Snippets

A few people have sent me this super interesting article on identical twins, and nature vs nurture vs epigenetics. Incidentally, this also reminds me how much I loved National Geographic as a kid, and kinda makes me want to subscribe to it again.

Yesterday I pretended like I was shooting a perfume ad for my 365 project. Clearly I would be terrible at this since you can't even read the entire product name on the label:

I'm currently reading The Gunslinger for the first time. I love me some Stephen King, so why have I never read this series before? Also, why aren't they making this into a movie with Viggo Mortensen as Roland? (By the way, have you heard that Ben Affleck will be directing The Stand? I don't know how I feel about this. On one hand, Gone Baby Gone was excellent. On the other hand...IT'S BEN AFFLECK.)

Texture

No story to go with today's photo. I just like the way it turned out. Sometimes it's just enough that it looks pretty, eh?

Lethal weapon

This little wooden hammer is the single most abused toy in our house. And by "abused" I mean "used for an unintended purpose" - i.e., whacking your twin brother on the head.

It's pretty much permanently in toy jail at this point since I can't give it back to them for longer than two minutes before it's used as a weapon. Who knew fratricidal urges started at such a tender age?

Heresy

I will never get used to the fact that Aussies (and presumably Brits) sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider song as "Incy wincy spider".

Ever have one of those days where you just want to photoshop the shit out of a picture? Wheee! Look at all the fun stuff I can do!

Heretics. ITSY BITSY 4EVAAAAA!!!!11!!!1!

Carpe Kairos

Yesterday I sobbed to a group of friends about what a terrible mother I am.

It was a bad day. To give you some idea, in just one hour short hour, Dash bit Will twice, the boys managed to get into the pantry and spread flour all over the floor, Will nearly got his finger broken in a door hinge, they wouldn't stop fighting over every.single.thing on the planet, and in the 30 seconds I was in the bathroom, they tore apart a set of window blinds. I was reduced to screaming at one point, and crying a few minutes later.

I felt so frustrated and alone. A lot of parents don't talk about this stuff, and you certainly don't read about it in discipline books or on blogs -- or if you do, it's with a disclaimer about how the parent didn't care because they love their adorable snookums soooooo much that they cherish every precious moment no matter what is happening, because that's what good parents do.

Cherish? Every moment??? Some days it's a struggle just to get from breakfast to bedtime, and there isn't a whole lot of cherishing when you spend half your time breaking up fights and the other half trying to stop your maniacal twins from demolishing the house, and all you can think is that there must be something wrong with you because you're supposed to be enjoying this time and instead all you want to do is run screaming down the street.

My friends bolstered my confidence, told their own war stories, and my dear friend Jaime sent me this article, which is the single best thing on parenting that I have ever read. If you're a parent having a bad day, go check it out. It will help. I promise.

Lamington

Today's shot is for all my Aussies out there (and my dad, who fell so in love with lamingtons on his last visit that he asked me to ship him a box of them for Christmas):

It is bugging the shit out of me that the lamington isn't totally centered on the plate. But since Ben has eaten it, this is the best you're going to get.

If you haven't tried them, lamingtons are squares of sponge cake dipped in chocolate sauce and rolled in coconut. They're not my all time favorite Aussie treat (actually, I have no idea what would be), but they're still pretty good!

Shirty

Before the Pirates were born, people warned me that babies came with a lot of laundry. After they were born, I laughed at those people because it really wasn't much more than we already had.

But these days?

One of 5146852 piles of shirts I folded tonight.

I feel like I spend half my life doing laundry.

The Joy of Books

I'm sure by now you've see Sean and Lisa Ohlenkamp's video of organizing their bookcase (if you haven't, check it out - it's quite charming, not to mention more than a skosh OCD), and now they - with the help of about 20 other people - have done it to a bookstore as well:

I love this so much, and a small, insane part of my brain kind of wants to sneak into a bookstore and do this, although I know that could only end in tears and a night in jail.

P.S. VW - I'm digging through photos from the beginning of the parade. Is this your father's car? It's a truly terrible shot, sorry. :(

Public service announcement

If you're at a festival, and you decide to give your children soft serve ice cream, like so:

Think it though, and take them out of the stroller first.

And bring a change of clothes.

That is all.

Elvises on parade

Here they are - photos from the Elvis Festival parade! It was a lot bigger than I expected and took nearly an hour - I spent several hours last night just sifting through photos for this post.

We arrived with only minutes to spare before the parade, and ended up a couple of rows back instead of right at the front of the crowd, which was unfortunate. (Also: it turns out that it's also REALLY hard to focus a camera one-handed while balancing a toddler on the opposite hip. Just FYI.)



Sadly, I didn't get a single good shot of Ben (or, as we called him for the day, BElvis) on his float - I was so busy trying to point him out to the boys that I totally missed my opportunity. You can kinda sorta see him here:

And here:

That was the best I got. Boo. Moving on...

Beer Sponsored Elvis with Bonus Showgirls!

Lady Elvis on stilts!

Not Elvis, but check out this groovy old caravan! (Or motorhome, whatever. They call 'em caravans here.)

A Wiggle of Elvises from the back...

 ...and from the front!

Semi-Hawaiian Elvis, and Mini-Elvis With Attitude:
 

Buzz Lightyear Elvis! (I don't know. Really, I don't. He was on a float with a model of The Dish, so I'm guessing it was supposed to be some kind of alien reference.)

Wartime Elvis!

Rubber Head Elvises! (Are these creepy to anyone else, or is it just me?)

Motorcycle Elvis and Friend! 

Three Not Elvis Chicks playing what I think was Don't Be Cruel on violins!

I'm In A Cool Car Elvis!

I'm In A Cooler Car And I Have Angel Girlfriends So Neener Neener Devil Elvises:



Vegemite Wife - is this your father's car? If so, sorry I couldn't get a clearer shot of the driver's face (assuming that's him).

I have no idea what this thing was. Something powered by pedalling? Whatever it was, it started making a horrible grinding noise right as it hit the finish line.

Since I couldn't get a good shot of him on the float, I made Ben BElvis pose once we all met up after the parade. The expressions on the faces of the people behind him crack me up:

The hideous styling of that wig was my doing. Apparently I should never be allowed near artificial hair.

The boys were remarkably unperturbed by the sight of their father in a spangled jumpsuit, as you can see from the bored expression on Dash's face:

I was expecting the festival to be a bit tiring, but it was actually a lot of fun! Cheesy as hell, but everyone there was clearly having a blast (and no one was taking it too seriously), and that attitude was really infectious!

Ben found out that morning that employees' families are encouraged to ride the company float as well, so now he's lobbying for the Pirates and I to join him next year as Priscilla and twin mini-Elvises and see what it's like from the other side. Think we should do it?

Elvis, Pirates and Showgirls

It's been a long day, so I'm holding off on the big Elvis Festival parade post until tomorrow - in the meantime, here's a little teaser to tide you over:

Did you know that the collective term for a group of Elvis impersonators is a "wiggle"? So the interwebs say, anyway.

I also bring you this skeevy charming snapshot of my beloved husband in his parade costume, along with a couple of the showgirls from another float:

Ben was terribly amused by the fact that Will and Dash screamed like banshees when they sat on Santa's lap at Christmas, but didn't bat an eye when two attractive - albeit feathery - women cuddled them. Apparently their priorities are in order.

All hail the King!

Guess what I checked out today?

The Elvis Festival, baby! Momentum has been slowly building all week, and today the main street went wild with everything Elvis related.

I knew it was a big event, but I was still surprised when I rounded the corner to a local park and discovered this in the very place I was intending to drink my coffee while relaxing on a bench:

I knew they had to host it SOMEWHERE but the sight was so unexpected than an involuntary "Shiiii-ver me timbers!" escaped my mouth.*

[* Since the Pirates' vocabularies are growing daily, I'm trying to curb my swearing. Lately I've been substituting pirate phrases for obscenities and that seems to be working well, although shouting "Avast!" doesn't have quite the same cathartic effect as dropping the F-bomb. However, screaming "Mothergrabbing lilylivered deckswabbing monkey!" after stubbing your toe feels better than you might expect.]

I stopped briefly at the main stage, where a low-key Elvis impersonator was crooning to the crowd while a couple danced in front of the stage:

Back on the main street there were quite a few street performers, including...

I Can't Remember The Words Elvis, who kept checking the lyrics on his portable karaoke machine while singing:

Western Shirt Wearing Elvis (Elvis-philes - was this something The King would have worn? It seems questionable to me.):

Black Elvis, who was repeatedly greeted by name by passerby and seems to be something of a fixture at the event:

Semi-Hawaiian Elvis:

Silver Statue Elvis:

Blue Guitar Elvis:

I Grow My Own Sideburns Elvis:

 I Grow My Own Sideburns Too And Mine Are Better Elvis:
 

My Wig Doesn't Fit But I'm Having A Blast Anyway Elvis:

And Matador Elvis joined by Red Cape Elvis and It's 11am And I've Already Had Four Beers Elvis for the big finale of Hound Dog:

And it's not just Elvises (Elvi?)! There were little Priscillas...

...and, interestingly, a few WWII military costumes:

I just have to point out the shoes that the woman on the far left is wearing. She was 85 if she was a day, and rocking these black and white Oxford heels:

ADORE. And yes, I totally stalked an old lady for half a block while taking photos of her feet. I may need help.

The big parade is tomorrow (Vegemite Wife - I'm totally going to keep an eye out for your dad's car!), and I'll be spending my evening styling Ben's Elvis wig.