent at their Coromandel bach and they’ve recently returned from a well-earned break in Fiji with the kids.
“Life is more formulaic than it was, but that’s just part and parcel of having children,” he says.
“We’re not going out and having a good knees-up like we used to, but our life is very fulfilling. And you get more than you give, in a way. You get a lot of love from kids.”
He has nothing but praise for Heather as a mother.
“Their mum is everything to them,” says Barry.
“And Heather is wonderful with them – she’s very caring.”
When they do have time alone, conversation usually turns to their children – or politics. Their debates can be “vociferous”, and Barry is delighted to report that Heather owed him four bottles of whiskey after losing another bet over the outcome of leadership squabbles in the National Party.
“She’s paid up!”
All he wants is more time
For all the demands of having young children in his seventies, Barry wouldn’t trade this chapter of his
life for anything. Yes, his back aches sometimes and he’s exhausted at the end of the day. But he knows how lucky he is.
“The only thing that I would like now is time, so the longer I can last, the happier I’ll be that I can
see my kids developing.”
And on Father’s Day, there’s no doubt Barry’s children will make a fuss. There will be cards and hugs from Iggy and Mackay, Heather will do something nice, and he’ll get calls and messages from his older tribe. There won’t be breakfast in bed, though.
“No way,” he laughs.
“That would be far too messy with this lot!”
