The News and the Weather

I think I'm a blog failure. I only update once a month, and usually there are no pictures in which to ogle at. Yes, that definitely identifies me as a failure as a blogger. I hate blog failures. Why even keep a blog if you aren't going to update it with all the many exciting events in your life that make your life seem way more action-packed than most everyone else you know (that is the point of a blog, btw)? So I'm a hypocrite. I've been called worse. Seriously. Probably by you, the person reading this.

I think this month's blog topic is going to call attention to an issue much in need of such attention. The weather. Not the weather itself, but the weather being broadcasted 6 billion times a day on the news.

First off, I love the news. More specifically, I love the Fox evening News. Probably because I love Hope and Bob, and even Sandy who is looking a little more like a drug-addict than a news reporter. I accept Arrika, even though her name is spelled ridiculously and I have a hard time respecting someone who didn't take the initiative to legally change the spelling of such a horribly derailed attempt of an 'original name.' It's disgusting, really. But I digress.

I digress because I'm missing a key player in the Fox evening news. Brett Benson. The meteorologist. I like Brett. I like that he can laugh at himself and he takes the teasing of the anchors in stride. I like that he played 'college ball' and that I can use phrases like 'college ball.' I like the way he looks, the way he talks, and I like the way he does his hair. He seems like a good guy. The problem I have is not with him as a person, but what he does. And same goes for Jodi, Kevin, and the other local meteorologists for news stations.

See, I cannot stand, I repeat, cannot stand the amount of weather they shove down our throats during the evening news. And aside from it being repetitive, it's minutes upon minutes of satellite radar blurps of wind speeds and forecasts on pressure and humidity. No one cares, no one understands it, and no one wants to spend half their night praying Hope or Bob signs Brett out with, "Thanks Brett. That sounds like a bunch of crap I couldn't care less about. Next time, start and end with the seven day forecast and leave it at that. Let's not get fancy with something no one but God himself can predict." That would be refreshing.

So while I'm trying to find out how to avoid bed bugs aside from never going out in public again, I'm being informed through swishes of color and cycling clouds of mist just what the dewpoint is going to be for that night. Its outrageous! I feel like calling the station and giving them a piece of my mind. And after spending an entire day with a one year old who ultimately has decided to embark on a permanent fast, I have a lot of mind to give (literally, the boy maybe eats 300 calories a day. I'm dumbfounded how he's lasted this long). I just want to watch the news without the endless updates of highs and lows and just keep it to a simple, "Tomorrow is going to be cold. The next day not so cold. See you tomorrow."

Nice genetics!

Someone should have told me. Yes, definitely. Someone should have told me that whatever bugs you most about your spouse, your kids will inevitably inherit those same aggravating traits.

Take Josh for instance. He has a horrible gag reflex when anything (i.e. toothbrush) goes too far into his mouth. This, like many of Josh's 'cute' peculiarities, irritates me to no end. So naturally, Rip inherited this. Rip barfs regularly and for no other apparent reason than he stuck his fat little fingers in his mouth. He has an impressive two teeth and he likes to feel them on occasion. This inevitably leads to a vomit attack. Awesome. Spontaneous vomit. Many a night I go into Rippy's room to check on him before I go to bed, only to be greeted by the ranking smell of puke. Josh thinks it's child abuse, but I usually just let him sleep in it until morning. Hey. It doesn't bother him, it doesn't bother me... until I have to clean up dried up puke in the morning. Then it bothers me a lot.

And what about Rip's disinterest in food. I mean, the kid can't be mine since he is most definitely not motivated by food. He likes a snack here and there, but he really is not a great eater and has no real passion for eating. Neither does Josh. Josh is a good eater and eats most everything, but the guy forgets to eat sometimes. Really? I never knew that was possible until I married him. I plan my schedule around mealtimes and even go so far as to plan what that mealtime will entail (yes, I'm disgusting). It drives me absolutely insane when Josh doesn't get excited for good food. He eats quite a bit, but there isn't that intensity and passion that true eaters have. I have it. Rip does not. Josh has failed me. Sometimes I get excited for Rip to try something truly spectacular, only to have him push it out of his mouth, throw it on the floor, and look at me expectantly like, "What else? Got any goldfish crackers?"

But Josh isn't the only one to blame for crappy genetics. I have man child hands (small like a child and masculine like a man, hence, man child hands). My fingers are double jointed as well and so when I point with my pointer finger (index finger?), it sort of bends down. Rip's does the same thing. And his fingers are sausagy like mine. Really. Nice genetics. It doesn't help that Rip is a caveman and rather than trying to use real words he points to everything. He points with his sausage finger and I retrieve what he points at. We have a system.

Ultimately, I think someone should be out there informing the masses that you really need to consider your spouses 'quirks,' because you will be dealing with them in multiples. I know if someone had told me I'm going to have a family of barfies, I might really have reconsidered. Probably not since not many guys would find double-jointed man child hands attractive. I'm not sure Josh does either, but it's a trade off for me putting up with his getting queasy every time he brushes his teeth.

New shoes

Remember when I mentioned the Asay weirdness and that Rip is definitely afflicted with it? Well, he is. And today was further evidence of that fact.

Rip only wears those Robeez shoes. You know, the soft-soled ones that are kind of like slipperish things? Well, anyway, since he walks now and the weather is going to start getting cold, I decided to spend my birthday gift card on some new shoes for the little cretin. So off we went with my mom in tow, to the real happiest place on earth (Disneyland is definitely not that place) -

Nordstrom.

With so many ridiculously cute shoes, I had a hard time picking some but settled on some lime green pumas. Let's just say, they're probably the cutest shoes I've ever seen and I would easily have no problem wearing them myself. Anyway, I find this amazing shoes and put them on Rip. I wasn't too surprised he refused to stand in them, let alone walk. He was used to a moccasin-like shoe, so anything with real soles would naturally be confusing. We all laughed a little, looking how adorable he looked in his cute shoes. But after 10 minutes or so of Rip buckling his fat little legs underneath him and flat out refusing to stand on the incredible shoes, I started to lose patience.

"Seriously? I mean, seriously? Are you suddenly paralyzed? You forget how to walk?" I was so mad 20 minutes later when he was still plopped down on the ground like a 4 month old. He wouldn't even crawl. Both my mom and the sales lady assured me he would inevitably get used to the new shoes and walk again. I'm not so sure.

I brought psycho baby home and tried to get Josh to coax him to walk. Nope. I made Josh show him while he put his own shoes. Nothing. I even tried to lure him with treats, chocolate milk, a balloon, etc. etc. etc. Zip. After screaming, "What is wrong with you?!!" 17 times, Rip managed to cry. He pulled at the Velcro desperately, sure that the shoes were breaking his legs. No Rip. The only thing likely to break your legs is me if you don't start walking in those awesome shoes. I told him that, and yet he still refused to walk.

A whole day later, the kid is still not walking in his shoes. And yes, I made him wear them the entire day, sure he would eventually give up and walk. Nope. Here is a picture depicting what he did most of the day. Nothing. Lots of crying and whining with a whole lot of sitting.

I'm pretty sure he's doing it to drive me crazy. I initially thought he was concerned about the feel of the shoes. Now I know he's doing it out of will and spite. I'm starting to admire his determination, until I look at those green shoes sitting on his useless legs, and then I get mad all over again.

Twice as nice

I know. Nothing for months and then two posts right in a row? You're just that lucky. Anyway, this is a picture post, because my sister told me I was lame for never posting pictures. Well, Meg, I think you're lame, but obviously sort of right since I'm posting pictures now. I hate peer pressure.

Here are some pics from Rip's very first birthday. Rippy really hated the hat. And he had no real interest in the cake really either. Basically, he protested the entire celebration. And yes, his little cake was a tombstone with R.I.P. on it. The other picture is demonstrating my belly. No, I do not typically take belly pictures so this is as close as it is getting.

This group of pictures are from the national sheepdog competition in Midway. It was pretty incredible, and here are just some pics of some of the people there. Rip eventually passed out. I guess seeing dogs herding sheep was just too much excitement for him.These pictures are just random pics of when my sister and I took the kids to a Highland water park place (aka free place with water). I love this picture with Rip and his most favorite cousin, Dax. He really does love Dax best of all.And this is very possibly my most favorite picture ever. Remember how I said Rip has an obsession with pushing every visible object? Well, here he is mowing the lawn with Josh. This was taken just tonight and I have not stopped laughing about the entire thing. See how Rip is helping mow the lawn?

Another boy?

First off, it's been a long time. I have been protesting the internet altogether, for no real reason. I love pointless protests.

Second off, we're having another boy, and boy, am I relieved. Although, when the fake doctor (this guy was a DO, not a MD, really a complete fake, sort of like a chiropractor. Oh, does that offend you? Show me proof that chiropractors are at all legitimate) showed us the ultrasound and we saw the distinguishing marks that make a boy a boy, I was momentarily disappointed. Yeah, figure that one out. Anyway, I'm back on the 'boys are better for people like me' bandwagon, so no worries.

I really have been out of the loop. I guess I should update the world as to Rip's latest developments (if you're shouting 'NOOOOOO!!!!!! Please NOOOOOOOO!!!!' don't worry, I'll keep it to a 17 paragraph minimum and only include 5000000 pictures of Rip doing nothing of real interest). Let us begin.

• Rip walks. True, sort of like a dog does on his hind legs, but he walks and he thinks he's pretty awesome because of it.
• Rip has digressed into a 2 month old with colic. He has decided that crying is now his only means of communication and uses a lot of communication meanwhile hanging onto my legs.
• Rip is 13 months and has only a half of a tooth. This half tooth has been in the works now for something like 4 months. At this rate, Rip will be teething until he's 16.
• Rip generally dislikes most foods. He eats only toast and crackers and is thinking of coming out with a new diet book revealing his findings.
• Rip, like his mom, has no interest in the general population. He truly wants nothing to do with any person aside from me and Josh. It is aggravating, but I must say that I relate. Strangers in the grocery store have no business smiling at us. It's unnerving and if it was at all acceptable to give severely dirty looks at the smiling checkout lady trying to make me laugh, I would too. Until then, I leave it up to Rippy.
• Rip loves books and is constantly bringing me books and trying to climb into my lap. Only problem aside from not allotting my entire day to reading 'That's not my Dinosaur!', I can't stand reading the same 25 books over and over again. It sort of makes me want to blow my brains out.
• Oh, Rip hates his new brother. I only know this because he is obsessed with pulling my shirt up and hitting my bare belly. I would say this is strange behavior, but as Rip's true personality begins to emerge, the weird Asay genes emerge as well. The kid is weird (for anyone out of the loop, my side of the family has some serious weirdness).
• Last off, Rip has an obsession with pushing things. He screams to push the grocery cart, he disrupts sunday school because he's trying to push the metal chairs around, he pushes his high chair through the house, he has even taken to getting behind me and pushing my legs. Yeah. He's a freak.

So there you have it. I can't make any promises to update more often, mostly because I am almost 7 months pregnant and my day is typically not that monumental.

July

Alright. It's time for a massive update. Massive because the month of July was basically the busiest month to hit Normandy (I realize that doesn't actually make sense but I'm banking on at least one other person who reads this to actually be dumber than me. Not likely, but possible).

Anyway, this update will not be including a single picture. Nope. Not one. Why? Because I didn't take any. Why? Because I was raised by Vicky and anyone who knows Vicky knows that taking pictures is for other people's mothers. Every picture from my childhood comes from the single source of Carla, my best friend's mom. She happens to be the exact opposite in regards to photography as my mother, but we'll save that for a separate, more meaningless update.

So no pictures and lots of words equals lots of skimming over most everything. I'm okay with that. In fact, I prefer it.

1. My parents got back from their mission. Holy crap that was a long 3 years. Felt more like 10, but hey. They're home.
   
2. Next was Josh's family's vacation to Southern California. We went to Disneyland (never take any child under the age of 3), went to the beach (Rip worshipped the sand and seagulls), and visited old friends in San Diego. It really was a blast so thank you Barb and Dave!
3. This was my grandma's viewing and funeral. Loved the woman tremendously and am so happy that she is finally back with her family. I knew she was getting ready to go when she stopped referring to people as 'jackasses.' I plan on picking up where she left off.
4. The Beez gets married. That's my sister. She actually goes by the name Beezer Bug Face, but Beez for short. Her hair and makeup were incredible. I wish my hair had looked half as good for my own, but considering I had a huge stye in one of my eyes and it was basically half-shut the entire day, hair was the least of my problems.
   
5. Family pictures. Rip did not behave. I would say that I'm surprised, except that I'm not. He has started the terrible twos a year early. He throws tantrums people. He flings himself on to the floor onto his stomach, puts his head down and starts kicking his fat little legs. II really can't help but laugh. His little fits of rage are so futile. "Ohhh! You're mad? Okay then. I'll let you jump into the 6 ft pool by yourself. What was I thinking?"
   
6. The Asay family reunion. This was also a lot of fun, and would have been even more fun without a certain 11 month old. Rip did not like all the kids in his face, smiling and holding his hands. In fact, he usually tried to bite them, only he doesn't have any teeth so it looked more like an open mouthed kiss. Like a cat without claws, his natural instincts are still intact.
   

Basically, it was a crazy month. We find out in 3 weeks what gender this next baby will be, but I have a sickening feeling it's a girl. Don't want girls. Not yet at least. They seem to have too many feelings. So we'll probably be having a girl, and on top of trantrums, we'll have pouting hurt feelings. Blah. I hate feelings.

Also, Rip has started walking. It isn't too impressive, but he seems to get a little more courageous each day. He does look more like Frankenstein than an actual person, but I'm assuimg that will work itself out.

The devil?

I don't think this is a big surprise to most people, since most people are on facebook (I am among the elite few who consider themselves too cool for facebook), but I'm pregnant. I'm due January 1st, making me about 13 weeks. This was a huge surprise to us, but we're happy about it and will be even happier once baby #2 is no longer a newborn. Have I mentioned I dislike newborns? I know, I know. I'm guaranteed a spot in hell for saying that, and my house will probably be egged for the next few weeks (people still do that right? Sad world if they don't...), but I cannot honestly say otherwise. So take it or leave it.

But I'm finding out more and more the type of opinion people have of me (people who don't really know me) and I guess it needs to be said that I am not the devil himself. Apparently there is some confusion about that. I should clarify. I am mostly joking and am actually a well-adjusted person. I don't really hate the entire human race and I do in fact, love my husband and baby. If you lack what I consider a sense of humor and usually find yourself offended by the end of one of my blog entries, I suggest you stop reading my blog and hope and pray we never meet. I'll probably offend you some more. And probably with my fists.

My friend once told me that her friends read my blog and are always aghast at what I'm writing. I don't understand it. If you don't like it, why read it? I have stopped reading many blogs that I find nauseating and repellent. It's very simple. I just make a conscious effort to not go to their blog site. Self-control people, self-control.

Anyway, enough of that. I mostly want to talk about how if anyone knows anyone else who is also due the beginning of January or end of December, please have them contact me. I want to have the first baby of the year (year's supply of free diapers and like prizes involved), and I need to weed out the competition. I'm thinking of busing them all over to Mexico or something around the delivery time, just so they aren't in the state of Utah when it's time. After all, I undoubtedly deserve this more than anyone else. Naturally. I have to put up with all sorts of hardships and a year's worth of free diapers just might make it all worth it. Please have them email me ASAP. I already hate them.