Video Game Mommy

Help: –verb (used with object) 1. to give or provide what is necessary to accomplish a task or satisfy a need; contribute strength or means to; render assistance to; cooperate effectively with; aid; assist

When someone asks me to help with a task I picture myself aiding and assisting to make the task or chore easier. For instance, if one of the boys asks me to help him with his homework I give hints, nudges, and direction to assist whichever boy it is in reaching the correct desired result; but I don’t give the answers. I don’t write their reports for them; I don’t do their projects for them; I also don’t clean their room for them. (However, I know some parents who do all of those things denying their children the opportunities to learn on their own and to become responsible people. That’s a blog for another time, though.)

With the room cleaning I guide and direct this one to pick up this and that one to pick up that and so forth. I do the same thing with Dolly when she asks for help cleaning or doing whatever it is she needs me to do. They understand that when they ask for help I’m not going to do the job for them but I will assist to make it easier. If they understand it for homework, room cleaning, clothing matching, problem solving and everything else, why don’t they understand it when it comes to video games?

We’ve got a PS2 that Paul left with us when he moved out of the house. The boys each also got a DSi for Christmas. While they don’t have many games to play on either system, they spend a fair enough amount of time on both. The problem comes when they run into a snag of some sort that they can’t get past in whatever game it may be. Then comes the question: “Mom, can you help me? I can’t get past this part.” Now, let me start by saying that I’m not a big video game player. I do like some games, mostly game show-type video games – Jeopardy, Wheel of Fortune, and the like – but I don’t really play the games the kids like.

So, when they ask me if I can help my first response is usually, “I don’t play those games. What makes you think I can get past that point when you can’t? You’ve been playing longer than I have.” Then I hear, “But I’m stuck. I just want you to try to “help” me get past this part.” You heard that, right? They want me to HELP them. Help. Yes, I said “help” them. Start laughing if you want to because you probably know where I’m going with this.

They don’t want me to help them; they want me to actually play the game and get them past wherever they are and then they’ll take over until the next snag. In the past two years, I’ve learned to play Lego: Batman; some sort of Spiderman, and some sort of Star Wars games for the PS2. I read the directions like we’re supposed to do when learning something new, and then I started playing. I was the one breaking walls, and finding secret doorways and gems, and beating up bad guys, all so the kids could tell their friends, “I got to level [such and such] on [whatever game it may be].” Notice I said they use the word “I” when speaking to their friends.

Now that we have DSi’s in the house I’m not sitting in front of the television screen working a human-sized controller; I’m sitting in front of a handheld mini-screen using a stylus the size of my ring finger, or buttons so tiny they get lost under my thumbs, to manipulate little tiny creatures through little tiny paths and mazes, and fighting miniscule bad guys, and finding hard-to-see gems and bonus items. I sometimes need to wear my glasses so I can see up close to do what needs to be done.

Again, though, I’m not helping in the clear definition of the word; I’m playing the games to get past certain levels so the kids can take over and move on with the game. They get stuck again and I’m back at it. I’ve never played these games before but somehow I’m figuring them out when I need to; why can’t the kids do the same thing? Ty even had me find a walkthrough on the computer to help him get through his DSi Star Wars game. There is an actual walkthrough that gives you step-by-step instructions through each chapter of the game. What exactly is the point of getting the game and playing it if someone is going to hold your hand through it?

I have yet to figure that out in my household. Zach begs for these specific games and then can’t figure out how to do what needs to be done so I have to help him. Yes, I’ve tried telling him to do it himself but that starts an argument and then he starts getting down on himself and it’s just not worth the crap I have to go through. At least on the PS2 I could sit with him and we could play as a team. I could guide him this way or that and, together, we’d find what we needed. On the DSi it’s impossible. It’s a one-player game and we, quite literally, have to sit shoulder to shoulder to see the screen at the same time. And because of opposite handedness we each turn the screen off to the side to play so the other still has a hard time seeing.

Generally it ends up with him trying a few more times and then handing the game to me to continue. He’ll sit and watch TV while I do what I can to get past the difficult parts. Then he’ll take back the game and go on for a few minutes until another bump comes along and he’ll hand the game back to me. Dolly is also doing it. She doesn’t have her own DSi but Paul bought her a game of her own this past weekend: Zhu Zhu Princess. She has a group of little tiny hamsters she has to feed, water, clean, give naps to, and give treats to. Then she has to take them, one at a time, through a series of mazes to gain new items and reach new levels. Guess who’s played the majority of the game thus far?

Because she doesn’t have the reasoning capacity yet to figure out which way a maze will go from one section to another, or to figure out how to get to one place from another (spatial relations types of things), she hands the game to me to get the needed item and then she takes it back once I finish the maze. She’ll give the tired hamster a nap and a snack and then take the next one to the next maze. Guess what. The game ends up in my hands again. Amazing, isn’t it?

For some reason or another, they just don’t grasp that my playing the game for them is more than just “helping” them; and they don’t care. As long as they move forward to the next levels, all is well with the Universe. The sad thing is that I’m getting so used to playing the games that I sometimes want to play them by myself when the kids are asleep. I don’t, but there are times when I want to just because I want to see how far I can go on my own. I just never realized that part of parenting was playing video games on command. I guess it is what it is and I’ll keep “helping” as long as I’m needed. It can be fun at times and my skills are definitely increasing. My web swinging is faster, I can build Lego vehicles really quickly, and I’ve found three baby hamsters and two new outfits for the Zhu Zhus. Imagine that. Too bad my new skills can’t go on my resume.

Until next time…peace to all.