Sometimes the universe has to smack me upside the head with a two by four to open my eyes. I should be sporting a goose egg from such a smack right now.

Simon despises the car. Trips in the car are never fun occasions for him, and long trips are torture. A homeopathic for motion sickness helps some, but it wasn't the cure-all I had hoped. I had to drive an hour yesterday, and I had been dreading it. Simon had not been himself for much of the week - irritable, grumpy, unusually attached. Deep inside, I knew this car ride would be especially wretched. It was.

We made it 20 minutes before he started crying. He nursed, calmed down, and we set off on our way. We made it a half mile. He became hysterical. He would not nurse; changing a diaper or snuggling made no difference. I spent 15 minutes trying to calm him without success.

I looked out the window, frazzled and desperate, and had a moment of clarity. We were one building away from a chiropractor. It was such a profound moment that there should have been a single ray of sunshine shining on the building, highlighting it.

The kids and I marched over.

"Do you adjust infants? Can you fit us in right now?"

I talked with the chiropractor and felt comfortable with him, his philosophy and his adjustment style. I actually liked him better than any chiropractor I have found since our friend moved away. He adjusted Simon, gave me his home telephone number in case we had any problems over the weekend, and we went on our way.

Simon made it all the way to my mother's without crying. He actually cooed. Cooed. In the car.

I frequently suggest chiropractic care for other people's children. Luis and I have been saying for over a month that we needed to get Simon adjusted, but we kept putting it off.

The universe decided to smack me into action.