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Category: The Bloke in The Shed

  • Lesson for Blokes No. 2: Oh No! It’s in the genes!

    Lesson for Blokes No. 2: Oh No! It’s in the genes!

    sleep
    Ella as she was dressed at the beginning of the night.

    LET’S put it bluntly. Princess Kel, like many other wives out there I’d suggest, has a problem making decisions.

    However, it’s an affliction which only seems to affect her under certain conditions. For example, say if Kel was the President of the USA and the world was on the brink of global warfare, she’d know what to do in an instant:  She’d assess the situation, look at the button marked “NUCLEAR’’ and make the right call.

    Yet, put Kel in a fashion clothing store and ask her to go wild, she’d go through the entire store three times and still be unsure of what to do (seriously, I have spent an entire day shopping with her to see Kel buy just one item). The other day, normally a perfectly rational person, I saw her completely stress out over what to wear for a picture and change her top on several occasions.

    Well, it appears it runs in the family and, as a bloke in a family with three girls, I fear the path that lies ahead. Princess Ella has gotten into the habit of getting out of a bed  early in the evening, deciding her pyjamas are not appropriate attire and donning something from her “dress ups’’ box.

    Last night I got to tuck Ella in and here she is sound asleep wearing pink tights and her ballet dress. I tuck my tiny dancer under the covers. At 4.30am I hear a scream from Ella’s room: “Dddddddaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaadddd’’. I run to her, only to be faced with a teary ballerina saying: “I can’t sleep without my pyjamas on’’.

    Despite my pleas and having woken the whole household, Princess Ella does not settle till she changes completely BACK into her PJs. God help me. Like mother, like daughter.

    Do you struggle with decision making?

     

  • SHED: How to pick a winner

    SHED: How to pick a winner

    We refrained from showing a photo of her picking her nose!

    BABY Holly has developed a disturbing habit – this is one thing I know, for sure. No, it’s not her habit of passing wind or pooing religiously at every tea time (although that is disturbing). No, at only nine months, she has learned the art of picking her nose.

    And this just isn’t any accident either. Her movements are slow and calculated. Her index finger slowly extends and calmly heads towards her nostril of preference where it quickly embeds itself. Then the index finger is slowly removed, making its way south to become lost in the abyss of Holly’s eating cavity.

    Now, if that wasn’t disturbing enough, it gets worse. The other day I was sharing a lovely moment with Holly – she was on the floor on her back and I was giving her kisses on her cheek.

    At one point I sat back a bit and she looked deeply into my eyes. “She really loves me,’’ I thought foolishly. It was then her index finger, which had been resting on my face, extended. Slowly it made its way to my nostril, as I sat frozen in disbelief. Then she pulled it out and tried to stick it in her mouth, only for me to wake from my trance, to save it millimetres from her lips.

    Since then, she has become a nose picking machine and at any opportunity will try to pick the nearest available nose. The experts say all baby behaviour is learned. So I am blaming Ella, who has turned picking her nose into a secret society akin to the Greek mafia.

    Ella will disappear for moments or skulk behind your back at a quiet moment to mine her nasal passages discreetly. Not sure where Ella learned it from though…

    Is your child a nose picker? What do you do to deter your child from this terrible habit?

    I’m linking up with Shae from Yay For Home as part of Things I Know. Click on the button to read other great posts on the topic.

  • SHED: All from a sneaky kiss

    SHED: All from a sneaky kiss

    THIS week I was honoured with the editorship of The Advocate Newspaper. It’s the paper I grew up reading as a kid (mostly comics and the footy achievements of my brothers). It’s so much more than that though. It’s where I met Princess Kel.

    Despite growing up in neighbouring towns, Kel and I were not destined to meet till that one day I happened to walk into the then Editor’s office as a young cadet to find this pretty little thing sitting there. Kel doesn’t remember that moment. I do. Like it was yesterday.

    In those early days at the newspaper, our lives were heading in different directions… till events made us realise our shared feelings. A sneaky kiss in the newspaper’s file room (which funnily enough is now the IT dept) sealed the deal.

    From then on, while being different individually, we have been almost as one. Our strengths and weaknesses complement each other. There is no doubt my sometimes over-the-top personality helped Kel evolve from a shy, young journo into a confident writer, while I would not be an Editor today without her calming hand and sound, measured advice.

    Yet, our greatest achievement has nothing to do with the newspaper directly. It is the two princesses we have been blessed with – Ella and Holly. Whatever you achieve in your working life is great, but it can never supersede what you have as a family.

    Follow me on Twitter at @Julian_OBrien or the TLP blog on Facebook.

  • SHED: Fearing my girls are growing all too fast

    SHED: Fearing my girls are growing all too fast

    THERE used to be two things in life I was scared of – spiders and swiveling around on the toilet to discover there was no toilet paper. Now it’s three things. Yes, now I am scared my li’l princesses are growing up way too fast. Not Kel, as she has achieved her vertical capacity in life and is destined only to shrink with age. No, the other two – Princesses Holly and Ella.

    Holly is growing up quickly, despite having a serious allergy (she is allergic to sleep and if Kel doesn’t get a sleep through soon it could well be a life-threatening condition). It only seems like yesterday Holly was born (have I mentioned before she was born the day after a Collingwood premiership? I have? Oh, good). While it has been a hard slog with her aversion to sleep, it’s hard to believe she’s come from being a newborn to now looking at you with an understanding that only a developed littlie can.

    Recently I’ve been trying to teach Holly how to do “kisses”. I can see Holly processing it as she sits there like a fish, mouth open, giving me sloppy “kisses’’ while obviously thinking “for god sake, go and brush your teeth, man’’. In one recent “kisses’’ lesson I was too enthusiastic and we ended up butting heads. It shocked me as she looked at me, paused for a second, then screwed up her face and broke up in uncontrollable tears as if to say “you stupid idiot, that really hurt’’.

    As for Ella, she’s three going on 13. She already rules the house. Yet we forgive her because she has a personality which is entertaining, addictive and downright hilarious. Her inquisitive mind already has me stumped and dammit it is frustrating.

    “But how does it work, Daddy?’’. I don’t know, darlin’.

    “Where does the moon go during the day, Daddy?’’. I think it goes for chicken nuggets at Maccas, darlin’.

    “Why do boys have scoody-doodies Daddy?” Go ask your mother.

    Oh well, Kel and I have accepted this is our lot in life. And truth be told, we wouldn’t have it any other way.

  • Lessons for Blokes No. 1: Be careful what you ask

    NEVER, I repeat NEVER, ask your wife if she wants you to pick something up from the supermarket before you come home. Listen to the voice of experience.

    Yesterday I emailed Princess Kel asking if she wanted me to pick up some steak for tea before I came home. What followed was, well, you might as well read for yourself:

    “Yep, can do. While you’re there, can you get:

    * milk

    * pumpkin

    * wipes

    * nappies (if on special)

    * apples

    * Be Natural cereal

    * baby rice

    Don’t worry about eggs, we have a whole carton + couple in a second carton.’’

    Far out. Was I sorry for asking.

    I’d previously had the whole trip home planned in my mind. I’d figured, a quick trip into the supermarket, home in five minutes, cuddles with girls, crack a cold beer, help feed and bathe the girls and settle into the couch for some tellie.

    How wrong was I? Serves me right I guess.

    Joining in with FlogYoBlog Friday over at Where’s My Glow.
    FYBF

  • SHED: I know a bad omen when I see one

    SHED: I know a bad omen when I see one

    View from the seat at the MCG

    AS A mad Magpie attending his first Collingwood live game since the little princesses were born,  I knew it was gonna be a long day when the first person I saw at the ground was Geelong premiership captain Tom Harley.

    Maybe, just maybe, if the next person I saw was Collingwood premiership captain Nick Maxwell things might be alright, I thought. I turned the corner … and there was Joffa – Collingwood’s comic-like cheer squad leader. Crap.

    Earlier in the afternoon I’d left Princess Kel and the li’l princesses after a long day of shopping to make their way back to the Medina Grand, while I jumped onto a tram on Flinders St to get to the MCG.

    A view of the city from the MCG walkway

    It was a bitterly cold evening and Kel was concerned I did not have a jacket, despite shopping for one all afternoon. In stark contrast to how it normally works (I’m the shopper of the family), Kel had seemingly bought half of Melbourne and I’d bought nothing.

    “Julian, you’ll freeze,’’ was Kel’s parting comment as I kissed her, assuring her I’d be OK. It was on arrival at the MCG I spotted the merchandise stand. “Got any Collingwood jackets?’’ I enquired, as the lady proceeded to unveil a sparkling new Magpie waterproof, lined polar fleece jacket.

    Entrance to the 'G

    I rang Kel: “Want the good news or the bad news?’’

    “What?’’ she replied, suspiciously.

    “Well, I’m not gonna freeze anymore … I bought a Collingwood jacket and it only cost me $100 … Hello? Kel? … Are you still there?’’ Bonus.

    Princess Kel bought me the ticket to the game as a Christmas present (actually she didn’t buy the ticket, she just said I could go). I organised the ticket, which looked on paper a bloody good seat, through an equally mad Magpie workmate. With much excitement, I raced to my seat to check the view only to discover it was right on the fringe of the Geelong cheer squad. Sent a scathing text message to my workmate. Double crap.

    Among my new Geelong “friends''.

    Oh well, best enjoy the night anyway. To my surprise I found the surrounding Geelong supporters bloody nice people (thus disproving my previously held theory about Cat supporters). I enjoyed the game and had a ball despite the eventual Magpie loss, roaring myself hoarse (which Kel would have been most embarrassed about had she been there).

    My beloved Pies were pretty ordinary on the night but, had Geelong lost, their supporters could have felt more ripped off than the MCG patrons who pay $8 for a mid strength beer.  I raced home, still buzzing from the experience, to the comfort of our hotel room and the li’l princesses sound asleep. Magic.

    Tell us about your best experience at a sporting event.