It's been one of those days.
The time change has wrecked whatever similence we had to a schedule. I've caught a ridiculous head cold, and I seem to have shared some of those germs with the baby. His nose is stuffy and yucky and pathetic. There are about a million things to do at work.
On the way home, I realized what a beautiful day it had turned out to be. My son had the back window rolled all the way down with his left arm hanging out, his hand floating on the currents of the air. His hair blew back in the wind rushing in the window. His seat belt strained across his chest as he tried to lean as far out as he could to catch all air he could.
"Tate, sit back while we're on the highway. I want you to be safe," I said.
"Ok, Mom, but it's too nice to be too far from the fresh air. It is just pulling me out towards it," he responded.
I couldn't help but smile. I watched his hand out the window, floating on the air, all the way home. His innocence and energy turned my day around in an instant.