That's all folks...

Well, after three and a half years and 200 columns, it's time to call time on diary of a dad.

Harry started school this week and although it's only half days at the moment, Melissa and I agreed when I started writing the column that I would finish when he started school.

After all, it's bad enough having an embarrassing dad about the place, let alone having an embarrassing dad that writes for the local paper.

Looking back over the last three and a half years, I can honestly say that it's been an incredible experience: from the unadulterated joy of Harry's arrival, to his first words and first steps; and from James' traumatic birth (I still get nightmares when I think about watching a limp little baby being snatched away by the emergency team that descended on the delivery room), to the robust, happy little baby who flaps around with excitement when I walk in at night.

The changes that happen in such a relatively short space of time are truly remarkable. Sometimes I look at Harry and wonder when he suddenly turned into the tall, grown-up boy he is now.

I've learned an awful lot. For instance, I now know that it is in fact possible to function with only two hours sleep a night. I also know that, unless England happen to be playing a Test series in India or Australia, television is terrible at 5 o'clock in the morning.

Having grandparents that live within a few miles has also been a huge help. As much as we love our boys, having the odd night out or night away is a real treat – and that wouldn't be possible if we didn't haven't such supportive parents.

Has it changed me? Absolutely. It's a bit of a cliché but many of the things I thought were important before we had children simply pale into insignificance now. My priorities are now very simple: Harry and James.

Thanks for reading.

Growing up...

James is changing so quickly at the moment that he already seems to be more of a little boy than a baby.

He is very aware of his surroundings and responds with a great deal of excitement when people pay him attention – particularly his big brother.

James gets extremely excited when he sees Harry – he thrashes his arms and legs so hard that at times I worry that he'll do himself an injury.

The other evening, a very tired Harry was lying down on the sofa watching a television programme before bed. James was in his little walker on the floor and started to gradually push himself towards Harry, who was a couple of feet away. After about 15 minutes – and plenty of activity – James had got within grabbing distance and promptly took hold of Harry's bare foot and started chewing on it. Harry was not impressed but didn't shout or kick out as I expected him to.

Instead, he got up off the sofa and pushed James to the other side of the room, before turning him to face the opposite direction. Harry then returned to the sofa and carried on watching the television without saying a word. Melissa and I were in stitches.

Mind you, we almost as surprised the other day when Harry, without prompting, started to share his yoghurt with James. Now Harry loves his yoghurts and, as a rule, refuses to share them with anyone. However, he obviously made an exception for James because he just started feeding him – and even scraped the excess yoghurt from around his mouth. James was delighted. I just hope this goodwill continues as they grow up.

Feeding time...

I don't want to tempt fate, but James has taken to his food very well indeed. After a predictably tricky start, he has grasped the concept of eating very, very quickly.

It seemed to happen all of a sudden. Before Melissa took the boys on holiday a couple of weeks ago, the process was, at least as far as I was concerned, a fairly fruitless and extremely messy exercise. At times, I wasn't sure James had actually swallowed anything.

However, he is now eating just about everything we put in front of him – and when he sees you approaching with spoon and bowl in hand, he can barely contain his excitement.

It's certainly helping with his sleeping, because he's now just about going though the night again.

He's still waking about five for some milk but I can cope with the early mornings much better than I can cope with one or two o'clock feeds.

The food is obviously agreeing with him, because he seems to be getting bigger all the time – he's well over 20 pounds now and feels every ounce of it when you pick him up.

One thing that has surprised me is just how similar James and Harry now look. At times, James looks like the spitting image of Harry at the same age, which can be quite disconcerting. This is a relatively recent thing as up until a few weeks ago, I thought that James looked quite different.

Unfortunately, James, like Harry, has inherited my lack of hair. I can't remember how old Harry was when his hair finally started to thicken – probably not much before he was two – but I was quite releived to spot a few hairs finally starting to sprout on James' head this week. I think I was bald until I was three or four so I just hope James improves on that.

Caravan guilt

THE conversation went something like this: “Hello daddy. Where are you?”

“Hello Harry, I'm on my way home from work.”

“Are you coming to the caravan?” “No, I can't Harry. Sorry.” “Why not? Are you missing me daddy?” “I am missing you Harry.” “Come here to the caravan then.”

And to a three-and-a-half-year-old, it made perfect sense; if I was missing him, why didn't I just go and see him?

The conversation happened earlier this week when Melissa took Harry and James to a caravan in Prestatyn for the week with her mum and dad.

As I didn't have any time off, I took them last weekend and returned home on Sunday, feeling guilty after the conversation with Harry I've just described. To be honest, I did think about staying in Prestatyn and commuting to work but because I would have arrived in Prestatyn at bedtime each evening, we decided it would be more trouble than it was worth.

So that left me rattling about the house on my own and one question that occurred to me several times during the course of the week was: what on earth did I do with all my time before we had children? Honestly, even getting in from work, going to the gym and catching up on the housework still left me twiddling my thumbs in the evening.

And the bit I was quite looking forward to – eight hours of uninterrupted sleep for an entire week – didn't materialise. Every night I woke up about 3am – probably because I'm used to waking up about that time with James – before waking again at 6am, when Harry usually bounds into our room like a mini tornado.

In fact, on one occasion this week, I found myself vacuuming the house at half six in the morning. Harry would have been proud of me.

Two children is plenty thanks...

I HAVE a great deal of respect for couples that decide to have more than two children. As somebody who comes from a large family (I have two sisters and one brother), I can only admire my mum and dad for coping. I'm not sure how they did it because five months into being a parent for the second time, it's tough going.

Of course, I wouldn't change it for the world but, equally, the thought of another baby fills me with terror. That's not to say that Harry or James are difficult; they just require a lot of attention, generally both at the same time.

That's perhaps a bit unfair on Harry. He's pretty easy to look after as long as you give him something to do.

James, on the other hand, is a little bit more demanding. He's taken to sleeping for only very short periods during the day – 10 or fifteen minutes is par for the course – and when he isn't sleeping, he wants attention. He has started taking an interest in toys (by interest, I really mean putting them in his mouth and gnawing on them) but they don't keep him quiet for long.

At a similar age, Harry would sleep for two or three hours at a time, which meant we were able to get plenty of jobs done. Much to Melissa's frustration, this simply isn't possible with James.

It's swings and roundabouts of course, because James is a much better sleeper at night – and on balance I think that a decent night's sleep is preferable.

More milestones for baby James

The little milestones are coming thick and fast for James. As well as being able to roll on to his side now, he's also started laughing properly. It's only slight change – previously he would just gurgle whereas he now chuckles properly – but it's a magical sound to my ears.

More importantly, however, he's also started having a little bit of baby rice. Although this is early (James is five months old next week), his appetite is such that he had started waking in the middle of the night again for a feed.

I had forgotten just what a messy, frustrating experience weaning can be. I tried to feed him his baby rice the other day and I swear it ended up everywhere except in his mouth.

Generally, he is so keen to grab the spoon that most of the food never reaches his mouth. The bit that does get there almost invariably comes straight back out again. I must be getting old because I can't remember Harry being such a problem.

Still, it's a sign that James is growing up and at least that means he's easier to handle. He is rapidly losing the vulnerability of a newborn, which is particularly good news when Harry decides it's time for a cuddle.

Speaking of Harry, he is also growing up fast – so fast in fact that Melissa has ordered his school uniform. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, Harry is clearly ready for school – he needs to be kept busy and I'm sure school will help in this regard.

On the other hand, the thought of him going to school makes him seem almost too grown up – he is only three and a half, after all – and, as irrational as it is, I can't help but feel that he's just too young to fend for himself in a classroom.

Pride... and a fall

I can't help feeling a bit sorry for James. When Harry was born, he had our undivided attention and everything he did was scrutinised and celebrated by Melissa and myself. James, on the other hand, has to fit in to what feels like a very hectic household and that means I rarely have the time to just sit there and marvel at him.

And whereas we have literally hundreds of pictures of Harry, we've probably only taken about half that number of James.

I'm sure this is not uncommon for second-time parents. Now that we're a family of four, finding a spare five minutes seems to be practically impossible.

Having said all of that, I do really enjoy the odd moments of peace and quiet when they do crop up. The other night, Melissa was out and I'd taken Harry up to bed, while James was in a particularly happy mood. He is a very smiley baby (except when he's hungry, obviously) and we sat for what must have been about half an hour just playing about. It was fantastic; James just gurgled and smile happily while I babbled away with him. I don't think there is any more effective a stress reliever than ten minutes in the company of a happy baby.

To cap a perfect night, when Melissa returned I was able to report (maybe just a little bit smugly) that Harry had gone to bed like a little angel, James was fast asleep, I'd washed up the dishes and tidied away Harry's toys. I'd even started to read a book – and that hasn't happened for months on end.

But as my nan always says, pride comes before a fall and this was certainly the case last Saturday when Melissa was out and my only task was to dress Harry and James and get them into the car. After an hour and a half of chaos – including chasing Harry around the house while simultaneously trying to stop James screaming – we finally left the house. I'm sure I aged five years in one morning.