We went to the children’s museum today. It’s a small museum right in town, that we don’t go to very often. They are only open 2 days a week–and only for 5 hours each day. I still haven’t figured that one out. The place is adorable.
We have 3 favorite rooms there. One is the “Builder” room where there are tons of building toys and pretend tools. They also have one wall where they’ve put plexiglass where the plaster should be. Selam loves staring at what it looks like inside a wall’s tummy. She also really loves being a builder.
Another favorite is the goodnight moon room. That room is so freaking adorable. It is an exact replica of the book. Selam likes to lie down on the little bed, and have me sit in the chair. I try not to remember that the woman in the chair is supposed to be old.
Probably her most favorite, though, is the music room. This room has all kinds of cool instruments that kids can go nuts on. Playing in the background is a CD of the human heartbeat. It’s fascinating, really, all the kids pick different instruments and wander from one to the next, but if you sit with it for a while, eventually they all come back to matching the heartbeat. “I know what that sound is, Mommy.”
“what is it?”
“it’s a heart.”
“how do you know?”
“Weeeeeeelll,” she loves to drag out that word. “I listened to a heart at school in dramatic play. ”
“You know what the heart is saying?”
“Love you. Love you. Love you. Love you.”
“Ah, so it is.”
“And when two people get really really close together like hugging, they love each other because of they can hear the hearts talking to each other.”
At this museum, they read a story at 2 on Saturdays. If you’re there for the reading, you get a copy of the book to keep. This week it was Snowflake Bentley. The kids listened to the story, and then helped to cut out snowflakes from paper. Slips of white paper soon littered the ground.
Selam had read the book before, in Girl Scouts.She tired of the snowflake cutting, and brought another book over for me to read to her. She flopped on my lap. Around us children chattered, parents responded, and beneath it all we could hear from the floor below us: buh bu, buh bu, buh bu, buh bu.