The Money Pit

I seem to have a strong, unmanageable, perverse psychic gift. If I think to myself, wow, [something] is going really well! then almost immediately, that thing will turn to shit. Examples:

1) Last month, I said (out loud, very bad idea) that it had been a long time since our craptastic van had had one of its patented spectacular flameouts. $1100 and 8 days in the shop later, I am resolved never to even mentally comment on its good behavior again.

2) In early February, everyone around us was getting stomach flu, and we were well. "This winter hasn't been too awful, illness-wise!" I foolishly remarked. We have not been well since, and the past month has included RSV, pneumonia, sinus infection, strep, and scarlet fever. You know how the IRS now feels compelled to practically pay US, because we are so many? I think Blue Cross should take up a similar plan, though I admit I can't figure what would be in it for them.

3) Just last night, I thought to myself how fortunate we are to own a home, and how our positive balance sheet owes entirely to the increased value of said home since its purchase. Today? I had my neighbor (a contractor) over to give estimates on the long (looooong) list of long (looooong) neglected home repairs we need done. He hasn't given an estimate yet, but he shook his head over each room in a fashion that reminded me of an oncologist with a very bad bedside manner. My house may have cancer.

In related news, my neighbor is working on drumming up business and said he'd give me a discount if I got him referrals. He is a really nice guy, for whatever that's worth (since I have no actual ability to evaluate workmanship, it's worth a lot to me), he's licensed and insured, and he seems responsive. So, if anyone in the Baltimore area needs work done on their house and wants to get me a discount a referral, let me know!

The tide may be turning. In our house, in addition to the typical sock eating monster that leaves us with one of each pair, we have a binkie eating monster that secrets away pacifiers in dead of night. I think we've bought 400 of them, and we only ever know the location of one, max, at a time. Tonight, as I put the twins to bed, I asked my husband to look behind girly's crib and he found SIX of them. Things are looking up!