My name is Lindsay O'Quinn and although I am a mother, and this is my blog, I would be very resentful if you decided to call me a "mommy blogger", because this is not a mommy blog, and because I (very rarely) pimp out my son in order to gain readership.  Most of the time I just write about my own neuroses.  
I was raised in Hamilton Ontario, a shithole I promised myself I would leave my whole life, and just never did.  Somewhat tragic, but also poetic, as I now consider it the most wonderful place in the world to make friends and buy really awesome Chuck Taylors.  I went to high school at Sir Winston Churchill, and never made one single good friend the entire time I was there, because I was a late bloomer and people thought I was weird and slutty; I was socially awkward and always had a boyfriend.  I graduated with really awesome grades and went to McMaster University where I majored in English and dropped out after 2 years because I was lonely and I wasn't being challenged (but still maintaining those really awesome grades).  I do not believe at all in formal education, but I will never tell my son that because I expect him to learn the same harsh lessons and be in debt his entire adult life, just like mommy.
I waded in the shallow end of young adult mediocrity for several years, during which I did some drugs, did a lot of drinking, quit many jobs, took lots of medication, lived on my own in a lime green apartment I was almost evicted from a few times and partied hard.  This was all in another life, and I'm really glad I came out the other end of the whole thing in one piece, and without any chemical-dependency issues.  I was a famous bartender in this city and for a while, I knew every single alcoholic there was to know, and I knew some famous singers and songwriters who turned out to be very unimpressive in person.  I highly recommend being artistic, free-spirited and self-destructive in your formative years because it builds character and makes you more interesting and wise.  I will also never tell my son this, and plan on sending him to Brat Camp if I ever find pot under his bed.  I am a dichotomy, you could say.  
I met my 'husband' (although we are still too lazy to plan a wedding and actually solidify the arrangement) at a wedding some years ago, and it was love at first sight.  It really was, that wasn't just a lead-in to another lame joke.  We finally got together in 2009 and I got knocked up 6 months later.  My party girl days were over.  But it was hardly a difficult transition.  I took to motherhood like a duck takes to water.
Living with me while I was pregnant was probably a miserable experience for Mike, but he handled it like a pro.  I craved lemony desserts and refused to have sex.  On March 28th 2010, I gave birth to the sweet, sweet treasure that is Carter Bowles.  Nicknames include Mowgli, Punk, Chicken Nugget and Stinky Poo Bum.  Having a son completely transformed the very core of my heart and soul and now I am such a mommy.   I chase him around for kisses and hugs, know the Thomas theme song word for word, and deny him nothing his small heart desires.  Women in his future will have a hard time measuring up to me, and I'm okay with that.  
I mentioned medication earlier.  I suffer, and probably always will, to some extent, from Major Depressive Disorder.  I make a point of always advocating for those who suffer from some form of mental illness, and this has become a passion of mine and a very powerful tool in battling my own illness.  I am currently taking some time for myself to be with my wonderful family and see if there is anything else I wish to do besides mix drinks and hobnobble with lonely drunks in the middle of the night.  So far, I've had no luck.  

Read my blog, love me or hate me, send me some e-mail if you have anything to say.  I love every single person who reads my blog and I hope I make you laugh, cry, and think seriously about broadcasting your own personal life.  

By the way, there was a blog before this blog, and you can find it here.  It was the party-girl days, and there are lots of posts about being hungover and stupid in that one.  Good stuff.
Or of course there's Twitter.  I promise I will tweet more.  

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