Work of Art

Yesterday, the boys and Daddy came up with the great idea of doing some painting...on themselves.  Daddy assured that it started as a contemplative activity to deepen one's understanding of the temporal experience of life in line with the Buddhist monk practice of creating sand mandalas.  However, by the time Mommy got there, they had gone post-modern and it was all about art for art's sake.  Both boys looked like they might be part of a roving display from the Museum of Modern Art, and Daddy was holding one of the loaded paint brushes.  But as long as everybody stayed in the tub until they were cleaned off, Mommy was happy to let them expand their artistic horizons.

The Hansen Brothers - a self-portrait.

It's workout time!

Some of you may remember that Daddy was training for a 5K fun run ("fun" used here very loosely) last February in the frigid dampness of Valentine's Day weekend.  Daddy's new enthusiasm (some people - insert here Mommy - may say obsession) of getting in shape is spreading to the rest of the family.  Virg and Emmett have taken up the cause with vigor.  They are regularly seen chasing each other around the house with giant exercise balls reinacting the famous boulder scene from the first Indiana Jones movie and snapping each other with various brightly colored rubber exercise bands.  Daddy has even talked Mommy into starting a 90-day workout-till-you-drop program of which they are now on day 3 and Mommy is already at the till-you-drop point.  But Daddy is not easily discouraged.  He has his Jack LaLanne juicer, and he's not afraid to use it.  Virg has to keep asking: What interesting and exotic vegetable medley did Daddy put in my morning OJ today?

Alright Emmett, it's the form that counts.  Make it burn!  You'll be sad when it's over.

Four for the Fourth

Yes, it's true.  Virg is 4 for the 4th this year.  Technically he was born on the 5th of July, but he was well on his way by the time the fireworks were going off on Independence Day, so we are counting it.  Virg is becoming more explicit about how he wants things to go this year, and the word was:  no singing the Happy Birthday song.  We may say it, we may write it, but absolutely, unequivocally, no song.  Everyone was able to acquiesce to that request, and therefore, things went relatively smoothly.  That is until brother Emmett got going on the red cupcake frosting. It was pretty gruesome, but it stayed on the splat mat so all ended well. 

Virg gets both Thomas the Train and Thomas the Friend for this birthday party.

Virg is learning the "open-the-card-first" rule.  Who came up with that one?!

Grandpa Michael and Virg setting up his new horse race track.  Virg is betting on number 9.

Emmett is really getting into the birthday cake thing - literally. 

(Daddy would probably caption this photo with some sort of zombie reference, but Mommy respectfully declines.)

It's a jungle out there!

So, a few things have changed since Baby Claire arrived, and Virg has noticed.  He will tell you, in no uncertain terms, one of the most obvious changes is the total lack of yard care.  Whereas Mommy and Daddy used to weed and mow the lawn once in a while, those days are over.  Now it seems, the yard is a breeding ground for super-weeds.  The tallest weeds have already exceeded Virg in height, and Virg is convinced they are on their way to breaking some tall-weed Guiness Book World Records and we'll be famous.  The down-side of this is that sometimes we lose a few people in the overgrowth.  So far, we've been able to find them without sending out a Search and Rescue team, but we may be calling on S&R soon, if this continues much longer.  

Daddy, I think we lost Emmett in the grass again.  Spot me, I'm going in after him!

Station-master Virg

Virgil and Grandpa Michael share a common passion that runs on miniature tracks and blows whistles.  Ever since Virg first saw Grandpa's model train town when he was 17 months old, he's aspired to building a train set just as cool when he grows up.  Now that he's almost four, Grandpa lets Virg sit at the controls, and Virg is learning the ropes of how the track system all works (which is not easily deciferable from the mass of switches and wire connections all carefully labeled to keep them straightened out.)  But Virg is making great progress at the controls, and while he's carefully monitoring the tracks, he can also tell you in great detail about the many exciting adventures of Thomas the Tank Engine and all his various friends and acquaintances on the Island of Sodor under the direction of Sir Topham Hatt, railway conductor extraordinaire.   I think Virg needs a new handle - Sir Fedora Hatt?

Never fear, Virg is at the controls making sure that all trains arrive on schedule.

Extreme Makeover - Virg's Room Edition

The boys finally did it!  Virg's room is now officially:  the boys' room.  It took no little effort on their part to install the new IKEA furnishings - assembly required.  The first challenge was getting the numerous and very large boxes of parts home in the extremely compact (and not at all designed to carry 4 passengers and a bunch of big stuff) family car.  Mommy had more than a few "uh-oh" moments on the way home as Daddy turned a corner and the boxes went shimmying towards one or the other of the boys' heads.  And that turned out to be the easy part.  Next there were the days and nights spent with the hex wrench and hundreds of screws that all look the same, but are slightly different lenghts, creating no lack of undoing and redoing steps along the way.  And then there was the fact that many of the maticulously counted out screws, nails, etc. were regularly carted away in one of Virg's construction trucks to be deposited somewhere else in the house at a different construction site altogether.  Yet, despite all of these challenges, and with the help of all of the Wierd Al hit albums Daddy could find at the time, the job was done.   Emmett has moved in and is very happily installed in the bottom bunk.  The roommates seem to be doing quite well during the honeymoon phase of their co-existance.  We'll see how long it lasts.

Virg is on call with hammer at the ready.

Emmett impishly grinning out of the middle of his new chest of drawers.  How did he get in there anyway?

Boys in the bunk.

Easter - The Waiting Game

Virg realized this year that Easter is a lot about building character through the lesson of patience.  Egg dying is a perfect example.  Step 1: You wait for the eggs to boil.  Step 2: You wait for the eggs to cool.  Then, when you think it's finally time to get the show rolling, Step 3:  you plop the eggs in cups of dye and wait some more.  Another example, Easter Day delays.  It starts first thing in the morning, when you hurry up to get dressed so you can go downstairs and find what the Easter Bunny left for you, but first you need to wait for brother so you can both find your baskets at the same time, and then pause for the requisite commemorative photo before you can actually touch the basket.  Same story for Easter dinner.  Hurry up, wash hands and get to the table, but hold on, you can't touch any of the mouth-watering dishes until you pose for a variety of family photos.  By the time Virg got to the Easter egg hunt (which, of course, required waiting until all the eggs were hidden in the garden), he had had enough.  Waiting was no longer an option, and Virg vacuumed up those plastic eggs like a Hoover on a sugar high.  It took all of about 45 seconds and the egg hunt was over.  Virg - 16, Emmett - 3.  But not to worry.  By next year, Emmett will have honed his egg hunting skills and, as he will be just as sick of waiting as Virg, he is sure to give Virg a run for his eggs. 

Virg and Emmett find interesting things to do with markers (which don't include coloring their Easter pictures) while waiting for the eggs to dye. 

Virg, posing dutifully for the official Easter morning photo prior to digging into his Easter basket.

Wait for it, wait for it.  Hands off the food until we're done with pictures.  Nobody blink.

Virg is just a blur as he speeds through the Easter egg hunt in record time.