Doing what my boys like to do.

Last night I did something I didn't want to do.

Someone told me recently that it's important to be "with your sons" in the things that make them come alive.

I wish they loved the out-of-doors.  I wish they loved the active, imaginative life.  They don't.  They love the sedentary and isolated life of video games.  I didn't even like video games back when I was a kid, let alone now.  I didn't know how to move the joystick whilst hitting the blue, yellow, or red buttons to make the character jump, slide, shoot...oh, you get the drift.  I just couldn't make it all work and it felt boring and nonsensical to me.  Still does.

But my sons, oh, they love it!  They love the characters and the coins and the new "skins" they can get.  The love finding the treasure or the nourishment or the invisible power or the invincible super-suit that turns you blue when you find it.  They love interacting with each other as they try and conquer "worlds" inside this virtual world.  They can even get on with their cousin and some friends and talk about strategies and enemies and such.  I can't deny that it makes them come alive.  But it's been hard for me to "play with them" for so many reasons.

Part of me doesn't want them to think I approve of it so they don't spend any more time on it than they already do. The other part of me just doesn't want to pretend I have any idea what's going on.  But mostly, I never was good at it and nobody wants to sit there and do something they aren't good at for hours, let alone minutes.

But last night we got home from going to Boudro's house as a family and Heidi was going to take a walk with the girls.  I hadn't spent much time with the boys the last day and a half, so I said I'd stay back and play some basketball with them.  I enjoy doing that with them, but the whole time they would rather be inside, comfy with the air condition and their little controlled world inside that box.  They kept asking if we could be done.  They wanted another drink of water to get us into the kitchen, which is only 10 ft. away from the charging consoles that give them access to a world as wide and wild as fantasy itself.  

After sensing their batteries where dying with another game of "Around the World", I told them to go inside and grab their new "Switches" (whatever game that is) and to get them fired up.  I said that I wanted to come in and sit with them so they could show me how they worked and what they were good at.  As they walked inside I pulled some crap into the garage and closed the door steeling myself to sit between them on the bed and witness them "saving the world".  

They couldn't wait.  They told me all about every little detail and why things did what they did when they did them.  They showed me every gun and every treasure chest.  They talked with nostril-flaring glee as fast as their little mouths could move.  Their characters were interacting since everything is connected online these days.  Two kids in a candy shop.  I couldn't argue that their whole being was completely raptured by the experience.

It just got me thinking how important it is to keep spending time with them.  Not making them do what I want to do in order to spend time with me.  I know they want to be with me, but they aren't old enough yet to want to do what I enjoy.  And I'm often not mature enough to put aside my desires and to join them right where they're at.  It's just so hard when they love what I have no penchant for.  Maybe this is where parents and kids drift apart.  Wouldn't surprise me.  "You do what you like to do and I'll do what I like to do."  The years pass and pretty soon you're standing on a field after a graduation getting pictures with this kid you barely know and who doesn't have much if any feeling for you either.  So the story goes...

...if you don't crash the narrative and make a new one.

I'm trying to do that more.  It's not easy and sometimes not fun, but I'm hoping it will become more fun the more I join them in their joy.  I'll let you know how it goes.