Gamer dad gets a reprieve

One mom realizes that her husband is a better partner in parenting when he has a chance to geek out with his pre-baby interests. 

|
Jack Dempsey for Ubisoft/Invision/AP/FILE
In this file photo, actor Jesse Heiman plays Tom Clancy's Splinter Cell Blacklist in the Players' Lounge hosted by Aisha Tyler and Ubisoft's Watch Dogs during the 2013 Comic-Con International Convention.

When I see my husband doing it, I smile. I feel happy – grateful, even, that he’s taking some time out for himself after spending so much time and energy on my daughter and me. When I gave it to him for our anniversary last year, his eyes lit up. “Awesome! How did you know?” he said gleefully when he unwrapped it. 

What is “it,” you ask? A video game. It’s called “Splinter Cell Blacklist.”

One evening while watching TV, the commercial for it came on, and he exclaimed, “That looks so good!” Right away, I hopped on my phone and pre-ordered it from Amazon, since most of my gifts to him are either returned (clothes) or devoured (food) immediately. I had to jump on my chance to give him something he could actually enjoy for at least a few hours. 

See, I try really hard to be a good wife, but it’s not easy sometimes. I do nag him occasionally, though I try to avoid it. And my snoring often wakes him up in the middle of the night. Sometimes, I really botch dinner and call him in a panic, asking if he can pick up a rotisserie chicken on his way home from work.

Through it all, for the most part, he is so patient with my foibles. 

And he’s so good with our daughter, too – looking after her diligently when I’m doing the dishes, getting up to change her diaper in the middle of the night, and constantly coming up with new ways to make her smile. 

So yes, I love to see him turn on the game console, grab that controller, and take some time for what he really enjoys doing by himself. He gets in the zone and lets all stress fade away. It’s completely out of our normal baby-centered home routine of matching little socks, making baby food purees, sleep training, and so on. 

And the game has nothing to do with finish carpentry, which is what he spends the majority of his time doing outside our home. Playing video games is like his thumb-punching version of yoga – it puts his mind at peace and makes him lose all sense of time. 

Doing non-baby activities is so important, though hard to make a priority at times. It feels so indulgent. But making time for frivolous fun benefits our whole family. The happier my husband is, the happier I am, and the baby can feel it too.

Having solo time reminds us who we are outside of our roles as parents and spouses. It helps us keep things in perspective, and keeps our heads on straight. Then we can jump back into family life with renewed vigor and grace. 

Besides, it’s good for our daughter to see us pumped up about something that has absolutely nothing to do with her – helping her realize she’s not the center of the universe. Having other interests besides my child keeps me from slipping into helicopter parenting mode – and I think will help her be more level-headed and less self-centered, knowing that mom and dad do things that don’t involve her. 

As for me, I’ll keep attending my monthly book club meetings, guffawing at “The Tonight Show,” and having friends over for brunch. A little indulgence goes a long way in terms of recharging my batteries – just a simple mid-day chat with a friend puts a smile on my face for the rest of the day. Lingering over our last spoonfuls of ice cream at the end of a long day, I remember that I love my life – all of it, not just the baby-focused parts.

Striking a balance makes my husband a better dad, and me a better mom – it’s a win-win for everyone.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
Real news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.
What is the Monitor difference? Tackling the tough headlines – with humanity. Listening to sources – with respect. Seeing the story that others are missing by reporting what so often gets overlooked: the values that connect us. That’s Monitor reporting – news that changes how you see the world.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.

QR Code to Gamer dad gets a reprieve
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/Family/Modern-Parenthood/2014/0310/Gamer-dad-gets-a-reprieve
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe