Guest Post: Five Reasons My Son Is Like My Xbox

I'm excited to feature my very first Welcome to the Bundle guest blogger today. Mike Cruse from Papa Does Preach explains how he juggles fatherhood and a serious gaming habit. (Spoiler: He juggles them poorly.) You will love Mike's honesty and wanton disregard for his own dignity.

Mike is a dedicated husband to The Wife and an equally dedicated, though understandably mystified father to one toddler. His posts tend to be light-hearted, but he's not afraid to bust out the heavy emotional artillery from time to time. Other Papa Does Preach must-reads include "Potty Training: The Real Game of Thrones," "Hitting Home: No One Has the Right to Be Violent" (which was picked up by Huffington Post) and "Dads Deserve a New Stereotype" (which was picked up by Huffington Post, The Good Men Project, BLUNTmoms, and, ugh, whatever, Mike, you overachiever). Go stalk Mike on his blog, on Facebook, and on Twitter. 

 

Five Reasons My Son Is Like My Xbox 

by Mike Cruse

I am one of those quasi-adult parents – you know what I mean – the kind that grew up in the 80’s and 90’s, and now, in our 30’s, we are doing everything possible to hang onto some semblance of our childhood experiences at all costs. So, how do I do that? Well, at almost 40, I’m still a gamer. For you non-gamer parents out there, that means I play video games…a lot.

I don’t just play video games; I invest quite a bit of time in my gaming hobby. I still visit GameStop and Best Buy to purchase new games, I still read reviews on the latest products, and I still geek out with my friends and debate about which console is better (Xbox or PlayStation).

My video game playing habit took a major hit in 2012 when our son was born. “Nothing’s going to change for me,” I foolishly told my friends, “I’ll just put the kid in my lap and play while he sleeps. Late night feedings will be cool; I’ll get in a lot of gaming time.” Yeah, think again.

Two and a half years later, I continue the struggle to balance my nerdy gamer ways while, in real life, being a parent – that’s some pretty adult shit right there. In late 2013, I purchased a new video game console, and as we approach its half-birthday, I've noticed some eerie similarities to my toddler.

Only Responds to Yelling – One of the major attractions Microsoft tried to sell hard to the consumers was how their new console would be completely voice activated. Want to turn the Xbox on? Just say, “Xbox on” and it will recognize your voice and turn on. Want to do something other than game? Simply say the phrase, “Xbox go to…..” and fill in the blank and you will be binge watching Orange is the New Black on Netflix, Skyping with grandma, or even watching TV. Problem is, just like our toddler, the damn system doesn’t do what we ask of it the first, second, sometimes even the third time around. Many times I will be in the kitchen and hear my Wife yell, “XBOX ON, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!” Luckily, while just as difficult, our son receives a little bit more grace…..and I mean a little.

It’s Always Fucking Watching Me – While the last function was supposed to be cool, the next option is just downright creepy. Xbox has a built-in camera system that, according to Microsoft, is always on and is always watching, even when the system is off. So while it’s really annoying that my son follows me from room to room (even to the bathroom, where he stares at me while I handle my business), at least when he’s asleep, I know there is no risk of him popping up and filming me while I walk around in my underwear and of then somehow posting that shit on the Internet. Trust me; no one wants to see that.

May Malfunction at Any Moment – Like any new generation of equipment or technology, there are usually some kinks or bugs to work out of the system. We consumers are usually more forgiving when it comes to techie items. When my new Xbox crashes for no reason, we know a system update is right around the corner. But, where the hell is my system update for my toddler that is happy one second and then a ball of fury and flailing limbs, screaming, “NO, I DON’T WANT IT!” the next? You show me that product, Microsoft, and I will be yours for life.

The So-Called Experts Are of Little to No Help – I’ve come to learn that those times when your techie gadgets inevitably fail you (much like how your toddler will inevitably have a complete fucking meltdown in public), the people we are supposed to be able to reach out to, to help us fix our problem, are just as fucking clueless as we are. Sure, your big-box store nerd-smug-asshole behind the counter will eventually fix your hard drive. Just like whatever family member’s, doctor’s, or supposed child-raising guru’s advice might work when trying to calm your kid, but at the end of the day, they can’t ever tell you why the breakdown happened or how to prevent it from ever happening again. It’s all a bunch of finger-crossing and hoping. So in my book, that makes all of you full of shit.

Both Are a Serious Drain on My Bank Account – Having a kid was a mutual choice between me and the Wife, but buying the Xbox One (aka the $500 paperweight in our family room) was all me. Both have the exact same effect on our bank account, however; they continue to take and take and take. Both require a continuous credit line for maintenance and upkeep. Examples include buying games or new products for the Xbox One, and clothing, feeding and paying for daycare for my son. I invest so much money into both and leave me wondering what I’m really getting in return, which brings me to my last point….

How My Son Is NOT Like My Xbox – While I joke that my Xbox is a useless paperweight (and will continue to be seen as such given current release dates for new games and products), that depreciates in value daily, the same cannot be said for my son. I see my son grow and change every day. While the Xbox can easily go unused for days at a time, my Wife and I enjoy watching our son as he becomes a little person, sometimes too quickly for his Dad’s comfort. I will most likely outgrow my video game addiction someday, but I will never outgrow being a dad.