As my youngest daughter turns one, I’ve been reflecting a lot on the past 12 months. Not in a “this is what we’ve learned” way that you might find at the end of a cheesy sitcom. And definitely not in a “here is my advice on being a dad” way, because I don’t really know anything. Here is part one of 12 things that I have learned (part two to follow next week):

1. I don’t really know anything. Mostly because not everything worked the first time, and not everything that worked the first time worked the second time. It’s almost as if children are individuals, and react to things differently. Also, because those first few months are so disorienting and sleep-deprived, I cannot for the life of me remember anything that did or didn’t work. Ergo, I don’t really know anything.

Never, ever, ever talk about sleep, especially when it’s going well

2. Never, ever, ever talk about sleep. Especially when it’s going well. Anytime someone has asked how the sleep is going, and we’ve been in a good period, I’ve been stupid enough to tempt fate and let them know that it is going well. That is a surefire way for things to go badly. Instantly. My sister asked me how the sleeping was going, and we’d just got into a good groove, and it was starting to appear successful. She was pregnant at the time, and I wanted her to know it was going to be OK. So I told her it was going well, really positive. This unleashed two weeks of disruption: unable to fall asleep without being comforted, multiple wake-ups (usually timed for just when I hit deep sleep) and the pre-5am wake-up. I will never talk about it again.

3. I can scoop poo out of the bath quickly. When the baby, relaxing in the warm water, having been a bit constipated that day, lets something go, I’ve got the method to deal with it.

4. If you’re going to have your kids share a room, don’t rush it. There was a disastrous two weeks where we tried to get our two daughters to share. It resulted in them winding each other up, waking each other up, giggling at each other instead of sleeping, crying, more crying and a bit more crying. It ended when a fifth night of sleeplessness made us snap.

5. Thank God for hand-me-downs. As a teenager, I was always a bit miffed that everything I wore was a hand-me-down from my cousins. They were twins, and wore the same outfits, so I had two of everything once they grew out of it. Looking back, having two of that classic LA Lakers jacket would have made me twice the fortune on eBay today. At the time, I just felt uncool wearing clothes I never got to choose. But hand-me-downs through our families have been a godsend. Especially shoes, which seem to have a sweet spot of four weeks when they fit well. Having hand-me-downs from friends and family for our first kid was great, and then we got to reuse most things again. It saved a fortune which, when you need to buy nappies all the time, is very welcome. Because, my lord, we tried with the reusable nappies, but we just couldn’t manage it. Getting through the washing is hard enough without the constant pressure of ensuring nappies were regularly cleaned, washed, dried and ready for use.

6. I remember wondering, when our youngest was born, just how the hell you managed two. Obviously, people have done it for millions of years. But other people aren’t as clueless as I am… And for the first few months, it definitely felt like we were tag-teaming attention. But a few weeks ago, I left them to their own devices while I did some washing up. I heard the keyboard my youngest sister definitely bought to troll us switch on, and I heard squeals of delight, as they both had the most infernal discordant loud jam session ever, smiling at each other, feeding off each other and playing together properly for what felt like the first time. I stopped what I was doing and just watched. It was beautiful.