nesting: family-style

While we wait on the stork to bring Quattro, the whole family is in on this nesting business.  Yesterday the lads helped* my beloved clean up the Bambini Ride and rearrange the car seats to make room for a fourth one.  Both lads are now in the "way back."  Mama is hopeful there will be a minimum of fisticuffs. 

*by "helped", I mean they unearthed the younger lad's long-missing favorite ball cap, helped vacuum up a school of Goldfish crackers, wiped down seats scuffed with footprints, then climbed into the front and pretended to be driving their firetruck.  This was followed by some construction with PVC pipe outside the vehicle which soon devolved into whacking things.

The washer is on overdrive, laundering teensy tiny (or "tinsy", as the elder lad used to say when he was about the lass's age) baby clothes, blankets, bedding for the helping hands who will be staying with us once Quattro comes home, and car seat covers (in addition to the usual queue).  The current incarnation of our drinkable yogurt recipe is posted prominently on the fridge for hasty refills.  We're baking things in big batches to "feed the freezer" -- pancakes, cookies, muffins...

The recently-unearthed infant carrier is drawing lots of attention.  The lads have each tested to see if they can fit in it (just barely) and laugh at the thought of themselves small enough to have been strapped in.  The lass says "baby! baby!" and tucks her baby doll safely inside.

I'm wondering if Quattro will have dark hair like my beloved's, sea glass-colored eyes like the elder lad's, or his or her own unique combination of features and coloring.  And speaking of "his" versus "her", will Quattro even the gender score in this household or tip the scales even further? 

We're so looking forward to meeting you, Quattro.  We love you already.

always an exciting sighting

Today I returned a sack o'books to the big regional library not too far from us with the drive-up book drop on the way to retrieve the elder lad from preschool.  The younger lad (the one who had declared "I don't want to nap!" at siesta time) was out cold in the back seat, and even though I had a trip planned to our local library for "fresh" books, as we call them, after school, I wanted to drop off the big load beforehand for simplicity's sake.

Three huge firetrucks were parked in the big library's lot.  None of them had lights or sirens on -- it wasn't an emergency.  The firefighters must've been inside the library.  When I related this story to the lads after school, I mused aloud "maybe they were there for a program or something." 

The elder lad had a different hypothesis:

"Maybe they were there for fresh books.  Not picture books.  Firefighter books."

He might just be right.