Neither braver nor wiser

It would be fair to say that fatherhood has not changed me enough. When it first happened, I imagined myself rising to the challenge, maturing, becoming a different person altogether. Seven years on, I find I am neither braver, wiser, kinder, stronger or in any measurable way, better. One of my arms is slightly bigger than the other from carrying them everywhere, but I'm not sure this is a genuine improvement.

There is a sense, of course, of profound change: from the birth onwards, the centre of your existence moves outside your own head and takes up residence in a nearby infant. As more children arrive, one's sense of self diminishes in a way that is not altogether displeasing. But where this shift is automatic, actually becoming less selfish remains an act of conscious will, and old habits die hard. You have to surrender upon request your time, money and any peanuts you might be saving for later. You have to accept that your treasured things are just junk that hasn't been broken yet.

There are some definite advantages, however. I was always a natural pedant with a strong urge to be condescending, although I never had anyone to talk down to before. Now I have a captive audience for my long-winded hectoring. But never having been in a position of authority, I am unskilled at dealing with insolence, outright insubordination, or underlings who laugh unashamedly when you hit your head on a doorframe.

Becoming a father has also loosened some emotional nut in my brain, causing me to cry at odd times ? during school plays, or in the middle of breakfast-cereal adverts. Fatherhood's overriding emotion, however, is fear - fear that your children will come to harm, fall ill, go missing, have their innocence dented too early or be denied some particular advantage in life because of you. Letting them grow up confident and happy involves a monstrous pretence, requiring you to act as if, as far as you're concerned, everything is just fine; that the world is a safe and soft-hearted place.

Occasionally, though, while playing a halting game of Snap with a freshly bathed four-year-old, the aforementioned peanuts in a bowl between you, fatherhood seems a truly enviable office, both effortless and rewarding. This is the small slice of my life I would like the world to see. Look at me, everybody! I'm parenting!

My shameless showboating: Simon Mills
Unfree, scared, father: Tim Lott