the point at which I am prepared to be pushed run screaming off a cliff...

Charlie is leaving tomorrow morning on a business trip. He'll be gone for three days. I'll be flying solo with three toddlers and fat ankles.

Carolyn has a bad cold and I suspect it will only be a matter of time (days, hours, minutes) before the other two - and yours truly - come down with it. Because although I possess superhuman strength when it comes to dodging stomach viruses - my body has yet to meet a sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head bacterial strain that it hasn't embraced fully.

And I've yet to find a medication that does anything to help.

During my doctor's appointment on Thursday I was informed that my blood pressure was perfect and the baby is doing great. The doctor isn't overly concerned with my swelling - but he thought that maybe I needed to have another ultrasound to confirm the presence of one baby - when he checked my stats and noticed that I'd packed on another 10 pounds in the last month.

At the risk of sounding like an overeater in denial, I don't understand how that is possible.

I'm not nibbling off the kids plates excessively, and I have made a concerted effort to adjust my cravings from peanut butter cup ice cream to grapefruit. So far, it hasn't worked ... but still I try. I pleaded to the doctor that I had SEVEN inches cut off my hair and surely that has to account for something. Apparently not.

Maybe blonde weighs more than brunette??

I then argued that Charlie's family has a history of BIG babies. Our niece Lucy was born at 9 pounds. Our niece Alice was born at 11 pounds (at 17 years old she is 6'2"). Our nephew Geordie, to date, remains the largest home birth child in the history of Medocino County ... at 13 pounds. When my doctor heard the family history, he said that genetics might have something to do with my weight gain - but most likely - it had more to do with my appetite and decrease in exercise.

Bottomline: My calisthenics routine needs to include something more than chasing after three two-year olds. He also told me that if there was a chance our baby would be over 10 pounds (like - 20 pounds, with a 30 pound placenta - as I suggested) ... I might want to seriously reconsider the VBAC I was so optimistically planning.

It's really too bad that stress and indecision don't burn more calories. Especially since in the past 24-hours, we have entirely rethought our decision to move. I had called to schedule the installation of hardwood floors this past week, based on a proposal that was submitted to us four weeks ago - before all this indecision struck. When our contractor came by last night to have us execute the final contract - he informed us that he had mistakenly left off the labor costs to install the flooring. Labor costs which totalled more than 50% of the proposal cost.

I hate to sound fickle. But if we are going to stay in this shoebox for a few more years, I want to have carpeting that doesn't disintegrate when you walk across it. I'd love to have hardwood. But, I can't justify the cost when we are only planning to stay here for a few more years, and the real estate market is on a slow decline. And then, I started to think how if I feel squeezed in to this house with three children - I'll go right over the edge with four. And good golly - trying to sell this house with four small children under foot??

This whole flooring thing is a sign. I'm convinced of it.

We need a bigger nest. Right now.

Good luck, Jay and anyone else that can exist in a micro house. I can't do it and the thought of it, more than 6 months from now, is absolutely painful. For three solid days I tried. So within an hour of the contractor leaving last night, Charlie was on the phone talking with realtors.

At this point, I think my husband is prepared to stick me in a box, let Elizabeth punch in a few airholes, tape it shut and stick it in the garage until July. If you don't hear from me for a few days - please send a search party. I already know that our neighbors won't hear my screams.