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!