Last spring I told my daughter a secret that I had been waiting to tell her until I thought she was old enough to be able to handle it. Right before Easter, I decided that she was ready. I finally confessed to her that although I really do like the color purple that it is not my REAL favorite color. We looked out the window together and I pointed out how the leaves that were filling up the trees were a very light shade of green. I told her that in a few weeks the leaves would darken to a deep shade of green and that I loved this color because we only saw it for a few weeks each year. She nodded politely and then went on to drawing more pictures.

I grew up in Central Florida where there are two seasons; really hot and not quite as hot. When I moved to Raleigh at age 26, I didn’t really understand how seasons worked. Of course, I learned about seasons in elementary school, but I don’t think you can fully “get it” until you see the leaves turning orange outside your window, watch as the trees in your backyard turn from barren to full of baby leaves and watch as the tulips push through the wet dirt and grace the yard with their bright colors. And snow… I didn’t see snow that wasn’t made by a snow machine until my 27th year (and we got 21 inches that year, thank you). Seasons aren’t something that you can learn from a third grade textbook, but something that you have to really experience.

I hope that since my kids have grown up with seasons that they will retain the same wonder that I have. But at the same time, my kids will never have to endure the humiliation of exclaiming to their new co-workers: “My goodness, I didn’t realize that trees have no leaves in the winter.” Or seeing your co-workers laugh at you through the office window as you dance in the snow for the first time.

Throughout my daily life I struggle to stay in the moment and not be constantly thinking about what we are having for dinner next Tuesday night. When I look at the beautiful green color filling the trees outside right now, I feel my mind start to think about what the days ahead will bring: Taking the canoe on Falls Lake, swimming with the kids at the pool and catching fireflies in the late evening. But because this particular shade of green is so stunning, it forces me to stop and bring myself back to the beauty of spring. To the delicate white flowers on the dogwoods, the sounds of the birds singing again and spotting the first butterflies of the year. To the mornings spent at the garden center picking out the perfect Petunias to plant and the afternoons trying to rescue rollie pollies and worms from the kids exuberant digging. And the fun of seeing neighbors again who are re-emerging from their homes in the early evening after spending the winter days inside.

I had thought that my daughter had forgotten my confession about my favorite color until a few weeks ago. When the buds on the trees became leaves, she exclaimed “Look! Look! We finally get to see your favorite color again.” She then asked me to look at the leaves with her because the color will change soon. As she walked across the yard, I noticed how the shorts I bought last summer were already too small for her ever growing legs. So we sat on the grass together holding hands and watched the trees. Because she is right, the pretty green color will be gone way too soon.

Jennifer appears Mondays on TriangleMom2Mom.