Roblox, Minecraft and other games I’ve never played

Good day to you all, and I do hope this blog finds you as well as can be, not sunburnt I hope but enjoying this lovely weather.

So today I thought we could discuss Roblox, Minecraft and other things that I had to ask my children how to spell.  There is always the question of “how much time is my child spending on their gaming devices” and “is it ruining their brains”?  Well, I’ve done some investigating, and have carried out my market research on two unsuspecting candidates.  Let’s set the scene –

Me as mummy thinks they spend too much bloody time playing games. They should be either speaking to each other in French, designing clothes for their dolls (which I’ve just noticed are all in the bag to go to the charity shop), singing, playing instruments, and begging me to teach them how to create amazing and deliciously healthy salads.  OK, so maybe it’s me. Maybe I do live on a different planet after all, but in all seriousness I do question how much time they’re spending on their computers.  The girls think much differently. They argue that when they’re on their computers, they are a) not asking me things (true), b) not roaming the streets looking for trouble (possibly because we’re in lockdown and one of them is only 8 years old and not allowed out without a grown up) and c) they are still socialising with their friends.

Naturally, number c raised alarm bells. Oh my god, the girls are being groomed and have made friends online. This has to stop now, and so this is how I got involved in trying to understand their gaming. 

They had completed home school for the day, it was one minute past 3 and anything I was trying to say to them with regards to learning was met with a ‘talk to the hand’ hand, and a shout of “can we go on our computers now please?” They had to actually ask twice because I’d just sat down to a serious game of Candy Crush and had zoned out of real life. On the second time they asked I must have nodded or something because they disappeared and the house was silent, apart from the beautiful melodies coming out of Google Home and Kerrang radio.

When I’d run out of my own five lives, and knew I had to wait 26 minutes, I thought I would check up on what was taking so much of my daughter’s lives away from my Enid Blyton fantasies.  “Why don’t you write a letter to your friends?” I suggested.  I was answered by the smaller child explaining that they were writing to their friends, but in Roblox. “Hang on” I yelled at them, “who are these people you are talking to and have they asked where you live and what school you go to?” “Why would they when they go to our schools and they’re already our school friends” was the answer. 

I was allowed to see two of Lucy’s friends profiles and one of Mollys. The chat was suitably dull, boring and non-sensical so I was happy that they were their true friends, and that they only had a small handful kept me happy they weren’t befriending any old Tom, Dick or Harrys. A quick text to the mum’s of the friends confirmed we were also OK.

But I still think they should be reading books, knitting (but nothing for me to have to wear thank you) or rescuing lost animals in the garden rather than playing games. So I challenged them again. “Why don’t you go and read?” I suggested. “We’re reading now” was the quick answer from Molly.  “Look, people are posting chats and we’re reading them. I can even tell you that blonkydonkeywoowoo23 has written that down grammatically wrong Mummy”.  See, these kids know how to get me. Grrr.  Happier in the knowledge that they’re acknowledging other people’s spelling and grammar mistakes ticked off my list of other things they should be doing.  What could I challenge them with next?

“Do you want to play a game where we can learn about life and money and the world?” was my next suggestion.

“I’m at work” Lucy replied. “I own a pet shop and a pizzeria. I need to recruit a new waiter, and I have a bunch of pets that are about to spawn so I need to take care of them until they’re old enough to be sold.  When I sell them, I’ll be buying a new house!”

All my planned educational talks …. Boom. Shot down in one sentence, by a proactive, money making (albeit robucks) 8 year old.

“Aah!” my final attempt. “But you’re stuck indoors and not getting out in the fresh air!”

“Do you really want us to get sunburnt Mummy?” Molly has now got the gist of this game and is answering me before I’ve even finished my sentences. “We’ve taken the dog out, hung the washing out, can you go and play Candy Crush or something please, we’re busy!”

Point taken.  So my view on these games – I suppose some of them aren’t as bad as others. I suppose if they’ve done everything I’ve asked them to do, one of the kids wears glasses already so she’s not going to need glasses from staring at her screen and actually my lives have just reloaded on Candy Crush, so …. Until next time!