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.

Sentimental

MY MUM has still got all of our schoolbooks, reports and various other memorabilia from our schooldays stashed away in her loft.

Given that she's got four children, there's quite a bit of the stuff. I've always thought this is a ridiculous waste of space. I mean, why on earth would you want to keep a school report? Sentimental nonsense.

Now, however, I have changed my view. On Tuesday, there was a ceremony at Chirk Playgroup where every child was presented with a book about their time at the group. Each book was individual, containing pictures and words detailing how they had progressed since joining.

A huge amount of effort has obviously gone into this document and, at the risk of sounding like a pushy parent, reading about Harry's development since starting in September last year makes me incredibly proud.

When Harry first started at the playgroup, he was quite shy and for the first month or two, Melissa stayed with him because he became upset if she left. Since then, he has undergone a complete transformation – he loves going to playgroup and has turned into a very confident little boy.

As if to illustrate the point, he performed a solo ('I can sing a rainbow') at the presentation ceremony, which I was lucky enough to attend. It took quite a bit of restraint not to stand up and cheer him on.

For the first time, I can understand why mum has kept all of our books from school. Being sentimental comes with the territory.

Keep quiet... impossible!

Trying to keep Harry quiet is practically impossible. And since James was born, his volume has, if anything, increased.

This became painfully obvious at the weekend when James was Christened at St Mary's in Chirk. Trying to explain why it's important to be quiet in church is not easy and the harder we tried to keep Harry quiet, the louder he got.

To begin with, Harry was very good and sat quietly. However, after the first hymn he decided that he'd had enough of being quiet and started to talk loudly. Then he decided he was going to sing nursery rhymes.

Glares from Melissa and myself didn't do the trick and neither did whispered warnings through gritted teeth. By the time the second hymn started, Harry was singing London's Burning at the top of his voice. Thankfully the vicar, Rev Tony Rees, was unperturbed, even when Harry announced loudly that he needed the toilet and had to be hurried away quickly by Melissa's sister.

In contrast, James was perfectly behaved throughout, sleeping during the first part of the service before waking up just in time for the baptism itself and - surprisingly - resisting the temptation to shout when the vicar poured water on his forehead. Instead, he just looked quizzically at the vicar as if to say: “What on earth are you doing?”

Of course, it will be a different matter in a couple of years time when I fully expect James to be every bit as loud as Harry. I think I might invest in a set of earplugs.

Buckingham Palace

I'm not very popular with Melissa at the moment. Why? Because in last week's column I wrote, prematurely as it turns out, that James was now sleeping through the night.

Since the article appeared in the Leader, James has woken in the middle of the night every day. It turns out this is my fault for tempting fate.

To be fair to James, I think this is down to the fact that he has had a bit of a cold which has made him a bit grumpy. I don't know if this is a proper cold or the result of his first set of injections but he's not been himself at all.

At least Harry was about to lift the mood. The other day, Harry was downstairs while Melissa, James and myself were upstairs.

I shouted down to Harry to make sure he was ok. “I'm fine dad,” came the reply. “I'm just watching this programme about Buckingham Palace.” I immediately went down to find out what he was really doing. He was sat on the sofa, arms folded, watching BBC Breakfast which was broadcasting from Buckingham Palace. Harry certainly has the ability to surprise.

Mind you, he's not exactly an angel all of the time. The other day, he managed to destroy a new shirt when he decided to experiment with his scissors while doing some cutting out at the kitchen table.

And that's not the only problem we've had with clothing in recent days. In preparation for school, we've been teaching how to dress himself and, obviously, get undressed. This had been going quite well until last week when Harry decided to strip in the front room before clambering up on to the windowsill – stark naked – waving at passers by.

Dad not daddy

THERE have been two fairly major developments in recent days. The first was not exactly unexpected but was certainly welcome: James sleeping through the night for the first time.

It was not exactly a lie-in (5.30am) but having six hours of uninterrupted sleep was such a treat I felt like doing a little jig of celebration

To put things in perspective, James has been a very good baby at night from the start. Until last week he was feeding once in the night (usually about 4am) but almost without exception he would go back to sleep within the hour, with a minimum of fuss. The following day, it was 5am and that has been the pattern ever since. In an ideal world, I'd like him to sleep until 7 but for the time being and, given that he's only 13 weeks old, I'll settle for 5.

All of this is in stark contrast to our experience with Harry; I can remember pacing around the house with him in the early hours of the morning, desperately trying to settle him after a feed. The thought of having six hours uninterrupted sleep was a distant dream!

The other major development has been that Harry has, quite unexpectedly, started calling me 'dad' rather than 'daddy'. While this may seem a fairly insignificant change, I have found it a bit of a shock, not least because it makes Harry sound so much more grown up. It has also made me feel a bit long in the tooth.

I first noticed it while we were on holiday and I thought it was just a freak occurrence. However, it's continued ever since.

I'm still not used to it which means I'll often ignore Harry's demands for my attention. This is fine in the house, but a bit embarrassing when we're out and about and to the rest of the world it just looks like I'm ignoring my son.

Interestingly, he still calls Melissa 'mummy' rather than 'mum'. When that changes we'll know he's definitely a little boy rather than our baby.

Harry down the mine

We've just returned from a week's stay in a caravan at the Haven site in Pwllheli.

Although the weather forecast was bleak, we somehow managed to avoid most of the rain which meant we weren't stuck indoors all week. Harry in particular had a fantastic time and literally ran himself into the ground every day.

A combination of playing on the beach, running around the adventure playground and swimming left him flat out by half six every evening. We didn't see him again until half six the following morning when he would spring out of bed ready to do it all again.

On the Wednesday, we woke to a serious thunderstorm (so serious you could feel the caravan shake every time it thundered) so I took Harry to Blaenau Ffestiniog for a trip down Llechwedd Slate Caverns.

To be honest, that trip was as much for me as it was for Harry – I remember going there when I was younger and being amazed at the size of those underground chambers.

Initially, Harry was impressed. Then, about half way through our first tour, Harry needed the toilet. While the guide related the story of the mines, I tried in vain to stop Harry shouting “I need a wee” at the top of his voice. It got to the point where he was actually hopping from one leg to the other because he was so desperate. Anyway, he managed to hold on and, undeterred, I pressed on with a second tour, this time down the deep mine.

At first I thought this was a terrible mistake. We had only just stepped off the train when Harry said he wanted his mummy. However, he soon forgot about his mum when he realised he could explore the tunnels instead.

I think Harry enjoyed himself and I certainly did, even if there were a couple of fraught moments. And whether Harry likes it or not, I've got plenty more trips like that one lined up already.

A good imagination

Harry certainly has a vivid imagination. This has become increasingly obvious as he's grown up.

When he's playing by himself, you can hear him chattering away, making up stories about what's happening. When he's playing with his trains, for instance, you will often hear him repeating elements of stories about Thomas the Tank that we have read to him. I find the whole thing fascinating and I'm constantly surprised at how much he remembers.

At other times, his imagination can be a little bit difficult to keep up with. For a while, he was constantly talking about his friend John. Apparently, this friend has silver hair, silver eyes and lives in Wrexham. If you see anyone matching that description, can you let me know as Harry tells me he's building a conservatory for him.

Harry's also fond of taking the clothes airers off the radiators and pushing them around the house, pretending that they're lawn mowers. Not only does this play havoc with the carpet, it can also be extremely painful if Harry catches your ankles.

After one such incident, I asked Harry why he was playing with the clothes airers. “It's my lawn mower daddy,” he replied. “But it's not a lawn mower, it's a clothes airer,” I pointed out a bit sharply rubbing a bruised ankle.

“Don't be silly,” he replied in a manner that suggested he was speaking to, well, a three-year-old. “It's only a pretend lawn mower daddy.”

Looking after himself

James will certainly grow up knowing how look after himself after sharing a house with Harry.

On the whole, Harry is quite good with James and generally doesn't do anything too cruel.

However, he can be a little heavy-handed so what should be a gentle stroke of the arm can suddenly turn into something altogether more, well, violent.

Harry is also fascinated with James' hair. Now James, like Harry, takes after me and isn't blessed with a lot of hair. However, the bit he does have tends to stick up like some kind of whispy mohican. This is just too tempting for Harry, who tries to grab it at every opportunity.

On top of this, Harry has taken to shouting or singing as loudly as he can whenever James is sleeping. This is very frustrating when you've just spent an hour trying to get James to settle.

Harry knows exactly what he is doing. Sometimes he will walk into a room and shout 'bang' just to wake James up.

But while looking after James and Harry can sometimes feel a bit like being a referee, it's not all bad. In fact, watching James smile and wave his arms and feet frantically when he spots Harry is wonderful.

Equally, listening to Harry call James 'darling' makes you want to scoop him up and cuddle him.

Having grown up with a younger brother (not to mention an older and a younger sister) I can confidently predict that James' reaction to Harry will not always be so positive.

How is he sleeping?

WHENEVER people ask about James, one of the first questions is invariably 'how is he sleeping?'

The answer is pretty well actually. At the moment he's still waking for a feed in the night but as he's only eight weeks old, that's only to be expected. Either way, it's a significant contrast to our experience with Harry.

I must admit that I've got a lot to answer for in this regard. With Harry, I wouldn't put him back in his cot until he was fast asleep. With hindsight, I was just making problems for myself as it got to the stage where he would start crying as soon as I attempted to put him down.

With James, I'm quite happy putting him back in his cot as soon as he's finished his feed, allowing him to go to sleep on his own. This means we've had, relatively speaking, a decent amount of sleep despite having a newborn in the house.

Last week, however, was a bit more testing as James picked up a chest infection while Harry also developed a cough and cold. James, surprisingly, continued to sleep well but Harry was disturbed by his cough. A couple of times I woke to feed James only to find Harry had climbed into bed between Melissa and myself – and was snoring loudly.

On one occasion, Melissa even sneaked out of our bed and into Harry's. Apparently a combination of Harry snoring, James coughing and a general lack of space was too much for her. Next time it's my turn to escape.

Mission impossible...

If leaving the house with one child was difficult, leaving it with two can feel like mission impossible.

Weekdays are particularly challenging; as well as getting myself ready for work, we have to get Harry and James bathed and dressed so that Harry can go to playgroup. Melissa, of course, also has to find time to make herself presentable to drop Harry off at playgroup.

To anyone without children, this probably doesn't sound like a difficult task. After all, how tough can it be to give two children a wash and get them dressed by eight o'clock in the morning? The answer, at least in our house, is very tough.

For a start, Harry can be a little monkey when you want him to get dressed in a hurry. I dread to think how long I spend during the course of a week trying to persuade, coax or bribe Harry into getting ready. I'm convinced he does it just to make us cross.

Some days, this alone can take half an hour which throws out our timings altogether. And if he doesn't want to get in the bath, you can write off another 15 minutes of your life.

Melissa's solution to the problem is simple: set the alarm earlier than its current time of half six. While this does sound very sensible, my views on the subject are quite clear: we need every minute of sleep possible. I would rather rush around like a headless chicken for an hour and a half than sacrifice one more moment of sleep.

So the rush to leave the house will continue. I'd like to think it will get easier as the boys grow up, but our experience with Harry tells me that won't be happening any time soon.

Everything changes...

JAMES is changing so quickly at the moment that it's difficult to keep up with it all. He now spends a good portion of the day awake, watching what goes on with those incredibly bright eyes that only babies seem to have.

He's also smiling now, which is just as magical this time around as it was when Harry was little.

Honestly, I could sit and watch James for hours. Every expression, yawn, sneeze, gurgle and squeak is just wonderful. The way he kicks his legs and throws out his arms when he's sat in his little baby seat is just as absorbing.

It's brought back great memories from Harry's first few weeks, when I just used to sit staring at him in wonder. The fact that James, to my eyes at least, looks almost identical to Harry at the same age, means that I'm constantly struck by a sense of deja vu.

Of course, with Harry in the house we don't really get an opportunity to sit around and watch James. Not that you miss it, because Harry is such a character.

The other night, he'd had spaghetti hoops with his tea and had spilt a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. Half an hour later, Harry and I were sat in the living room watching television when Harry started scratching at the now dry tomato sauce on his chin.

He looked at me and, with a very serious look on his face, said: “Daddy, I think I need to have a shave. My whiskers are growing.”

Helper Harry

HARRY is a very willing helper when it comes to dealing with James – but his enthusiasm is turning both Melissa and myself into nervous wrecks.

On the one hand, we're very conscious that including Harry in everything we do with James is important; the last thing we want is for Harry to feel pushed out by the new arrival.

Generally, Harry is very good. He will, for instance, get a clean nappy, wipes and nappy bag ready when asked which is genuinely useful.

But we still have to be constantly on our guard just in case Harry gets a bit carried away. This isn't always easy as Harry is particularly quick. The other night I was sitting in the living room with the two boys when Harry asked if he could have a drink of juice. Not wanting to leave Harry alone with James, I asked him to go with me to the kitchen.

Harry did as he was told but disappeared the moment I turned my back to use the tap. I chased after him just in time to see him grab a dummy and thrust it towards James' mouth. I managed to intercept it before any damage was done while a hurt looking Harry turned to me and said: “I was just giving him his dummy daddy.”

This is not an isolated incident. Harry will often sidle up to James before attempting to grab his hair, prompting Melissa or me, or more often than not, both of us, to dive towards the pair of them.

Sometimes Harry decides he wants to hold James, which is equally nerve-wracking. In fact, the only sure-fire way to put Harry off is to tell him that James has filled his nappy. It's amazing how quickly Harry decides he's got something more important to attend to.

Night-time nappies

THE last couple of weeks have certainly served as a reminder about just how demanding new born babies can be. James is a pretty content baby on the whole and he's still spending most of the day sleeping. Mind you it probably helps that, unlike Harry at that age, I'm not trying to wake him up every half hour to show him off to family or friends. Even so, there rarely seems to be any time to catch your breath, particularly with Harry about. Then there's the night feeds – being woken twice every night certainly takes its toll. Put it this way, I'm now going grey at a more rapid rate than I was two or three months ago. What's worse, however, is when James decides to fill his nappy in the middle of the night. For some reason this seems to be his favourite time of the day to full nappies so both Melissa and I are getting quite good at changing smelly nappies in the dark. Speaking of changing, I'd also forgotten just how tricky it is to dress a delicate little baby. James' arms and legs are constantly waving around and trying to get him into a sleepsuit is no easy task. Despite these little moans, being a dad again is a wonderful experience. When he's awake, James is now very alert and watching him examine your face as you talk to him is a magical feeling. And you can't help but smile at all the little grunts, groans and yawns. One thing I can't get right is his name. I keep calling him Harry which is already causing lots of confusion. As a stern Harry told me the other day: “You got the wrong word daddy, his name's Jamesey. I am Harry.”

Life is never dull

LIFE is anything but dull at the moment but Harry has decided that I still haven't got quite enough on my plate at the moment. No, he has decided that it's time for him to teach me Welsh. I arrived home the other day to be greeted by a very excited Harry who told me to go and sit on my carpet (at playgroup all the children have a piece of carpet). I didn't have carpet, rather a triangle cut out of green paper, but the thought was there. I was then presented with a series of flashcards by Harry who began to teach me the Welsh words to describe the weather. Harry and his mum had spent the afternoon creating the cards and putting them into a little case, which he now carries everywhere. I have to say, I'm very impressed and I've even started to pick up a few phrases although, as Harry put it, “You're not very good yet daddy.” When I'm not learning Welsh, I'm still getting to grips with looking after two children at the same time. I've now been left on my own a couple of times – with mixed results. On the first occasion, James slept the whole time Melissa was away which made life very straightforward. The second time, however, Harry was ready for bed and James just would not settle. I eventually decided to put James in his cot and take Harry upstairs regardless. Within minutes, James was shouting while I was still dealing with Harry. In the event, I decided to concentrate on Harry but it didn't stop me feeling very guilty about the crying downstairs. Typically, by the time Harry had dropped off (it was only a matter of minutes, but it felt a lot longer) Melissa had returned to find James shouting away in his cot. The look said it all. It seems I still have plenty to learn about coping with two children.