Loaded question

My boss at my old job used to ask on an almost daily basis: "How is *insert cutesie name for Elle here*?" Often, he'd ask the more specific follow up of "Beansprout doing anything new?"

It's a pretty common question - when people know that you have a kid, it's an instant conversation-starter. Or a new spin on the "how are you?" of pre-baby life, because really, my life does tend to revolve around my munchkin and everything is affected by her and/or her mood.

So I should have been (and should be) prepared for these kinds of questions, but holy geez, how long do you have? Do you want to know about the things I blog about, trying to remember to write them down as they happen lest I forget one cute or quirky thing she did? Or what foods she is or isn't eaten on any given day? Would you like to know how many times she pooped yesterday (4), or how many days it had been before that since she had pooped (1.5)?

I never realized how hard of a question it was to answer, though, until a former coworker of mine wrote a blog post on the subject that had me shaking my head and mumbling, "Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes!"

Because if I told the people who ask - politely, expecting a conversational and brief "She's crawling!" or "She's teething, whoa" type response - the truth, we'd be there for hours and their eyes would be darting frantically around the room, looking for an out, a way to escape the mommy conversation. I could go on for hours about the stuff Elle is doing, the stuff she says, the things Tim and I talk about regarding Elle and parenting and the future. I could converse endlessly about things that are in our rearview mirror, like breastfeeding and baby led weaning and sleep training. I could chat about cloth diapering and potty training theories for days (but really wouldn't want to - days of poop talk? C'mon).

If you really want to know how Elle is doing, I could push past the timely nugget of info I try to keep stored in a spare crevice of my mommy brain for this very question, and I would tell you how smart she is (tonight I found out she knows her colors! including "pick" for pink). I would tell you how sweet she is, kissing her bath toys every night as she lines them up on the rim of the tub. I would tell you how how passionate she is, whether it be about food or her blankie or going for walks. I would tell you how she is insanely funny. I would tell you about how adorable she can be, and how she waits until the lights are off in the nursery at bedtime and then puts her face super close to mine and laughs. I would tell you about how maddening she can be, how we have a relationship that Tim describes about as exactly as I can imagine, with extremes of high and low - we're either having the time of our lives or our stubborn streaks are both on full blast. I would tell you how sometimes when I'm rocking her at bedtime, I think of how it feels like just yesterday that she would sit quietly and contently on her activity mat, and now she's so full of movement and energy that I'm constantly wondering how to keep up with her. I would tell you how sometimes it takes my breath away that we're so lucky and blessed, and even on the most challenging days I can't imagine life any other way.

I try to keep one big highlight or conversational piece tucked away in my mommy brain for when this question is asked, because I honestly don't think anyone wants the real answer when they ask how Elle is doing. But when I think of how much she has changed, how much our lives have changed because of her, and how full my heart is, it seems kind of trivial to say "She got yogurt all over herself last night" or "She decided she didn't want to nap today."