Back, back to the effin basics.

Yesterday was not my banner day. All of this talk of big girl panties (with a lot of emotional roller coaster thrown in) and quite suddenly...I was done. It was like I’d run smack into a brick wall or maybe was just hit by a mack truck. We’ve been running around to appointments, trying to juggle girls and work, hanging with friends, talking on the phone or texting, or emailing, or Facebooking pretty much non-stop since Tuesday. And I woke up feeling like someone had pulled the drain stopper. I was emptied out. And circling the drain.

True Blue was bringing over breakfast, so luckily we didn’t have to think much. She swooped in with all her goodness and gave us a mental break. Then went on a walk with the hubby and talked some sense into him. He returned with a spring in his step (I’ll not ask ☺).

Then I started surveying the wreckage of our house (and lives) and tried to half-heartedly swing into action. The hubby was determined to weed and mow and garden. And all I could do was sit down and try to breathe. This was after having the talk with Miss-miss about how Daddy has a tumor. Needs surgery to get better. What a thing to have to do. (And we did it all without uttering the damnable ‘c’ word. Hoping to avoid scaring the sweet be-jesus out of her and swipe away her childhood.)

Friday night had found me staring at a computer screen until 1am. I’d tried — apparently in vain — to deny my instinct to research. But suddenly I felt a panicked urge to try to find the very best surgeon. So there I sat with my good old friend, Google. The biggest morsel was that Denver is likely where we’ll spend as much as 10 days once this thing is scheduled. Okay, fine. But then I had to go and read up on the surgery: laparoscopic vs. open, what’s involved in recovery, how we’ll have to prep, how long he’ll be down for the count...and then I started stupidly looking at statistics. And nothing, and I mean nothing, will take the wind out of your sails faster than that. What an idiot.

So there I was, when I needed to keep my head down most, looking at a bunch of shit that made me cry. I finally drug myself to bed, having pretty much ruined myself for the next 24+ hours.

As a result, the hubby spent all day yesterday watching me. Worrying himself about me. And to that I only have a few things to say: shit, shit, shit. The upside is that after a nice dinner with T and R Rocks in their backyard, we came home and talked (and cried) for over an hour. Decided that we probably needed a day of wallowing and worry so that we could both move on and face the week ahead.

We also talked about that crazy stuff. Like what something like this does to you (and the people around you). How you think you’re supposed to come out of it changed. And you know what we both realized? That all we want is to just go back where we came from. Get our lives back. And I think that says a hell of a lot about just what kind of freakin’ superb life it is that we’ve created for ourselves.

Happy Father’s Day one and all. Love your life and savor, savor, savor. I can’t tell you how supremely lucky I woke up feeling today. (And that’s not only because we have some friends who know how to flat out cook some tasty food — and a couple who know right when they need to come over and spoon me. You know who you are.)

Our plans for today include biking to Zolo for brunch and then heading to a Slow Food Boulder dinner/benefit at a beef ranch and farm. That sums up a damn-near-perfect day in my book.

TODAY’S THEME SONG: Perfect Day. Collective Soul. Troubles blooming. Innocence now fades. But still she’s dry through all the rain.