Bad Parent: The Littlest Gamer
I turned my toddler into a videogame addict.
by Annie Bacon
May 19, 2009
In my defense, I'd mostly turned to video games for a sense of security. Since my daughter's birth, I had always been the kind of mom that sits on the floor to tell stories with stuffed toys, or run around at the park playing Hide and Seek. From a self-centered
young adult, I had grown into a nursery-rhyme singing, Play-Doh molding, selfless mother, always going the extra mile to make my little one happy. I spent my days finding happiness through her eyes. Like a play slave, I invented games until my mind grew blank,
and forced enthusiasm for occupations that sometimes bored me to tears.
I could have kept on going. The problem was that, soon, my duties would double . . . and that scared me to no end. I already felt at the limit of what I could give. Would I keep on going on sheer will, gradually transforming into the motherhood version of
a Stepford Wife: perfect in appearances, yet internally screaming every time I saw a plastic doctor kit?
After two years of adapting playtime to my daughter's preferences, pregnancy made me start having her adapt to mine. Some parents take their kids to see art house movies like
Harold and Maude,
others take theirs to bars. I had taught mine to play videogames.
I proposed a quest to find a save point before dinner.
Back on the couch, my husband answered my daughter's plea with a roaring "I'm a bad guy!" and they were now fake-wrestling, tickling, and giggling away toward a bad case of hiccups. I could have put an end to the whole thing right there and go back to supposedly
"wholesome" games that encourage imagination and physical activity. But did I really want to? I finally let go of the perfect mother I had planned to be, picked up the controller, and proposed a quest to find a save point before dinner.
There would be time later for a return of the "half-hour" rule and for games labeled "early childhood." Right now, there were Lego Nazis to be dealt with, and the fact that we all could enjoy it naturally and effortlessly felt like salvation.
As we resumed our button mashing, I looked at the blinking light on my controller. It stated that I was the second player out of a possibility of four. Four? I stroked my bulging belly, all fears gone for the first time in months. Our second child could
come: there was place in my heart, in my life . . . and on my X-box.
About the Author
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Annie Bacon is a freelance game designer living in Montreal. She's also the author of the french youth novel series Terra Incognita and akidstory.com personalized books. |
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