Now, I know Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday isn’t until January 15th, and I know we aren’t supposed to celebrate it until the following Monday, when his birthday is observed as a national holiday, but we just went ahead and started celebrating last Saturday.
If you’re new around here, you might not know that Martin Luther King is one of Jack’s heroes, and someone that he considers a close personal friend. Last year we celebrated King’s birthday, complete with cake. This year, I hope to do the same.
So naturally when I saw that the Smithsonian Art Museum was having a family program celebrating Dr. King this past weekend, we packed up Team Stimey and Team Stimey Adjunct (my mom) and headed downtown.
Our first activity was to make “stained glass windows” (which were actually pieces of colored paper glued to white paper and put inside an opaque envelope—stained glass, my ass) with some of Martin’s Big Words on the outside.
Sam’s Big Words were Courage and Great. Jack’s was 0/1.000 ?. Yeah, I don’t get it either. But at least Jack didn’t spend the 25 minutes in the car on the way to the museum counting from one to infinity plus one hundred and two, like Quinn did.
After that, we watched a puppet show about the underground railroad. Jack deemed it sad. I agree. When the lady hosting the show asked what kids in the audience knew about Martin, Sam reminded us all that his birthday is a holiday. Way to represent, Sam.
I’d never been to this particular museum or its fantastic, warm, roofed courtyard before. We really enjoyed getting to run around sorta outside even though it was 30 degrees really outside.
of diaper wipes for crumb and chocolate clean up.
We made more crafts, including wreaths made of cut outs of hands. Although some of Team Stimey made a clock instead.
We (and by “we,” I mean “not me”) also made quilt squares.
We finished our crafts with a half hour before the last performance of the day, which, according to Sam, was going to be “singing and dancing.” So we decided to actually, gasp! visit the museum. This turned out to be a mistake. It’s not so much fun to chase three kids through a museum whilst carrying four coats and a lot of bulky, still wet art.
Finally the time came for the performers, who turned out to be the Washington Chorus Outreach Singers and not, in fact, dancing performers.
Everyone but Quinn enjoyed them, nonetheless.
“They are NOT good dancers,” he told me, mid-performance.
Quinn tried to sidle up to after the performance.
Afterward, we walked five blocks in the freezing cold to buy ice cream. Alex offered to go get the car and pick us up, but he wanted to leave his milkshake with us so that it would melt a little. It was extremely obvious that he didn’t trust me, however. He almost changed his mind and took the shake with him at the last minute.
Hmmm. Wait. What was I talking about?
Oh, right. Happy early birthday, Martin.