It is May the Fourth. For every geeky kid out there, playing with light sabers while wearing a bathrobe, today is your day.
I have these children. I am these children.
My son, if given his way in all things, would live to play baseball, Star Wars, and Legos, all while carrying around a pen and engineering-type notebook designing very complex video games with multi-player, multi-level actions sequences. These sequences would revolve around baseball, Star Wars and Legos. I think it is divine. He is a second grader who can not only understand 6th grade math, but can teach this math to his sister, a 4th grader. He builds miniature robots and droids out of whatever is around. Cardboard, painter's tape, spoons (yes, I have had to dismantle things so we could eat dinner), Legos (of course) and recently Q-Tips, popsicle sticks, and the arms and legs off of Barbies. (My daughter gave him permission to borrow them as long as no permanent markers or scissors were used, and he gave her a cash deposit.) It has been adventure.
My daughter, if given her way in all things, would live to have her hair be like Princess Leah all the time, while simultaneously wearing one purple high top and one pink one, and carrying a copy of Harry Potter under one arm, and a diary under the other. Her diary is a complex grouping of stories and friends and thoughts and poetry, and dreams. I think it is divine. She is a fourth grader who has no interest in boys, but understands almost intuitively the complexes of relationships. She pays attention. She knows from her heart when things are done with a mean intent, and calls people on it. Her friends are drawn to her because she is quirky but confident, out-spoken but kind, independent but social. She seems to do a great job on balancing the fine line between being funny and being weird. She is honest, and I marvel at how intelligently she can speak about what she sees and feels. She shares these insights with her brother, and they have come to an understanding somehow that she voices his concerns to the letter, and then defends him completely.
Me, if given my way in all things, would live to write down every random thought that pops into my head. I own a really nice fountain pen, but would prefer a whole bunch of gel pens in various shades of red. I would write all day about how I see the world, what I have learned while sitting at the beach, and describe, in detail, the shape and color of seaglass collected on the many walks I would be taking. I share these thoughts with my kids sometimes, who roll their eyes and sigh. When I catch them using the seaglass from the big bowl we have of it sitting on the end table in the living room, I smile and know they are listening, and that I have done my job. They are well on their way to thoughtful geekness, and I am proud.
If you have children, you might get some of this. This overwhelming need to have your children be independent, and be exactly like you, at the same time. My children look like me, and not at all like their dad. Some days I wish they had inherited their father's denim blue eyes. But 99% of the time, I am glad there is no doubt who got the majority of the genes. This works totally in my favor at places like the Tech Museum and the Exploratorium when I play, too, and can just blame it on my kids by just pointing and shrugging my shoulders. They get to go off and teach me stuff from their areas of interest (like my son building a drawing bot, or my daughter using the CrazyCaptcha Hair camera site) and I get to show them how to make paper from gooey stuff and pieces of flowers. It is a good match.
So this morning, when the May the Fourth thing was brought up, my kids both did something to "celebrate". My son put on a Jedi Robe from the costume box over his Star Wars T-shirt. My daughter asked me to help her put her hair up in two buns on the side of her head. She is carrying a collapsible Barbie sized light saber in her backpack that she will NOT take out (the whole weapons at school rule she was quick to remind me) but will make her happy to know is there. I changed my ring tone to the Star Wars theme song.
Then they asked for Reese's Pieces. (We have them for a penny out of an old gumball machine in our kitchen.) When I asked why, they said that they could use ET instead of Star Wars to celebrate if it meant getting candy, since there is no Star Wars food. Yep, geek children. I love it. Today is a great day.
