Just like *that* her favorite color is no longer bubble gum pink.

My daughter woke up and proclaimed that aqua-kinda-of-like-turquoise-but-not-really! was her new favorite color.  Words like kinda of and not really and giddy school girl squeals of oh my gosh have filled her everyday conversations.  I find myself frozen in place when observing her, soaking in each expressive wrinkle that forms on her slender face.  Her cherub cheeks now long gone.  I silently count her freckles when she describes the last days of kindergarten.

Recently I made a grave error and admired her arms, out loud.  "What's so special about my arms?"  She questioned my private thought.  "They're just so beautiful, girlfriend."  I stood before her and stared in amazement.  A little girl growing right before me.

My daughter's eyes grew in bewilderment. The wrinkles around her eyes forced her freckles into a dance.  She looked at me, "What are you talking about Mama?" How are arms beautiful?"  I knew that look all too well.  It was the same one I flashed my own mother some time ago when she stood before me, frozen in a train of thought, when her bubble burst for me to witness.  My mother failed to explain then, what it is I'm trying to explain now.  "They just are."  I said and watched my daughter roll her eyes notifying me that I was crazy.

One day my daughter will understand.  She leaves me speechless and I love who she's becoming.

I don't want to forget anything like the lady behind me in the grocery store confessed to me this evening.  "I remember when my kids were that young.  They are your age now.  They always beg for stories about their childhood and I tell them I can't remember much because I was too tired and too busy."

And... that is why I blog, dear readers.  To remember that today her favorite color is aqua-kinda-of-like-turquoise-but-not-really! and her arms are so incredibly beautiful to me.  I'm not crazy.  I'm just becoming my mom in a modern day age where it's easier to remember.