On Saturday we drove to Apple Hill for our yearly Fall excursion.
Although... it's still hitting 90-80 degrees in October. You can still get sunburned, so remember your sunscreen.
I love apples. Apple pie is my favorite pie. So Apple Hill is like... endless farms of gluttony. (think a multitude of variety of pies, apple donuts, apple fritters, caramel apples, apple cider, a million varieties of apples, apple butter, etc, etc, etc) They also have tri-tip BBQ, and CHILI! Now I'm craving more.
On our way up my 4YO couldn't reach her cup of milk. She resorted to moaning, groaning and pointing to her cup.
So I simply grabbed the cup and put it next to me, and told her she could have it if she used her words.
It takes a while to get to the farms at Apple Hill, and we had to fill up with gas... she simply did not talk to us the rest of the way, and would not ask. Stubborn is her middle name. She gets that from both me and my hubby.
The entire ride I was thinking, dude, the milk will spoil. All she has to do is ask and I will give it to her. I was anxious to give the milk to her, have her drink it and be happy. She wouldn't. She finally did, after we'd gotten to our destination, and even then I had to say the words for her to repeat..."Mommy, may I please have my milk?"
On the way home from Apple Hill my oldest, the 6YO, out of nowhere busts out, "Mom and Dad, thank you so much for spending money on us today and taking us to all the fun at Apple Hill and for this yummy caramel apple."
Just like that my eyes watered with tears. And we both thanked our daughter for thanking us. She's the daughter that often says, "Wow, Mom it's not easy being a Mom and Dad. You have to work all the time and pay for everything. That's hard."
All of this got me thinking about our Father-in-Heaven.
So often the help we need just out of grasp. He's there, anxiously waiting for us to just ask. It's such a simple thing, and yet, sometimes we are so wrapped up in ourselves we spend too much time, moaning, groaning and unwilling to humbly get on our knees to accept His willing hands to help heal, teach and guide us.
Sometimes it's a maturity thing, a thing that comes through experience, but I imagine our Father-in-Heaven weeps happy tears when He hears and sees our gratitude, our understanding of His role in our lives.
Each day I am grateful for the daughters He has entrusted me with. They are two brilliant lights in my life. They can be infuriating, and profound. They try me and they teach me. I am so lucky to be a Mother. I am grateful my Father-in-Heaven knew what role in life was best for me.
I have much to learn. He is teaching me step-by-step, simply, through His children. Perhaps one day... far, far, far into the future and the next life, I can be like our Father.