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Category: The Bloke in The Shed

Vinnie CEO Sleepout: How your perception of winter can change

Firstly, an apology. It’s been a long time since I’ve posted here and, for that, I’m sorry. I promise to visit more often.

I’ve been busy being an Editor of a local newspaper, a community worker in three other roles and, most importantly, a devoted husband and a loving dad to the three princesses.

I’m afraid I’ve neglected my role as The Bloke In the Shed.

Yet I am driven back to it to ask for a favour.

On June 20, I’ll be participating in the Vinnies CEO Sleepout raising funds and awareness for their wonderful programs in assisting the huge number of homeless in our community.

That means me, the night stars and only a piece of cardboard separating my bones and the cement at Launceston’s Aurora Stadium. Some of you may recall Kel mentioning how I’ve never even camped in my life.

Through the newspaper I’ve been able to raise awareness of the cause and this first-class charity. However, I’m a late starter to the event and am behind the goal set for each business leader to raise.

If you can spare a dollar or two – and I mean just even a dollar or two – please donate. But it’s not a problem at all if you can’t.

If you know others who might be interested in supporting the cause, you can share the link to my profile http://www.ceosleepout.org.au/ceos/tas-ceos/julian-obrien.

Thanks in anticipation and I promise to not be a stranger. I may even post on the night!

June 10, 2013
Some people don’t deserve kids

By Julian O’Brien

It was a typically wild winter day in Tassie and no other car was silly enough to be parked in the local playground car park. It was deserted.

I wasn’t there to play on the swings in the driving rain and freezing wind. No, a recently discovered fetish for running and exercise meant I was spending a rare weekday off, in weather which I’d only seen on crab-fishing reality TV shows from the North Atlantic, by doing a casual 12km run.

Yet it was not the run that was to cause me concern. Aside from being a launching point for the run that day, this park had a special place for our family and we were regular visitors…. albeit when the weather was a tad better.

It was only back from my run, which I enjoyed by the way, my mood changed. On returning to the park, I could see another car parked not far from mine. Not that strange. What was strange though was there was a young boy not much older than our Princess Ella running around the play equipment in the Antarctic weather in just a t-shirt and jeans unsupervised.

The real issue

As I neared my car I could see a male and two females in the other car and that eased my mind – but only temporarily. Strapping on my seatbelt and looking to reverse, I spied out of the corner of my eye the female passenger lift a bong to her mouth, breathe in and exhale in the car. Well, that explained the “unsupervised” thing.

I shook my head and continued reversing, but to my horror I watched as the kid ran from the playground and jumped straight into the back seat which only moments before had resembled the set of a Cheech and Chong movie. The driver in the other car started his engine and THEY started to reverse.

A parent’s values

Now, I’m no prude and I’ve had my share of “life experiences” but if having children taught me one thing it was I needed to take more responsibility for the sake of the souls I’d chosen to bring into this world. I was livid. I drove slowly out of the car park long enough to block the other car and report the incident and vehicle to a mate in the local police station.

I took no joy or pleasure from that and there are still days I wonder about that little bloke in that car, hoping to God he is receiving the parenting every kid deserves. Do I feel guilty about what I did? Not on your life.

What it did reinforce to me was that not everyone views parenting the way myself and Kel do and maybe, just maybe, we have to make a stand in our own communities at times to right that balance.

What would you have done in the same situation?

October 26, 2012
Lessons for Blokes No. 3: Always read the instructions

Writing a manual for Dad!

Never been big on reading instructions. Guess I’ve figured if they print them in type that small then they are probably not worth reading, right?

Where I’ve discovered a possible exception to that rule – instructions on medicine.

A couple of weeks back Princess Ella wasn’t feeling well. She was complaining of a sore stomach and we’d determined that was because it was an inordinate amount of time since she’d been to the toilet. Instructions came that I was to buy some medicine to encourage a trip to the toilet before returning from work.

As instructed, I returned from work with said medicine and I was smart enough to read the required quantity before administering it.

Only after delivering the medicine did I read this: “It may take 6-8 hours to take effect’’.

Now, I’d administered the medicine at 6pm.
Oh crap. Literally.
I thought, I’m gonna be up in the middle of the night with Ella when this kicks into gear.

Sure enough, at 2am the call from Ella comes. We stagger into the bathroom and she proceeds to explode. I’m sitting on the floor, she’s sitting on the toilet and I’m saying “Are you finished yet?”. A feeble “nooooo’’ is the answer I get on repeated occasions.

Sitting there on the cold, hard floor of the bathroom I then vow ALWAYS to read the instructions.

Is not reading the instructions a male thing? Do you read the instructions?

August 8, 2012
Has respect been lost?

The Bloke in The Shed appeared on Today Tonight last night, as part of a story on the Show Some Respect campaign he has been pushing in his role as Advocate newspaper Editor.

The idea for the campaign came about after witnessing vision of a police officer having to resort to using pepper spray on a teenager, along with the rising level of verbal abuse and assaults on emergency workers. The North West Coast of Tasmania is no different to anywhere else in Australia in dealing with these issues. However, the difference is they’re trying to create some change and bring back respect.

Click to watch the story (and yes, that’s The Bloke in The Shed in the still)…

What do you think? Have young people lost respect for our front-line workers – police, ambulance officers, firies, teachers and nurses? What is our responsibility as parents?

And did anyone else grow up in absolute fear of the thought of having to encounter a police officer? *shudders*

July 31, 2012
A father’s tears

By Julian O’Brien

Last week I broke down in tears. It’s a simple sentence, but not an easy one to write.

The reason? Princess Ella’s first kindy school cross country.

You see, Ella had a rough night before and was starting to show signs of the winter ills that had gripped our household, but we decided to send her to school anyway as she was excited about the run.

I rolled up to school later in the day to watch Ella run. There was a freezing wind around the school ground and there was poor little Ella looking pale and frozen awaiting the run.

A couple of times she came over to me complaining of how cold she was, but I sent her diligently back to her class mates, despite growing in concern.

Eventually, they got the kindy girls race started. Ella got out of the blocks quickly over the first 20 metres and then faded in a heap. She stopped to a walk while the others ran on. It doesn’t help that she is the tiniest in her class, but the 450 metres must have felt like kilometres to her.

Ella struggled to half way (with all the other kids in the home straight). When she saw me, she went to come to me and I encouraged her on. Gamely she battled on and by then kids from older classes who had been marshalling the other littlies had all dropped back to help Ella on.

About 100 metres out from the line, Ella reached into her pocket and wiped her nose constantly until the end of the race. I was waiting at the finish line and wrapped her up in a big cuddle, reassuring her with “I am so proud of you for not quitting, darlin’’.

“Can I come home with you, daddy,’’ was the reply.

I returned Ella to her classmates and jokingly said to the teacher that I’d probably be back to pick her up in an hour judging by her health. Sure enough, the call came and I returned her home to Princess Kel.

Waiting till Ella was safely lying prone on the couch and out of listening distance, I went to tell Kel about what had happened and just broke down. It broke my heart to see Ella, who was later diagnosed with both an ear and chest infection, battle like that and to think we’d put her in that situation.

Yet on my return from work that night, Kel relayed a conversation which filled my heart with joy.

Kel asked Ella how the run went.

“I was a bit slow,’’ was Ella’s reply. “But daddy was so proud of me for not giving up.’’

I certainly was, darlin’.

July 26, 2012
{The Shed} When your children are chalk and cheese

Chalk and cheese, Carlton and Collingwood, wine and water or Ford and Ferrari. It is a pleasure to be the father of two girls who are completely different in personality. Now I’m not saying one is better than the other. Just different.

Ella has been daddy’s little girl from the moment she was born four years ago. Again, she and her mum are very close, but – much to mum’s disgust – Ella knows she has me wrapped around her little finger and uses that advantage unmercifully.

Little Holly is another story. Due to the fact I’ve spent much of her lifetime getting Ella “out of mum’s hair” it has taken Holly and I time to develop the same formidable bond.

Recently, she has become enormously affectionate – spontaneously wrapping me in bear-like hugs and planting long, wet sloppy kisses on me at will. Those moments make me deliriously happy.

What I love about my two “little girls” are their differences. Perhaps, like many first kids, Ella has been over protected and as a result is a bit of a wuss, scared of any height above my shoulder height and – in the nicest way – a bit of a sook.

Holly, on the other hand, has no fear. We played a practical joke on the girls at Easter disguising chocolate as rabbit poo and while Ella looked on in disgust, Holly was filling her face with said “droppings’’. Typical “second child syndrome”.

Recently we took both girls to the opening of a new children’s play centre in a city close by and the differences of the girls were on show. Ella (4 ½) wanted no bar of the big three-humped slide – even with mum or dad.

Holly (18 months) not only flew down the slide with mum and dad on each occasion, but wanted more and would stage a countdown at the top of the slide: “Eddy, Set, Ghooooo’’.

You all have read plenty about Ella on this blog. Holly is her fearless, stubborn, determined, individualistic and contented sibling.

We love them both as individuals and more importantly (despite the occasional hair-pulling incident) they love each other.

What sort of relationship do you have with your kids? Are they like chalk and cheese?

June 8, 2012