More Weight ... the Whole Story

Before Rommel and I got married we had to decide where we would be living when I moved to California. He had bought a house with two friends and that situation was not really ideal for a newly married couple. It was also a little disconcerting that what I had originally thought were fireworks being set off in the neighborhood were actually guns.

It just so happened that his brother was still living with his mother, but was getting married about six months after us. We decided that Rommel would move back in with his mother, once we got married I would move in, and then his brother would transition out. That way his mother would never be left living alone in the house, which because she is older and has some health problems, none of us wanted.

I will be the first to admit that the first couple of years were extremely tough. I do not fit the "housewife" mold, which his mother believed every woman should fit. I am not Catholic and do not attend a church, while his mother attends mass seven days a week plus other church functions. I love my animals as if they are my children and she thought the dog should stay outside.

Luckily things change and after all this time, I am really comfortable sharing the house with her. We are not best friends or anything and we still clash quite a bit, but I can understand where she is coming from. But just because we are doing better does not mean Rommel's relationship with her is any easier. They just have things that they get on each other about and they are both incredibly stubborn. Plus they cannot communicate worth a damn when they get angry with each other.

I think that pretty much brings us up to date.

So Saturday, I was in the middle of an insane day at work with people showing up late or not showing up at all when Rommel calls and tells me we need to move out. I could tell he was upset and I was not able to calm him down over the phone, so I left for an early lunch. It turns out that his mother gave him one of her religion lectures, which always sets him off. To sum it up, she basically tells him that he is going to hell because he is not attending mass and she is worried about him (God only knows what she thinks about the future of my soul).

He told me that he just could not live with her anymore and he was tired of me telling him that things would blow over (been there before). I went into damage control mode, but he was not having it. All he would talk about was looking at houses, which scared the shit of me because we have not financially prepared for something big like a house. I convinced him that we would go to the bank to discuss the process. The biggest thing was to get him to slow down and breathe.

After waiting quite a while at the bank, I had to get back to work. Once I had a moment to breathe, my anxiety took root and I was completely exhausted by the time I left work. Luckily Rommel had thought about the situation and even though he was not knocking the door down to get out anymore, he explained that he did still want to find a home at some point. We finally agreed to start saving and put aside enough money each month to cover what a mortgage payment would be. This way we can save, feel what it is like to put aside a large portion of our income, and I can do my research on first time home buying.

But I am conflicted. I love the idea of "our" own home and having everything the way I want it instead of compromising everything. I also do not want to leave his mother. She is about to turn seventy and has never lived on her own. I would feel so awful if something happened to her and we were not there for her.

I guess this is what it feels like to be an adult!

On the RA front, I am hanging in there (like there is another choice). There has been pain, but it has been bearable. The hard part is that I keep having these spells. I feel pretty decent one moment and the next I feel feverish, nauseous, and completely exhausted. The best thing I have found to do is lay down for awhile. I wake up with a headache and am still a little tired, but I do feel better. The worst was when we were at the mall on Sunday, just trying to enjoy some time out, and all of a sudden I felt so sick that we had to leave. I slept for two hours once we got home, woke up when a migraine, and finally felt a little better after eating something.

It seems like my health likes throwing me for a loop. Just when I feel like I might have some idea of how things will be, something new pops up. And just like so many other people have blogged about, it is even worse when people do not really think you are sick because you do not outwardly look sick and you are still showing up for work, etc.

My three things:

• Waking up before the alarm goes off and feeling rested enough to want to get out of bed.
  
• Simba getting along with Zooey the kitten for a whole three minutes before trying to eat her.
• Taking the pups for a walk with Rommel. The weather was wonderful and the evening was just cool enough that Simba did not tired out before we got back home.