My son speaks in an entirely different language than I do. I call it video game vocabulary. I sometimes find myself drifting off as he tells me of his excitement for the upcoming installment of Metal Gear Solid. Or whatever happens to be the hot new video game release of the week. I can’t help it. There is truly nothing that makes me want to scratch my eyes out more than hearing what jacksepticeye ( a famous youtube gamer ) has to say about Assassin’s Creed Unity. It’s just not my jam. My son, however, can spew these words as if they were his own.
All. Day. Long.
My Son is a gaming, nerd.
I’m not a gamer. Unless you call button mashing the controller while desperately trying to get, Sub-Zero of Mortal Kombat, to his finishing move gaming. Then I am at expert level gamer extraordinaire.
I do my best to relate to my son. Hell, I have even tried playing these first person games. The problem, I am terrible at navigating them. The last time my son and I played one of his games; I somehow got the character’s horse stuck in a tree – for an hour. In which it took my son restarting the game to alleviate the problem, losing all his checkpoints, or what the fuck ever you call them.
My thoughts on this, hey game-maker-guys, if the horse can get up in the tree, he should be able to get down, AMIRIGHT!?!? Who’s so bloody smart now?
He doesn’t ask me if I want to play anymore, and I don’t find myself pushing him to play with me just to spend time together. Besides, I am not a big fan of the vexed sighs and groans when I haphazardly put a horse in a tree or drive a car through a supermarket. I’m sorry kid, but you don’t just hand your Mom a Ferrari, tell her to rob a bank and expect it to go well. (You’ve seen the way I handle the controller.) Also, Grand Theft Auto is ridiculously hard.
I don’t now about the rest of you, but the only time I like using the PS4 controller is to turn on Netflix.
My son uses words like Lag, Miniboss, Pubstomper and a myriad of weird gaming jargon; as if it’s what all the regular people talk about at the dinner table. It is so often that he inundates me with this foreign dialect; I would rather sprinkle arsenic on my mashed potatoes, to dismiss myself from the incredibly dry tedious conversation.
It’s not as though the only thing my son does is game. When he’s not gaming, he reads books about gaming. Or he finds time to hang out with his friends so they can talk about gaming. Just to clear a few things up, I do make sure he doesn’t lock himself in his room and play video games all day. We do other extracurricular activities, I promise. But, his passion is video games. So much so, he wants to be a game developer and or video game creative writer.
I stand behind him one hundred percent. We should all be able to do what we love. It’s not his fault I don’t get the world of video games, and I don’t have to, to love my son. Whether I love him is not the point, of course, I love him. I just can’t wrap my head around the odd world of gaming. And the gaming jargon that seemingly goes with it. Please Make it Stop!
There isn’t a lot I can do about not having much in common with my son. I have taught him always to be himself. I raised him to be an individual, with his own thoughts. I can’t exactly contradict myself by pretending I love video games, and I would never force him to enjoy sports the way I do. We are different, and that is ok.
However, I miss my tiny lego obsessed boy. I miss him looking at me with those big innocent eyes and asking me why the sky is blue, again. For the forty-fifth time. In an hour. When he was little we didn’t need to connect through commonalities; we had each other, just Mom and Son.
It feels peculiar not connecting with my child on the level I once did. I’m not upset that I am raising a self-proclaimed nerd. But I do find it hard to relate to him the way I once did. Forcibly trying to strike up a conversation with a fifteen-year-old boy is difficult enough. Let alone when you have entirely different interests, and the only thing he really wants to talk about is VIDEO GAMES.
My son is an incredible kid that I feel proud to have raised thus far. He is polite, caring and an honorable young man. We simply don’t have a lot in common. I love this kid, with all my heart for all that he is, but our bond feels a little broken. I am raising a child that I might not pick as a friend or hang out with in a social setting. Nevertheless, I accept my son, whether he is similar to me or not. I empower him to be who he wants to be every single day. I don’t necessarily have to understand his likes or preferences to love him.
I just don’t wish to talk about video games anymore. Please!
My son is a video game nerd, I accept it and will love him for whatever he is.