Learner Dad: It’s great to know more than your dad when you’re six

My son has dreams about Minecraft, the video game that he plays on Nintendo. In case you haven’t heard, Minecraft is supposed to the digital version of Lego, but there is a lot of stealing stuff off innocent villagers and killing pigs as well. So, as you can imagine, my six year old is all in. 

When he’s not playing it or dreaming about it, he’s asking me questions about it. I don’t actually know the most dangerous mob in the nether, which gives him a thrill, because it’s great to know more than your dad when you’re six. That said, I spend a lot of time pretending I’m listening to him banging on about survival mode when we could be making a connection.

In the olden days, I’d probably have put a weekend ban on Minecraft and forced him to come fishing with me. That will probably scar him for life and anyway I hate fishing. I’d much rather kill imaginary villagers than real fish. 

So 2021 is the year when I develop a Minecraft addiction.

Bang the drum: 

My eight year old plays Minecraft, but without the obsession, because she’s not a boy. She has the music in her though. Not singing, she might have inherited too much of my voice there. But she pretty much danced out of the womb – she has the rhythm.

 I used to have it too until March of last year, when Covid put a stop to my African drumming (djembe) classes. It wouldn’t say I was much good at it, but there is a magic in banging a drum with strangers for two hours in a small room, high above a shop that sells incense and crystals.  The real magic is the people stop being strangers after a few weeks and you end up making music together, the kind of music that’s good for the mind. 

I bought a set of bongos last year and my daughter would bash away at those while I played the djembe. We didn’t do it nearly enough, looking back at it. 

There won’t be any drumming circles in a small room above a shop for the first few months of 2021. So I’m going to make a mini-circle with my daughter for two hours a week. Apologies to my neighbours in advance.

Super sanctions: 

The dead of winter is a tricky time when you have kids around the house. The trampoline, which was their little world during the first lockdown, is damp and out of bounds . The upshot is they’re full of energy. We’ve tried to channel that into housework, but no dice. They’re barely tidying up their own mess, let alone polishing the stairs. 

T he biggest problem is we’re running out of threats. Taking Nintendo time off them seems like a good idea, until you get to their normal Nintendo time on a Friday night, and now they’re standing in front of you, saying the word ‘bored’ on a loop. 

Sometimes I find myself going, ‘Right, that’s it’, and they stare at me waiting for some kind of punishment, but I haven’t got one that scares them enough, so they just end up laughing at me . I won’t pretend I know what this super sanction is going to be – but I plan to spend 2021 chasing after it. If you have any suggestions, maybe hit me up on Twitter.

Phone time: 

I hate the people who equate too much phone time with bad parenting. I remember my parents ‘hiding’ behind the Cork Examiner when we were young, and now that I have kids of my own, I see where they were going. To a place where they didn’t have to deal with kids for a few minutes, that’s where. 

I’m a much nicer person after listening to a Blindboy podcast or reading an article about Manchester United’s problems at right-back on my phone. If I don’t carve out some time out for myself in 2021, no one else will. So if I’m not drumming, playing Minecraft or threatening my kids, I’ll be looking at my phone.