Pop Culture Thursday: I Hate You, Minecraft

I know it was dark and cloudy and cold out the first time my children mentioned Minecraft. Of course, all that means is that it happened between October 2012 and the middle of June 2013, but I think it might have been January. I made a mental note to check it out.

Which I promptly forgot, until I read an article about the creators in Time magazine. When it talked about teaching kids the basics of coding, I was sold. It sounded so much better than Mario Kart.

And I'm not just saying that because I'm terrible at Mario Kart.

Anyway, at some point this spring I got them Minecraft for their Kindles. They were delirious with joy. Half of Lovebug's playdates turned into two boys obsessing over Minecraft; the Wii wasn't even mentioned. Better still, Hugmonkey could play it too.

Then Hot Guy noticed how much they were talking about it. . . .and how much the rest of the world was talking about it. He had the bright idea to get it for the Xbox, so he could play it too and so they could all play it on a larger screen.

And that's just what my family has been doing with all their free time lately. There's no point in cutting the children off, because then they just watch their obsessed father play. I know that soon Hot Guy will get over it, as he's gotten over every other video game. . . .

The fact that he just announced he'll be playing this game "forever" was just a hyperbolic way of expressing how much he enjoys it, right? He doesn't mean that this is about to become our only family hobby? Right? Right?

I mean, when they're not playing it, they're discussing it. I believe the kids were even incorporating some elements into their game on the playground this morning. And guess what happened when it was time to leave the playground. . .no one got upset. They were totally cool with it. . .as long as they could play Minecraft when we got home.

And they keep saying, "Well, Mom, if you played you'd understand," and "You should try it, honey."
"It's so much better than other video games! It's so creative! It's the BEST GAME IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!"

Meanwhile, I'm over here having flashbacks to the Sims. In 1991, I think, I first played the Sims on my computer. This version of the game is so old that's it's not even mentioned on the Wikipedia page, but it was similar to the game played now - just a lot more basic. And I TOTALLY fell in love with it. So in love, in fact, that I resented it when I had to stop playing. I arranged my class schedule to maximize playing time, I think. I played the game instead of going out. It was awful. The only way I could quit was by going cold turkey.

I haven't played a creative video or computer game since. I'm afraid of what will happen to me if I start playing Minecraft. I'm slightly worried about my husband, but at least the kids have managed to move cheerfully between the game and real life.

So far.

In Which I Compare Myself To A Real Housewife

I'm going to admit this publicly, even though it shames Hot Guy: I watch all of the Real Housewives shows. I even watch their aggressive cousin, Mob Wives. I will sometimes think about these people as I go through my day. I've been known to read gossip blogs about them. I comfort myself with the knowledge that at least I haven't bought any of their books or products. It's not that I'm a FAN or anything. . . .

But I've wasted enough of my life on these shows to know that most of these bitches are delusional, narcissistic or both. So I should not have been shocked when one of them threw a hissy fit because her daughter eloped. (It was on last week's Real Housewives of Orange County, for those of you keeping score.) All the mom kept saying was how the daughter had deprived her of planning the wedding and picking out the dress together and all these occasions she'd dreamed about since the daughter was born.

I'm pretty sure that if one of my kids elopes without telling me, I'm not going to whine about missing wedding stress. I'll probably be bummed I missed the ceremony, but I've actually never fantasized about anything to do with my children's weddings. Possibly because my oldest is 7, though according to Vicki (the Real Housewife) I should have been thinking about wedding dress shopping the second they cut her out of me.

I spent half a second worrying that a Real Housewife loved her kids more than I loved mine, and then I realized that throwing a hissy fit about your 25 year old eloping is not a sign of a loving parent. I don't spend a lot of time fantasizing my kids' futures, because I figure my job is to make sure that they can have happy and productive futures - not fulfill my wish list.

Although I do have fantasies of traveling around Europe together. To be honest, though, I also have fantasies of traveling around Europe with just Hot Guy. And alone. I guess what I'm saying is that the kids aren't a required part of my European fantasy, like they would be about walking a kid down the aisle or whatever.

Except that I don't think I've ever fantasized about a wedding. Why? Because I spent my youth fantasizing about my prom and watching movies that fetishized it (Pretty in Pink came out approximately 2 years before my junior prom, okay?) and it was such a letdown. I had fun, but there was no romance, no magical moment, no suddenly being the belle of the ball. Hell, no one even dropped pig blood on the prom queen. If prom wasn't all it was cracked up to be, why would I daydream about a wedding?

What I'd really like to know is, which one of us is normal? Do you all daydream about your kids' weddings like Housewife Vicki? Would you be pissed if your kid eloped? Or would you send a gift and start demanding grandchildren, like I'm going to?

Call Me Pax Hempmom

I've always thought that people who claimed to be possessed had mental and/or physical problems that explained their behavior. Like that little girl in The Exorcist was probably molested by the priest or something.* So the fact that I'm sure I'm being possessed by some earth mother from the '60's means that I'm in the midst of a nervous breakdown and/or I really do have a brain tumor.**

The first time I was allowed to stay home by myself and make my own dinner, I "made" Pringles and Chips Ahoy. And 20 years later the first dinner I "made" in the first house I bought? Also Pringles and Chips Ahoy. Not only do I not cook, I don't even like meals. Except for breakfast. I could eat breakfast food all day long. I would probably weigh 10 more pounds if I knew how to cook bacon properly.

So yeah, about the possession. Recently I've begun to think that all this crap I eat and even the restricted crap I let my children eat (whole grain Goldfish! Wendy's chicken nuggets, not McDonald's!) is quite possibly truly bad for us. I mean, I've always known vegetables were healthier, but I figured kids with my genes wouldn't fall for the whole broccoli is a treat thing. Especially since, even as babies, they were chucking the broccoli across the room. But I didn't think I was feeding them anything that would actually hurt them. And then I heard about arsenic in apple juice. And suddenly I was thinking the Real Food movement might have a point.

It was when I downloaded one of Michael Pollan's books instead of a new mystery that I started to get concerned. And I got downright scared today when I told Hugmonkey I wouldn't buy him grapes because they weren't organic. Also, I may have ordered "The ABCs of Yoga for Kids" on Lovebug's last Scholastic book order.

Clearly, I've been possessed by an earth mother.


*I've never actually seen The Exorcist. But I know it involves possession and a priest. 


**Don't you always think "brain tumor" whenever you get a headache? No? 

I'm Not the Crazy One, Right?

So I read parenting magazines. Sometimes I find good ideas in them, sometimes I read about complicated crafts I will do with my kids if I ever have a lobotomy. Mostly they are just a good way to feed my addiction to the printed word. And occasionally they give me the chance to be a snarky bitch.

I've been obsessing about this one story I read and I've finally decided to appeal to the wisdom of the internets. I can't remember where the story was or precisely what it was in reference to - maybe something about a little disappointment being okay for kids? I'm not sure.

What I do remember is this: A woman's 2 daughters were given two different toys in their Happy Meals. The franchise was out of one toy, so the mother drove to FOUR DIFFERENT McDonald's franchises to find it. So her daughters could have the same toy.

Now, I'm all about my kids getting the same stuff and equal treatment and all that. BUT oh my freaking goddess, this is a McDonald's toy we're talking about. Those of us who give in to the demon fast food throw out bags of those toys every year. Chances are the kids would have gotten over it quickly, but the mother didn't want her kids to be upset for even a second.

Those kids are going to be a lot of fun when they get to kindergarten and find out they can't be line leader every day. Right? I mean, this woman's crazy, isn't she? She even said that the kids had both fallen asleep in the car by the time she got the toy. This is taking the whole positive experiences/devoted parenting thing too far, is it not?

It occurred to me, though, after my initial shock wore off, that I know some parents who would do this. That maybe I'm the one who's crazy - crazy mean, that is. So, what do you think? Would you drive to 4 McDonald's franchises so that your kids could have the same toy? Or is this woman what's with kids today?

The Voices In My Head

After some trauma in my youth and an ugly first marriage, I worked really hard on my mental health. I became a happy person. The only voice in my head was mine.

And then I had kids.

Now being in my head is like being at a committee meeting ALL THE TIME. There's an officious president who's all about following the rules from the parenting books (You can't let the baby cry! Have you read to them for twenty minutes? ), the crackpot in the back (Why don't you just chill and let everyone eat ice cream for dinner?), the one who's read too many self-help books (You're not giving enough hugs! Hug that kid who just used crayon all over her carpet!), the one who's not paying attention (I wonder if Daisy of Love will be as good as Rock of Love?), the mommy blogger (Will this be funny enough for a post, or just humiliating?), the nutritionist (Where is all the organic food you were supposed to buy? They have to eat carrots!) and my mother (Don't take a break! You haven't done everything yet!).

It's a wonder no one's caught me talking to myself yet.

Do you have voices in your heads? Or do I really need that much fantasized about week in the loony bin?