Rules of parenthood

As the proud father of boys aged two years (Isaac) and one month (Toby), I have learned to accept my place as the fourth-most important person in our household. I've read the books (well, some of them, anyway), I've compared experiences with other mums and dads, and I've decided it's a shame no one ever tells you what the real rules of parenthood are, the ones that really govern our lives as parents and that most of us end up discovering only through painful experience.

Off the top of my head, here are five valuable and immutable rules of parenthood:

Rule #1: Newborn babies are public property (just as pregnant mothers' bumps are). So when complete strangers descend on you in Waitrose, peer into the pram and engage you in conversation when all you really want to do is pay up and go home, just smile and remember that you're only the parent and have no rights as such.

Rule #2: Keep the remote control - and any other valuable gadget with buttons - out of reach. You may think it's difficult to delete the contents of your Sky+ box. To a child it's, well, child's play.

Rule #3: There is no better negotiator in this world than a 2-3 year old toddler. By this age, they possess significant native cunning (and aren't afraid to use it), they have enough vocabulary to state exactly what they want, they are well practised in the art of mega-tantrums and they know they can punch/pinch/slap you in public without fear of retribution with the might of disapproving onlookers and the Child Protection Agency on their side. Just learn to be gracious in defeat: it makes life much easier.

Rule #4: You will always need to do an emergency nappy change when you are already running late for that important doctor's / dentist's / hairdresser's / insert as applicable appointment.

Rule #5: Here is the formula for calculating how long you need to get ready to leave the house with children:

Time required (in minutes) = n(t+15) + x + r

Where n is the number of children you have, t is the time (in minutes) it used to take you to get ready pre-children, x is the number you first thought of, and r is a random number between 5 and 60 to cover emergency nappy changes, toddler tantrums and returning to the house to retrieve wallets / birthday presents / favourite toys. It doesn't really matter, because you'll still be late anyway no matter what.

There are many other rules governing parenthood; I'm sure you will have some of your own. Feel free to share - after all, us parents are in this together ...

Diet, here we go (again)

At the beginning of December I weighed in at 17st 7lbs, with the ambition of emerging post-Christmas no heavier than that.

Fail.

By New Year, I had gained about three pounds, to which I had added a further three by last weekend, tipping the scales at 17st 13lbs.

In my (admittedly feeble) defence, there were some mitigating factors. The three major snowfalls we had - one the week before Christmas, two in the first half of January - left me housebound and suffering from cabin fever, and with that a concomitant need to comfort eat for long spells. And then there was my two weeks of paternity leave after Toby's birth, which afforded a welcome opportunity to spend some quality time in the kitchen and cook proper meals- tasty, but not exactly conducive to weight loss.

With hindsight, it was no surprise I gained a significant chunk of weight. (Still, it could have been worse: one more pound and I would be starting from 18-something, not 17.)

Anyhow, I'm now back at work and back on the wagon, with my dieting mojo fully restored. Sensible eating and a gentle (to begin with) programme of exercise are the orders of the day. 17 st 5 lbs was my pre-Christmas target, so by my reckoning a pound a week will get me to my target by Easter.

Willpower on. Let's go.