Gummy Bear Nation

I have returned from a week long hug. If you can arrange one, I highly recommend it. I used to think of LA as traffic, crumbling infrastructure, and smog. Now I will remember it as gummy bears, cupcakes, and smog.

But I am home now and back to my day job as baby furniture. Luckily I am furniture for two very sweet, smiley wonder babies. I would not do this for just anyone.

In 32 meetings I got to shake hands with a lot of people. It was frightening how quickly I felt a kinship with the ones who had kids. How old? Are they sleeping? Names? I used to watch these exchanges between other people and feel like they were talking in code. And now I find myself in detailed discussions of the best swaddling techniques with people I barely know. I was a non parent recently enough to remember how annoying this is, but I cannot stop. I need to be quarantined before I affix a bumpersticker to the car telling you about my children's grades or honor role status.

I wish I could communicate the swirly, weightless feeling of watching personal and professional things change at such a rapid rate. The one thing every parent I met warned about was how quickly it all went by. I'm sure that's the case on all fronts. If we meet soon and I'm too dumbstruck to tell you my name, just know that I'm concentrating on soaking it all in while it lasts.

That or it's the mojitos.