Kidlets, Droids & Star Wars, blurring the lines.

by , under Geek, Mom, personal

A lot has gone on since vacation, and it seems wrong at the moment to blog the silliness.

TheBoy’s maternal grandmother is in the hospital. Her health has been declining over the last year- and in the last few months especially. And it’s terminal. She has congestive heart failure and her kidneys have failed. They’re making her comfortable… but it’s upended everything here. But I’ve had these posts lined up in the queue, and I don’t quite have the words yet to write about it. Just know that we really do appreciate all the support. <3 -W

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Late one night, while perusing my G+ feed, I found someone sharing the Millennium Falcon project, musing about how it’s entirely likely in the near future for us to have droids like Threepio and Artoo. Something not only with AI, but a personality.

And I considered how unbelievably awesome it would be to own my own Threepio and Artoo. Helpful, but also an endless source of comedic amusement. Threepio’s worrisome nature would be amusing. Artoo’s sound effect filled sass would be…

That’s when it dawned on me.

I don’t have to wait to have Threepio and Artoo. My kids are far more like them than I’d ever thought. I know, they aren’t droids. But give me a moment to explain.

The Oldest Kidlet is smart, but a bit of a know-it-all. Not having learned things like modesty, he will constantly tell you exactly how much he knows about something. And he talks. Constantly. He is also our worrier. During the saga of the flat tire, he immediately began to worry about whether or not we would ever make it to Arizona. It was the 7 year old equivalent of “we’re doomed.” He also prefers to take the well-traveled path. He also appreciates a good bath.

The Little Kidlet is equally smart, but pretty quiet about it. While he talks, he has a tendency to fill the silence in the room with sound effects. He’s also the one who will keep trying something until he gets it right, and doesn’t worry when things go wrong. He tries to figure out what to do next and goes for it. He’s the one more likely to explore the unknown.

The only question is, how did I not notice this earlier?

Okay. Now I see the resemblance.

Okay. Now I see the resemblance.

  • http://twitter.com/tigger62077 Jennifer Wamsley

    Oh Whitney. Hearing about terminal family makes my heart hurt for you. I’ve lost family, and will lose another soonish, and the only words I have that even remotely works are “that *so* sucks”. English language FAILS at sorrow and sympathy, and if it’s going to understand whatever I say anyways, then at least I shan’t be trite! Sending you light and love as you wait.

  • http://www.whitneydrake.com/ Whitney Drake

    Thank you. I know what you mean- every time I have friend mention losing someone, all I can say is “I’m so very sorry,” and I worry that it sounds meaningless.

    She isn’t the first grandparent that we’ve lost, but I know that I was fortunate (if you can say such a thing) in that my grandfather had been battling cancer for years- and living beyond the timespan they’d given him when it came back and spread to his bone. So we’d already regarded any time past that as a blessing, and it was a little easier.

    I’ve had such a hard time putting this into words, and I’m sure someone misunderstand when I say that I’ve been hoping for this to go swiftly and as gently as possible. Only because I know how much she means to my MIL, to my husband and his brothers. I don’t want that to further weigh them down.

    But yes, it sucks. Everything from Saturday on has just felt unbelievably surreal.

  • http://twitter.com/tigger62077 Jennifer Wamsley

    I think one of my most hated phrases is “I’m so sorry for your loss”. You hear that so much, from everyone. The postman will tell you this, even if he doesn’t know you. So will your friends. 10 years down the road, if someone finds out, they will say the same thing. It means SHITE. I would far rather someone handed me a drink and said “that really sucks” and gave me a hug.

    I know what you mean about wishing it would go swiftly. It was 14 months from the last time my mother was dx’d with cancer until she died…but she’d had her first bout 5 years earlier. This will sound bad, too, but I didn’t realize just how long she’d looked so bad until she was dead and made up in her casket. What does it say that she looked more alive, like herself, when she was dead than it does while she was “alive”? Aaron’s dad is now dying, it’s been over a year, and it’s so hard to watch him go through what I did. We grieve so differently. I can’t really DO anything to help him, and I know it, and it’s so hard. And yet…I can’t really decide if a longer or shorter death would be better. I only have experience with the one and so I’d like to say shorter…but I have memories, more than I would have if she had gone quickly. It IS hard to remember her NOT sick, though.

    You ever need a shoulder or an ear, you know how to reach me. I can give you my email if you want, or you can leave a line on my blog, or my twitter, or my FB…I’m never out of reach for long. :)