My daughter and I had found a palm frond two days ago while we were walking outside our rooms. She brought it back to show Nana, who said we should keep it because Sunday was Palm Sunday as well as Nana’s birthday. It was large so we put it on the porch. Last night we were celebrating Nana’s birthday with a family favorite dinner of pasta, made by my husband, followed by some dessert cake options from the grocery store.
My daughter was excited about dinner and had heard Nana was going to tell a story about the history of why Palm Sunday was called that—only my daughter fell asleep. She fell asleep hard. We woke her up and brought her to the table where she curled up into a ball on the chair and fell promptly back to sleep. We tried to wake her for the birthday song singing but she wouldn’t budge. It was only later when she woke up enough to realize she’d missed everything that she became upset enough to really wake up and ask for food.
So in the end she got to wish Nana happy birthday, it was just later than the rest of us. This morning she and I went out early to see what we could feel. I told her I wanted to take her on a leaf hunt—that there were all kinds of leaves I’d seen that were different than we had around us. We were going to go touch and feel some leaves.
Just outside the tower our rooms were in and I saw across the way a Gardner cutting palm fronts—live ones that were huge. They had been damaged or the plant had overgrown or some other reason and he was cutting specific fronds down and laying them in the back of his utility golf cart. I asked if we could have one of them and when he heard why, he helped get us the biggest one.
My daughter, the frond and I had to fit into the elevator. It was taller than the ceiling so we had to lean it over. My mother-in-law thought it was wonderful. We decided to take the old frond that was a pittance in size, all shriveled up and brown, and swap it out for one of the other fronds the Gardner had cut down.
My daughter and I got back outside to see the golf cart moving slowly away across the property. I told my daughter I thought we could catch it because he was most likely going to stop for another pruning location close by so she and I walked quickly, following at about the same speed as the cart was moving.
Then he turned. So we had to move quickly so we didn’t lose him. We went down a path between buildings—a long path. He didn’t stop and my daughter said she was getting a cramp. She said it was okay though, it was worth it and she’d keep walking through the cramp. We kept going and he turned again. We walked even faster until we got back out at what was by this time, close to the entrance of our building.
Only he wasn’t in sight. Not visible, but there were only two ways he could have gone. I went the most likely way and when my daughter had to rest for a bit I scouted ahead until I saw palm fronts sticking out of the back of something hidden behind bushes.
I went back to get her, saying I thought I’d found him. We walked even faster when we realized he was on the move again but then slowed down, breathing heavy when I told my daughter he was coming back our way. He greeted us and we told our story. He smiled, accepted the old, dry frond and gave us two fresh ones, cleaning them up with his pruners.
My daughter thought we had to retrace the entire way back and was happy indeed when she found out we were almost back to the elevators for our rooms by the time we’d gotten the new fronds. We’ll play with the fronds and then return them to the flower beds before we leave to go home.
The Big Boy Update: I met my husband and son at the beach this morning. As I approached my son came up towards me, pulled up his shirt, looked unhappily at his armpit area and then dove into the sand and started rolling around, trying to cover his entire body in sand. I had to drop something off at the hotel room right after that and when I returned ten minutes later my son was still there, sand all over him. This does not look comfortable to an adult but for some reason looks fun to a child.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter gets scared and fearful or things and panics. She was out in the hallway of our condo building, feeling around for braille. She had figured out the room layout as well as some extra rooms like the, “Trash and Recycling” room as well as the emergency stairwell, I had her stop so I could show her something she should know about, should recognize, but should only use if she needed to—and if she needed to use it she must absolutely use ir: the, “In Case of Fire” pull down alarm. She was so scared she would set it off it took almost ten minutes for her to trust me enough to feel it calmly. Once she did she was fine and we moved on.
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