The Secret Life of Dad

“Daddy, I just want to be with you now.” The Stygian depths of self-loathing resonate with the echo of hearing this from a hopeful seven year-old and desiring instead to plug your children into whatever insipid, appropriately verboten pabulum is most conveniently handy while you shut down the tumult of a long day’s chaos in your brain by shooting virtual terrorists, ogres or space aliens. Of course, because you are a good person and not at all the selfish, absentee parent that you sometimes sorta-kinda wish you were, what you actually do is close up your laptop, put on a stiff upper lip, and get ridden around the living room like a pony until the carpet burns your knees and palms into the rosy color of a crappy Seagrams wine cooler.

I suppose I always thought, somewhere deep inside, that having kids would flip the switch in my personality that had previously allowed me to be unrepentantly self-involved. But the me that used to rush home with the latest video game and play for six or seven consecutive hours as my wife read away happily on the couch has gone nowhere. He’s still there on the inside, knowing that his gratification is frustratingly delayed until the kids are played with, and dinner is made, and fights over toy cars are mediated, and the question “Why?” is answered 975 times, and tantrums are patiently yet sternly diverted, and baths are taken, and arguments about why baths have to be taken are had and resolved, and skepticisms about whether important parts were washed to an appropriate extent are eased, and negotiations about what is and is not an appropriate bedtime are adjourned and finally there is a house full of sleep and my God is it really 11:00 and I have an appointment in the morning so this game is just going to have to wait.

This is why Killzone 3 has sat on my entertainment center unopened for two days. This is the story of being a video gaming dad.

I always worry about being honest with people on how I interpret my role as a parent, because I fear I give off the vibe of being on a kind of personal Bataan Death March through child rearing. On the other hand, I also feel like parents who talk about being parents too often want to prove what great parents they are and so are quick to Brady Bunch it all up.

Few people ever really admit, “What I really want to do is put Dora the Explorer on a DVD loop, put the kids in a padded room where they can’t hurt themselves, and spend the afternoon in a sensory deprivation tank with a bottle of Southern Comfort and a mindless, Activision-made shooter.” The reason no one ever says that is because: a) It’s never going to happen in real life; b) it unmasks the selfish monster that I have to actively restrain in my head every single day; and c) who wants to admit to wanting to play Activision games these days? But those dark circles under the eyes of parents -- those are the festering bags where we store away our shameful lazy impulses, and don’t for a second believe anyone who says otherwise.

The hardest thing to come to terms with about being a parent has always been that I don’t just stop being me because my kids want me to be this other person. I have worked hard to create this Dad identity, who is at least occasionally fair, even-handed, patient and loving—an artificial construct of Mrs. Doubtfire, Mr. Rogers and a golden retriever wrapped into one. It’s not the real me, but it is the only me with the capacity to relate to people who will still make the questionable choice of sticking a pair of nail clippers all the way into their own mouth.

I see these nature shows where a pride of lions lounge lazily in the sun while some wayward cub comes recklessly into the frame, and you just know that by the end of the shot one of those daddy-lions is going to erupt into a brief but terrifying display of “If you bite my tail one more time, I am going to eat you like a gazelle.” Every time I see that, I think that basically describes the deep secret dark of every dad I know.

My best definition of humanity is not eating your children like gazelles, even if it seems like a good idea.

It would be one thing if these lazy lions were doing something useful like their taxes instead of sunning themselves on the Veld. It would be much easier to be on the lion-daddy’s side if he were wearing a green accountant’s visor and a pair of spectacles while scowling at a stack of papers. You could say, “Well, that cub should have known better than bother him while he’s deducting the interest on his student loans, or calculating his long-term dividends.” But, he’s not. He’s doing the lion equivalent of playing a video game.

Thing is, kids are smart, and from the outside they can make you look like a complete tool. They do this all the time in the supermarket, for example. All those assumptions you make about the terrible parent whose kid is having a tantrum in front of the exit door are exactly what that kid wants you to make assumptions about, because by 17 days of life they have learned that embarrassment is their leverage. What you don’t know is that when my son is saying, “I just want to spend time with you,” there is a reasonable chance that what he means is, “I want to do something I won’t otherwise be allowed to do except under the auspices of spending time together.”

It’s like when my 1 year old learned to respond to the word “no” by just repeating it. He would wander around, grab up the remote and start changing channels randomly. I’d leap to my feet, and explain to him in the most explain-y voice I have that doing that is a “no, no, no.” Then he’d look at me with genius brimming in his eyes, and repeat “no-no-no” to me while doing exactly what he’s not supposed to do, and just like that I’m beaten. He’s just marginalized the word “no,” taken it right out of my parents’ toolbag. Now what the hell am I supposed to do? There’s only “yes” left that he has chosen to understand. So that’s it. Game over, man.

I don’t want you to have the impression that I don’t like spending time with my kids. We do it all the time, and I love it. But, honest to God, sometimes you just want to come home and play some Killzone—but you know if you do that, then just like that you’re the guy who played a game called “Killzone” instead of being a good dad and playing with your offspring (which for all practical concerns means an hour of playing Thomas the Tank Engine, only you are given Toby, who is the crappiest tank engine of all time).

As you're playing, Toby becomes a metaphor. I bet Toby never gets to play video games. I bet every time Toby gets back to the station house, just as he’s settling in to watch some TV, James, Thomas and Gordon all side up next to him and say, “Hey, Toby, let’s hang out together,” which Toby knows means that they all have something they want to watch on the television and it isn’t what he wants to watch.

My wife and I ran across some pictures of ourselves recently taken before we had kids, and those people in those pictures look about 27 years younger. We both kept commenting that we sure had grown older in the past six or seven years, and I kept trying to think of things besides having become a parent that influenced that. The only other guess I could make was, “Man, who knew the Bush years would take it out of us like that?”

I actually love being a dad. I don’t want you to imagine otherwise. The reality is that very often I do pack away the laptop or PS3, and have an amazing time with my kids. My desk at work is annoyingly littered with pictures of my boys, and when people ask me about my children I really end up making them regret asking or even knowing me in the first place. But like any work worth doing, the better a job you hope you do at it, the exponentially harder the job becomes. Parenting is, by definition, nearly constant marginalization of your own ego and impulses, and at least for me those voices in my head did not go quiet into that good night.

It’s certainly not that I never get to play games anymore. It’s just that often there is this nagging guilt associated with it. It’s time I’ve chosen not to spend with the people closest to me. I’m making a choice to invest in the unreal world instead of the one where I can have the most important impact, and I know that has consequences. So, even if I’m being totally manipulated by these miniature need-machines I’ve so recklessly helped create, I know my job is to put on this created Dad identity and go be a positive influence in a young life.

Except, of course, for those times where I’m close to finishing an important WoW quest. Then I just turn on an episode of Arthur for the kids so I can get that phat loot!

Comments

BlackSabre wrote:

Awesome piece. Just awesome.

Absolutely correct. Sean, thanks for confirming that I'm not the only one.

The podcast is great, but the reason I donate is articles like this.

See, I just get my kids into gaming. Or try to, anyway. My five-year-old will happily sit with me while we play Emergency 4 or Farming Simulator 2011. Of course, the downside of that is that you have to play Emergency 4 or Farming Simulator 2011.

This is spot on... It's also the reason so many of my pile games still have the plastic on them.

Great article, perfect insight, nicely conveyed.

clever id wrote:
BlackSabre wrote:

Awesome piece. Just awesome.

Absolutely correct. Sean, thanks for confirming that I'm not the only one.

The podcast is great, but the reason I donate is articles like this.

QFT

If it's any consolation, the kids are asleep, and Elysium is happily immersed in Killzone at this moment. Sometimes dads do get to just be gamers, after all.

My two and a half year old is totally fascinated with Just Cause 2. On weekends, when we have a little free time, all he wants to do is "watch the airplanes." So, he sits on my lap while I find cars to drive around and airplanes to fly and very, very carefully avoid shooting anybody or blowing anything up or running anybody over.

I've made frustratingly little actual progress in the game.

Elysia wrote:

If it's any consolation, the kids are asleep, and Elysium is happily immersed in Killzone at this moment. Sometimes dads do get to just be gamers, after all. :)

And I think I can collectively thank our long suffering partners for their understanding and tolerance of our obsessions hobbies.

SUPERGOOD!!!

Elysia wrote:

If it's any consolation, the kids are asleep, and Elysium is happily immersed in Killzone at this moment. Sometimes dads do get to just be gamers, after all. :)

Whoohoo! Victory is his!

I too, followed this one for no reason other than it seemed as though you'd been writing my thoughts on the internet for all to see. And honestly, I don't think it's so bad to want to spend some time to yourself every now and again. I'm pretty sure every parent out there has those times when they need to detach kids from their leg/waist/back/shoulders etc. I too love rolling around with my kids. I love reading, or playing trucks, or throwing a baseball around in the yard. But the desire to just stare at a monitor, or the TV, with control device in hand is usually there in the back of my noodle, nearly always without fail.

michaelar wrote:

Sean, you continue to amaze me with your laser-like insight into life's subtleties. I assure you this is universally felt -- not just by gamers, but by anyone with any hobby/interest -- and too seldom discussed. The transition from nearly-unlimited personal freedom to the responsibilities of fatherhood is among the most important -- perhaps the most important, if you're doing it properly -- rite of passage of a man's life. Before my children were born, I was warned "your life will change utterly and completely, forever"; clearly this was a massive understatement.

This goes quadruple for those of us going through a divorce. The prospect of losing that everyday time with them will put the fear of God into you, I assure you. The desire to set them aside and play the game of the moment is vaporized once there is a real risk of their absence from your life. Let's make sure to always -- always -- appreciate what we have, dads. Toby isn't so bad, at least for a little while.

This is way too true. This is yet another example of why this is my favorite site and the kind of thing i point to when i tell people. No no it's a different kind of gaming site, inarticulate teenagers need not apply.

Amoebic wrote:
jdzappa wrote:

That being said, why is the kid up till 10:30-11? I remember my mom and dad would always shuffle me off to bed by 9 on weekdays.

You seem to have been one of those blessed children that would go to bed and stay down, or at least play in your room quietly enough to not be stopped because you were too loud. : )

FTFY. At least that's what my parents tell me how it was with me. Of course, I made up for being good like that in other areas.

I too, followed this one for no reason other than it seemed as though you'd been writing my thoughts on the internet for all to see. And honestly, I don't think it's so bad to want to spend some time to yourself every now and again. I'm pretty sure every parent out there has those times when they need to detach kids from their leg/waist/back/shoulders etc. I too love rolling around with my kids. I love reading, or playing trucks, or throwing a baseball around in the yard. But the desire to just stare at a monitor, or the TV, with control device in hand is usually there in the back of my noodle, nearly always without fail.

Yes, this. While I struggle sometimes and fend off the desire to set the boy in front of Dora or Bob the Builder and huddle behind him on my laptop, I also realize that parents DO still need some lone leisure time (work doesn't count). It's as necessary for your mental health as exercise is for your body. And if you're really going to take care of your kid well and for a long time, you have to make it a priority to also take care of yourself.

If you die of heart failure or go mentally ballistic because you didn't force time for exercise and adult leisure-time, you certainly aren't doing your kids any favors. A healthy happy dad for 30 hours a week is much better for your kid than a miserable self-sacrificing wretch for 40 hours a week. There's a balance to be found. And sometimes that means on a Saturday afternoon, Mom can run him out for a playdate while I stay home and stake out some unhindered me-time (or vice versa).

For what it's worth, I consider it a wonderful sign when any parent is in danger with spending too much time with their children, rather than defaulting to too little.

jdzappa wrote:

That being said, why is the kid up till 10:30-11? I remember my mom and dad would always shuffle me off to bed by 9 on weekdays.

The kid isn't necessarily up till 10:30. However, bedtime + dishes + laundry + general cleanup + chatting with SO to remember that sometimes adults can talk together, too + finding stuff for school tomorrow + more general cleanup + paying bills + making that phone to your mother so you can stop feeling guilty + last cleaning for tonight, I swear... Yeah, that sounds like 11 o'clock without too much effort.

Nice article, Ely. I'm going through the same things (because I have kids, obv), but, after reading the Child Enablement thread, am trying to spend more time focusing on my kids - one at a time - and less time herding them. It's making things much easier, so far at least.

polq37 wrote:

My two and a half year old is totally fascinated with Just Cause 2.

My son loves this game as well. Half the time he just drives around politely obeying traffic laws hehe.

I write this in break from Killzone, since my wife, not knowing the UK release schedule, unwittingly took my kids to her sister's for the day!

I am currently blessed with a 3 year daughter who says, at least once a day, "Please can we play Super Mario Galaxy 2 on the big telly, Daddy?"

Yep, she always uses the full title of the game. She is too young for assistant duties (no, I won't use the designated appellation for the star collector when talking about my princess!), so she just shouts encouragement, howls with delight when she sees Yoshi, and so on.

I always say, with the smug self righteousness of a dad who knows that he would be in for a 7 hours session if I were left to my own devices: "Of course, but only for a little while."

In the "I know it won't last, but I'll damn well enjoy it whilst it does" category, she sleeps from 7pm until 8am and never wakes up in the night. Even more amazingly, so does my 4 month old son!

Of course, there are many times when all I want to do is find new and original ways to dissect zombies in Dead Rising 2, and can't, so I kow whereof Sean speaks, and I know that my gaming time will reduce as they get older. I never expected to or wanted to have my love of games diminish, and it certainly hasn't, but taking my daughter swimming or sitting my son on my chest and pulling faces at him is always a worthwhile replacement.

I don't have kids, but I really enjoyed this piece nonetheless. Nice one, Mr. Sands.

You pen my thoughts so much more eloquently that I could. I'm glad that you seem to have access to them. Just stay out of that back corner behind the saloon doors.

Dang. Diametrically opposed again. Who'd a thunk it?

I don't get embarrassed by anything my kids do in public. If I have to discipline them in public, that's exactly what I do. If that means leaving them in an aisle I know is safe (or am secretly cordoning off), then I'm going to leave them tantrumming there until the message is well and truly understood:

"Tantrums get me nothing."

I have no compunctions about telling my kids to go play somewhere or something else when I'm playing Mass Effect 2, because I don't really care what my neighbors or mother-in-law will think. I'm parenting my way. The only other opinion that counts is my wife's.

It is probably for that reason that my children likewise don't have any compunctions about telling me to mind my own business when I'm trying to angle for an invite to their tea party. Apparently, tea parties are not for Dads. Ever.

It hurts to be told off that way, but I don't want my kids to grow up thinking that they have to do things to please other people. Sometimes, that's necessary in adult life; but at the heart of it all, I want them to learn to do what they want and to be in touch with what they want - to be comfortable in their own skins, figuratively speaking.

I put down the controller from time to time to play with my kids, but when I do that, it's always with a whole heart, and I'm sure that they can tell.

Chumpy_McChump wrote:
jdzappa wrote:

That being said, why is the kid up till 10:30-11? I remember my mom and dad would always shuffle me off to bed by 9 on weekdays.

The kid isn't necessarily up till 10:30. However, bedtime + dishes + laundry + general cleanup + chatting with SO to remember that sometimes adults can talk together, too + finding stuff for school tomorrow + more general cleanup + paying bills + making that phone to your mother so you can stop feeling guilty + last cleaning for tonight, I swear... Yeah, that sounds like 11 o'clock without too much effort.

Nice article, Ely. I'm going through the same things (because I have kids, obv), but, after reading the Child Enablement thread, am trying to spend more time focusing on my kids - one at a time - and less time herding them. It's making things much easier, so far at least.

See this is why I love turn-based games like Civ V. Ok, just a few more turns to build that space shuttle module ... argh!! France just attacked me. When I get back from moving the clothes out of the dryer I'm turning Paris into a parking lot with my stealth bombers and death robots.

LarryC wrote:

Apparently, tea parties are not for Dads. Ever. It hurts to be told off that way..

My kids mirror my behavior good or bad.

Just sayin'

One of your best pieces, Sean. Thanks!

Ghostship wrote:
LarryC wrote:

Apparently, tea parties are not for Dads. Ever. It hurts to be told off that way..

My kids mirror my behavior good or bad.

Just sayin'

I know. That was kind of the point. I want them to behave this way. It's just hurtful to me as a dad to have to let them go their own way sometimes. I expect this will only get harder.

Excellent article Sean, as always you write what I think and compose it in a way that I cannot, thanks for sharing.
Now I am really a proud dad of a 6 year old boy who has finished by himself New Super Mario Bros Wii..... ... and my little 4 year old girl is trying really hard to advance on Kirbys epic yarn!... and love to play and share with them this... and also all the normal activities outside, soccer, bycicle, RC cars, playing with barbies, etc., etc.

Nice article, can relate to a lot of things in there. Still, as far as gaming goes, before having kids I always had the sense I had to play more or that I hadn't play enough, now it is really the same ;).

BTW, my 3 year old and I enjoys the Crash Time series. He likes driving along the railroad lines, sort of shows his reckless personality.

The lion analogy doesn't quite work, because the lions aren't actually being selfish. Carnivores in the wild expend a huge amount of energy hunting, and when they're not hunting they have to conserve as much energy as they can, otherwise they burn too many calories and won't be able to hunt again.

In humans it would be the equivalent of being a running back for a professional football team, but if you don't score at least two touchdowns PER DAY, your entire family starves to death.

Otherwise, great article. Very much taps into the problem of transitioning from a single person with virtually no responsibilities to a full blown adult. The id that you used to be able to indulge doesn't go away, because it gets trounced by the power of the id that is a child's entire personality for the first few years of life. It's only natural that your inner child would get envious of the attention you are obligated to divert away from it. The hard part is getting your ego to accept the fact that you can't indulge your inner child like you used to, while simultaneously shutting your superego up when it tries to make you feel guilty for having the selfish impulses in the first place.

For me it's been a struggle sometimes, especially after we had our second. The challenge comes in because my 18 month old son has exactly the same circadium rythms as I do, which means he goes to sleep early and wakes up early. The good news is that he goes to bed at 8PM, which gives me an hour and a half with my wife before I have to go to bed. And if I'm lucky he'll go to sleep easily, which might give me about fifteen or twenty minutes by myself while my wife is putting our daughter down for the night.

The bad news is that he wakes up between 5 and 6 in the morning, which means I have to get up at 4AM just so I can shower for work before he starts yelling because he's bored. (Incidentally, this is why I go to bed at 930 on work nights) And I can't leave him in the crib being bored, because he'll figure out how to climb out of his crib and hurt himself, which means we'll have to train him to use a bed, which is not something I'm looking forward to considering how hard it was with our daughter.

The end result is that when I'm home I get almost zero time to myself ever. If I'm very lucky, my son will sleep to 6:30 which would give me time to play Far Cry 2 or Minecraft, except I don't fire up Far Cry 2 or Minecraft because I know at any second he'll start crying and I'll just have to turn it off again. My only other respite is the bathroom, and I can't spend too much time in there because it's unfair to my wife to leave her with both kids while I go play Fruit Ninja on my iPhone on the crapper.

So I've had to train myself to accept that I don't get time to myself anymore, which I suppose is the essence of being a second level parent (two kids): Once you become one, there will never be a time that somebody doesn't need you for something unti the kids are grown up and moved out.

It's perfectly summed up by what Quintus said in the movie Gladiator:

Sometimes I do what I want to do. The rest of the time, I do what I have to.

Becoming okay with this simple fact is the challenge every parent faces.

Yeah what is UP with Toby anyway? He doesn't even look like a train engine. He's like a ratty old boxcar with a chimney slapped on top. When I play Thomas with my boy, he knows that Daddy gets to play Spencer, the biggest, most modern-looking engine we have, every time. Every time.

Unless he starts shouting "no-no-no!"

AcidCat wrote:
polq37 wrote:

My two and a half year old is totally fascinated with Just Cause 2.

My son loves this game as well. Half the time he just drives around politely obeying traffic laws hehe.

After watching me play it, my 3 year old used to constantly ask me to "play the truck-crashing show again!" I tried to focus on the vehicular mayhem while he was watching - not so much of the bloody headshots and flinging guys to their death with the grapple hook...

Sean, a wonderful article. I'm tempted to let my wife read it, but I'm not sure if it would make me look better or worse.

I picked up (casual) WoW again, and my 3.5 year old sits in my lap while I play it for a little bit before bedtime. I'm levelling my mage and so I'm the mage and she's my water elemental and we shine lights on guys until they go to sleep... Well, she's buying it.

And yesterday, she drew me a picture of the keyboard, the screen and me and her on the screen having adventures. It's a beautiful thing. The key of course is balance. And the guilt-laden "Do you want to you..." is a staple of the young child's armory.

As for getting the kids to bed, cleaning up: Our 10 month old is in bed (and asleep) by 7 pm. The 3.5 year old is in bed (and asleep or not, at least quiet - which is all one should be concerned about) by 8 pm. My wife and I have an assembly line of prepping, eating and cleaning up from dinner, baths, hand-offs of children, more baths, reading, dessert eating, putting down that gives us a blessed couple of hours each night to ourselves.

We have also worked out a reward (bribery) system with our 3.5 year old for the whole sleeping/staying in your room issue. We have a white board where if she stays in her room all night from when mommy and daddy say goodnight until after 6 am (we're early risers) she gets a check mark on the board.

5 checkmarks and she gets a special treat that she picked out beforehand and is dangled like a lure in sight every day. These are small things. So far: a Toy Story flashlight, a pack of gum, Hello Kitty hand fan, a small package of gummi bears etc. And she loves it. I actually kind of view it as WoW questing and working toward the goal of a level. It teaches her patience, delayed gratification and she stays in her room!

Sadly, the 10-month old is so far unable to grasp the system and continues to wake up before 6 am...

My now 1 year old daughter has the same effect on me. My wife bought me Mass Effect 2 as a Valentines Day gift last year. The next day, my daughter was born. She was nearly 4 months old before I started ME2.

I also received battlefield Bad Company 2 for Christmas. I just took the shrink wrap of it yesterday.

I still love gaming and I think of my PC as my first baby (shhhh..don't tell my wife) but my daughter comes first...ALWAYS.

Now if I could just get her to play Sins of a Solar Empire with me....

Louis CK's material sure helps with the guilt

Right there with you guys. The children come first, and every moment not spent with them is lost for ever. Interestingly, both my 5 and 1.5 year olds are heavily addicted to Joe Danger, and need to be swatted physically away from the bottomless gaming silos that are my iPhone and iPad. I wonder how that happened