Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals

Merry Christmas!!!!! Well we just had Paddy's first Christmas in the UP of Michigan and I must say... It. Was. Amazing. I had so much fun hanging out and drinking with my family for the holidays. I gave them all their homemade Christmas presents early so everyone had a Monster Mash Christmas on Christmas Eve. Oh my god, it was so much fucking fun. Because this winter has unseasonably warm so far, we couldn't go snomobiling at all or skiing for that long. So one keg and several cases of beer later, we partied! And holy shit do the O'Ds know how to fucking party. I will never forget this trip or how much fun I had on it.

A Monster Mash Christmas!

  Patman had his first Christmas!! Absolutely loved it. Due to the excessive amounts of toys he already has, I had made him a dinosaur hoodie and a Batman blanket. He loved both. But what I was really excited about was giving Pat another Xbox after his first one got ruined in the flood. I and the rest of my family gave him a Star Wars Xbox and Paddy had gotten him a game for it. He was so excited about them, I think it made me more happy than the presents I received. Dude works so hard every day for Paddy and I, it makes me so happy to give him something he really wants. I fucking love that man :)

   Well, on that note, I better sign off. Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal. And a Happy New Year!

On His 22nd Birthday

Pat and I have a bet going. Pat bet Paddy will be '6"8 or over and I bet he"ll be '6"7 or shorter by his 22nd birthday.

There is $20 riding on this, son. Please make me proud.

My Morning So Far

4:13 am - Paddy is crying hysterically, so I feed him a bottle.

4:33 am - Put Paddy back to bed.

5:57 am - Paddy is crying hysterically, so I feed him a bottle.

6:12 am - Bring Paddy back to my bed in hopes he and I can get some more sleep.

6:30 am - Due to excessive humping of Pat's pillow and repeatedly knocking on the window, Paddy successfully convinces me to just get the fuck out of bed.

6:32 am - Paddy pulls the Christmas tree down on top of himself. I pick him up and realize he stinks.

6:33 am - Go to change him and realize (after putting my hand in his pajamas)  that he took a massive shit. Everywhere. NOT just in his diaper. I shout " Please God, no!!."

6:33 - 7:15 am - Project "Rid My House of Poo" commences. This includes a bath for Paddy, a shower for me, a load of laundry in the washer, taking out a bag of dirty diapers, and Paddy pulling down the Christmas tree on top of him again.

7:16 am - I put on a pot of coffee. Something tells me I should make it extra strong today.

7:17 am - Come back in the living room to find the tree down again and Paddy humping the angel that used to be on top of the tree.

It is currently 7:36 am. I wish I had some whiskey to put in my coffee.

Crawling

   Well, Paddy McGee is crawling. I was pretty proud of him crawling at first since he was only 6 months old. It lasted about 5 minutes. Dude is into everything! He's oddly facinated with the DVR, so that's usually the first place he'll go when I put him on the floor. That is, unless he's distracted by anything with a cord. Or just generally anything expensive. Pat's been trying to encourage him walking now too. Something I most definitely am not. Paddy can learn to walk on his own, the sooner he walks, the sooner he gets into my shit. The sooner he gets into my shit, the sooner I call my baby an asshole again. And I really don't want to call Paddy an asshole. So crawling it is!

   I finally went to get my hair cut and dyed last week. I realized the fat-midwestern-housewife look wasn't really working for me. The last time I went to the salon was before Paddy was born. So I had roots from over SEVEN months ago! Holy sheep shit, it looked terrible. Since my hair is usually in a knot on the top of my head, I guess I just didn't realize how bad it was getting. But now, I have beautiful, luxurious, and (completely) blonde hair. Yay me!

My Little Humper

  My little guy is on the verge of crawling. I have learned that this stage of pre-crawling is simply and utterly... fantastic. Paddy has taken to getting up on all fours and just rocking back and forth. If you can picture that, then you know what it looks like... Paddy is a humper! Dude has been humping all over the place for the past week! One strategically place stuffed animal equals five minutes of straight laughter from me. Even standing up, he humps! He humped the ottoman, diaper bag, and couch yesterday alone. The man is relentless. I spend my days thinking of different things I can either put him on or stand him against to hump. My favorites? Jar of peanut butter, Elmo, and Pat's pillow. The possibilities are endless.

   My future mother-in-law just dropped off a Bears winter hat from the 1980s for Paddy. It. Is. Amazing. Paddy wore it the entire time we watched the Bears fucking KILL the Chargers today. I've been telling people that the Bears won the Super Bowl the year I was born, it is only natural that the Bears win again the year I have an offspring. So with the Bears offense, defense and Paddy's new lucky hat... SUPER BOWL BABY!!!

   Pat and I had a good ole fashioned drink-till-you-shit-the-bed night yesterday (there was no shitting the bed though, just super stinking drunk.) It all started with an innocent visit to Buffalo Wild Wings for breakfast. Three tall Blue Moons later, Pat is driving home while I convince him of all of the good reasons why we should keep drinking (by 'good reasons' I mean discussing how delicious beer is). Well since I remembered I have a child to care for, drinking slowed down considerably. But as soon as Wee Paddy hit the sheets, I hit the bottle (I'm clever!). Pat and I got friggen wrecked. It was amazing, just like old times. Since having a kid, we've aged considerably but last night we listened to music, high-fived a lot, talked, watched 30 Rock, boned (sorry mom!), and then drank some more! Luckily we have a kid that likes to sleep 13+ hours in a night and allowed me some time to recover before waking up to hump everything in sight. All in all a terrible morning, but an super duper night.

Happy Thanksgiving!

3 and 1/2 hours

   That is how long it took me to install Paddy's new car seat. Three and a half fucking hours. Pretty sure I called that car seat every name under the sun. What should have taken 5 minutes, took over three hours because when putting it in my car, one of the straps got twisted, and since it was twisted, it wouldn't lock. Thus beginning my morning of hell. One friggen twisted strap.
   So after trying to untwist it for 10 minutes outside (in 30 degree weather wearing my pajamas), I had to lug it back inside. There, I recruited Paddy to help (read: he chewed on another strap because the car seat was being a BITCH!). He did a fantastic job, I was very proud of him. Five  episodes of Park and Rec later, strap is untwisted! Brought it back outside and installed it in less than a minute.

   All in all, I am very glad Paddy cannot talk yet. Or else, after today, I'm positive his first word would be 'fuckface'.  Or 'asshead'.

My Gigantic Baby

   So today I have discovered two things: 1. Babies do not keep the same car seat their entire baby life and 2. Paddy outgrew his car seat and needs a new one yesterday. Usually babies can keep their infant car seats until they're about 1 and then they move into other car seats made for toddlers. Unless you're my son, and need a toddler car seat at age 6 months. Sigh. This realization hit me in the most obvious way, realizing I was seriously squishing Paddy's crotch trying to buckle him in his car seat in my mom's car so she could drive my dad and I to the bar. Since I want a Paddy #4 someday, smashing my son's balls for a lengthy car ride did not seem like a good idea.
   So after the bar and several Guinnesses (Guinnessi?) later, I'm home and trolling the internet for toddler car seats. Those fucking things are like 200 bucks! Seriously contemplated squeezing his balls in his infant car seat for a bit longer, but eventually decided against it. I'm betting Paddy would never forgive me if I castrated him if we got into an accident. So in efforts to save money, I found one I liked, then bought it used from eBay. But if I discover this car seat is for sale because it was in a car accident and is delivered with blood on it, I am going to be seriously pissed.

5 Things that Should Not Be Said to a 6 Month Old

1. "Shut the fuck up"
   -Yep, totally said this one today. In fairness, Paddy has learned how to 'moan' whenever I put him down. By 'moan' I mean a CONSTANT whine while staring at me with his hands up so I pick him up. This has led me to go certifiably crazy. I feel like I can hear this whining in my sleep. I'm trying the tough love approach and not picking him up so he learns a bit of independence, but so far this is not working. At all. So today I actually told him to please "shut the fuck up." At least I said please.

2. "Wow! You haven't spit up in two days!"
   -He then immediately spit up.

3. "Quit playing with your dingy"
   -Paddy has a habit of sitting in his play thing and putting both his hands in front of him down into the seat. Seriously looks like he's doing a little jingle in his jangle, if you know what I mean. So obviously I see this as a perfect opportunity for a Tommy Boy reference.

4. "Don't eat that"
   -He WILL eat it. Every. Single. Time.

5. "Asshole"
   -No, I am not proud of this one. But what would you say if your baby pooped into your hands while changing his diaper TWO days in a row. Why is the second the diaper is off, the perfect time to take a shit? And what would you say to your baby when it sneezes in your face? AND WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO YOUR BABY IF HE ATE YOUR KOHLS COUPON??? HUH? Don't judge me.



Happy Friday, everyone!

Happy Halloween!

Well another successful Halloween this year! And by successful, I mean hiding out in my house with all the curtains drawn because I don't want anyone to know I'm home because I forgot to buy Halloween candy. And yes, I did mute the tv so the trick-or-treaters couldn't hear me sitting inside watching Netflixed Gossip Girl. (You know, the time honored Halloween tradition of watching Gossip Girl.)

I'm terrible.

But, in my defense, only two groups of kids came knocking at my house. And I did dress Paddy up so my mom could see him. No trick-or-treating for me though, I don't think I'm fooling anyone by pretending all the candy I'm collecting is for my 6 month old who can't eat solid food yet.

 

Paddy the Dragon

So a pretty tame Halloween all around this year. Didn't go out or even dress up. I did have a costume in mind though. Paddy was Norbert the Dragon from Harry Potter, which obviously makes me Hagrid. But that would mean I'd have to find a way for me to look like a middle aged, magical, half-giant man. So I didn't fucking feel like it. And seriously, who has time to dress up when there is two more seasons of Gossip Girl to catch up on. (Not even embarrassed that I'm watching Gossip Girl. That show is so phenomenally bad, it's fantastic. And Chuck Bass? THEE most awesome character I have ever witnessed in television history - not even exaggerating. I even cried at Eleanor Waldorf's wedding! I think I need help! Can't. Stop. Watching.)

So I ended the night with Paddy going to bed an hour early, and Pat coming home from work with drinks and a dozen roses for me. Gotta love a man that buys roses 'just because.' 

Happy Halloweenie, everyone! 

Happy Monday!

So Paddy usually takes naps that are about 30 minutes long. Every once and a while a bit longer, but never really longer than an hour. Today, we have just passed the 3 hour mark of his first nap. I honestly don't even know what to do with myself. Thought I'd really enjoy the day my son would take a long ass nap. But I find myself going into his room every ten minutes to put my hand on his back to make sure he's still breathing. So much for relaxing.

Things I have done in the 3 hours Paddy has been sleeping:
1. Tried my wedding dress
2. Became angry that I can't zip it up
3. Made a mega diet plan
4. Ate a half a block of cheese while making the diet plan
5. Started writing the script for my wedding.
6. Stopped writing the script with I started crying too much to be able to read what I wrote.
7. Drank a pot of coffee
8. Made a pile of clothing that needs to be washed.
9. Used pile of clothing as a foot stool while I watched the Colbert Report reruns.
10. Came to the conclusion after watching a half of one episode, that Entourage is a stupid show
11. Seriously contemplated trying my wedding dress on again.
12. Seriously contemplated washing some dishes.
13. Opted for laying on the couch instead.

That's about it. A fine Monday morning if you ask me.

Third Post (Can you see the Trend Here?)

Hello everyone! I am a much happier person as my cold is starting to go away finally. Maybe MAYBE I won't be using 'fuck' quite so often anymore! But don't get your hopes up.

   So every morning Paddy gets up and 6:30, I feed him, and then can sometimes can get him to go back to bed. So today being a cold rainy icky day, it'd be a perfect morning to sleep in. So my alarm clock son got up at 6:30 and I fed him. Brought him back to my bed where we could have some quality mother-son time and cuddle and take a small nap together. This is what I thought would happen.
   Here's what actually happened. Paddy puked twice (on Pat's pillow, so I'm not too worried about it.) Then took a massive dump that not only seeped out the back of his diaper, but made it's way onto my bed. So instead of that nap I was looking forward to, I had to give my son a bath, change him, put the bed sheets in the wash, and put new sheets on the bed. This is my proof that sometimes, just sometimes, even 5 month olds can be assholes.

   But now he's happy as can be in his door jumper making, what I can only describe as, bird screeching noises. But I can't blame him, I'd probably feel as light as a bird too if I took the dump he took this morning. I'm surprised he's not floating.

   I have an eye doctor appointment this morning. I realized I had to go to the eye doctor when I couldn't read my dvr anymore. Sad but true. However, my parents are working and so is Pat. So off to the doctor with Paddy it is! I can almost guarantee a blog post later at the HIGHlarity that will ensue at the doctor office.

Second Post!

   My brother pointed out the fact that I used the word 'fuck' a few too many times in my last post. I guess I should rein that in a bit. But I really don't fucking feel like it. I gotta get it out now while Paddy can't talk.

   So instead of teaching my son important things like sitting up on his own or eating solid foods, I am currently schooling him on the art of zombie movies for Halloween. We watched 28 Days Later last night - my current favorite - and we're watching the Walking Dead marathon on tv now. My only problem with Walking Dead? WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL THE ZOMBIES?? This is so friggen terrible, I have no idea why people like it so much. Paddy needs to learn to both fear and respect the zombie, and he can't do that if an hour long show features zombies for less that 4 minutes. How the fuck is he going to cart my fat ass to safety when the zombie apocalypse comes? THESE ARE THINGS EVERY MOTHER SHOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT.

My First Post!

   I have decided to enter into the twentieth century (a decade later) and write my own blog! How exciting for all of you! I decided to be very honest with my blog - a gritty southside Chicago account of growing up from a partier to a mom. Two VERY different roles, so I've learned.

   This won't be a blog that obsessed over every shit my son takes and analyzes it. I want to give you an account of my life as a mom, not the life of a baby. Let's be honest, babys' sleep, shit, and eat. Let's not pretend that every milestone my son reaches is the end all be all of baby milestones.

   On the other side, I do have the cutest, most adorable baby to ever cross the planet ever in the history of the universe. If you don't agree, fuck you. You're stupid.


  So here we go. Not too sure on how to start out this blog but to give you a little info. My son's name is Paddy. My husband Pat and I are already married (took the classy way and eloped to Las Vegas) but are having our big wedding in 2012. We actually didn't know I was pregnant when we married, we had eloped for insurance reasons. Two weeks after our trip to Vegas...  I'm super friggen pregnant! And just a bit nervous because I drank A LOT in Vegas. But eight wonderful (read: terrible for Pat) months later, we have a boy Paddy. Fell in love immediately. He was perfect.
   Then I brought him home...


   Let's be clear, I have always loved my son. But holy shit did I need sleep after that first week. Little did I know, it's five months later and I still need some of that sleep. But a little more used to motherhood and a little more used to being a housewife.
   So I'm a funny bitch and thought it would be fun to keep a blog of my life as a first time housewife and mother. Interested? keep reading. Not? Fuck off :)