Nobody comments for poor lonely Somer anymore, huh?  Well you asses can all just eat me, how ’bout that?!?  You thiink you’re better than me?  I DOUBT IT!  Aschlie has an obsession with seeing my son’s socks smeared with poop and Helen…well she’s just weird.  Everybody else…..you…….you smell!  SO THERE!! 

ANYWHO…..We’re going to go to Toys ‘R Us this weekend to get the rest of Lukas’ presents if Grandma Yuenling’s check comes in.  There’s no point in us going to get the toys from us if we have to make another trip out there when her check comes in.  I AM SO EXCITED!  I’ve already got the toys I want to get him picked out.  I think I’m even going to buy him a little Elmo sofa since he can sit up now.  I just want my living room FULL of gifts.  I want to have pictures and people going, "Holy shit!  You guys think you might have overdone it?"  I want to overdo it!  I want to spoil this little boy!  I want him to have super-fond memories of Christmas, even if those memories include me acting like a crackhead.  I just love him so much and want to give him happiness.  Ok….enough of that mushiness.

That stupid office party was cancelled at the last minute and rescheduled for the 19th, which is next Wednesday.  That was kind of annoying.  I’ve been isolated here for so long that I have to do a lot of mental preparation when I know I’m going to have to mingle.  It’s actually really stressful, but I was ready and then it got cancelled.  Dammit.  Now I’ve got to start all over again and tell myself it’s NOT horrible that I have to wear a girdle.  It’s not, right?

Ok, Lukas just woke up from his nap.  He’s in the next room crying for me, so I must go.

My mom every year gets birthday money from Fred’s parents.  It’s always a good amount, seeing how they are Yuenglings, and she usually goes and gets a bunch of clothes.  I was talking to her today and she said that this year she was going to use her birthday money to go to McDonald’s.  This is funny because she could keep herself in burgers for like a 3 months with that money.  Of course, she meant that McDonald’s would only be one of the things she would get.  Since she got with Fred, my poor mom has been cut off from the glorious Golden Arches.  She has had to sever the ties between her and the golden fries and luscious burgers.  How has she managed this?  Now, to be fair, Fred makes homemade burgers that I crave on a daily basis.  They are enormous, juicy, cooked to perfection with just the right combination of toppings (and of course you’d drink a Yuengling beer with it lest you favor throttlings to the ears and face).  This burger is delight…but it’s just not a Big Mac.  Sometimes you just wanna slum it, you know?  You want to turn your nose up at the aristocratic burger from heaven and indulge in an artery clogging burger that makes you regret it five minutes later.  You want to sit in your car in the parking lot and eat that Big Mac with Large sized fries and a DIET coke (don’t wanna get fat or anything) and forget all about that beautiful big burger from home.  You feel the need to associate yourself with the slime of the fast food industry.  When you’re eating this treasure, you’re not thinking of Morgan Spurlock or the lawsuits against McDonald’s for the poor nutrition of their food.  It’s junk food and you know it, and it’s such a guilty pleaure that for a moment you might consider going back for a second burger, but then sense hits you.  You know that you have to keep this thing under control or you might get yourself into trouble.  God speed, Mom.  You go and get yourself a Big Mac and enjoy the hell out of it!

"I don’t care what you say.  Sometimes a Big Mac is good for you!"

Best quote ever, by Lisa Yuengling.

Jim and Tina sent presents through the mail for Lukas.  I thought everybody would send checks and Jessie and I would buy the presents and then tell them what they got, but Jim and Tina sent actual presents.  They are really good with little kids and I can tell that Tina had a vlast with buying all those toys for Lukas.  Now there are a bunch of wrapped gifts under my tree from only them, and I keep thinking about how this was one of the big reasons as to why I wanted to have a family.  I was tired of being the kid at Christmas.  I was tired of not having any little kids go all buggy eyed when they see the wrapped gifts under a lit tree on Chrsitmas morning.  I was tired of it just being us.  Now I have a little boy who is going to have a living room full of gifts on Christmas morning.  He won’t notice, but we’re totally filming it and saving it.  And next year, and the next and next and so on, it will be the same story, only then he will be old enough to have a heart attack.  My mom is sending money and with that and our own moey, we are going on a shopping trip from hell (simply because everybody out here is so friggin stupid) and buying so many gifts that I’m sure our trunk will be full and the backseat will be so full that I’ll need to hold bags on my lap….that’s what I’m hoping for at least.  I’m so excited.  I can’t wait to dress him in his precious little Christmas outfits and take pictures, because this is something that will always be an important event to me and when I’m old and Lukas has grown and started a family of his own..I’ll look back on the first Christmas we spent as a family, and how happy it made me to finally have it.

Jessie has an office Christmas party on Wednesday.  I wasn’t going to go because I’m quite certain I’ll be the fugly there.  However, Jessie kept getting more and more mad at me so I finally agreed to go since we can take Lukas with us.  I went to try on an outift I thought would look nice and I put on the pants…they went up fine.  They fit great in the ass and legs, but I couldn’t even begin to button them in the front because of my poofy belly.  I wonder if my belly would have gone back to normal faster if I had not been a) so huge and pregnant and b) forced to have a c-section.  So you know what I had to do?  I had to go out and buy a girdle!  But you know what?  It sucked in the tummy enough for the pants to fit perfectly.  Even though I’ll be the fugly, my pants will fit.  I may be a fugly, but I am awesome.  Who else will admit that they have to wear a girdle?  Not many people….not many at all!