Dear Minecraft, This is NOT a Love Letter

Dear Minecraft,

This is not a love letter.  This is a not hate letter.  This is a "if I have to listen to one more story about Minecraft from my eight year old, I am going to lose my ever-lovin' mind" letter.  I do hope you understand.

You see, here's how my day goes.  Let's say it's a school day.  I get everyone up and fed and dressed. There are four of them so I feel pretty accomplished by the time we tumble into the minivan.  The very second the car is in motion, it begins. See, my son is a smart kid and he knows he has a captive audience.  I can't do anything else while I'm driving except listen.

So, Minecraft peeps, I listen.

And I listen.

And I listen.

Here's what it sounds like:

"Mom, something-stuff-something-Creeper-other stuff-and still more.  Right?"

"Um . . . ."  That's me. I'm normally able to make words and sentences but at the moment, I can't.  You know why?  I understand none of his words.  Not one.

He continues, not at all concerned about my confused expression. "Then, more stuff--blah-blah--Steve--more words--still more and more stuff and more stuff.  I'm in survival mode."

"Me too, kid.  Me too," I reply back.

And from the peanut gallery, my two year old daughter pipes in with, "It's Minecrap.  It's Minecrap."  Her words.  Not mine, I swear.

I won't bore you with the rest of the conversation.  Mostly because I can't put it into words.

I see the educational value in Minecraft.  It's like virtual Legos. Players can build dwellings and grow plants and spawn spiders.  This virtual world is all theirs, right down to the names they give the items in their world. It helps them to stretch their math and engineering skills as well as their creativity.

It's good stuff.  It's great stuff.  It's just that I can't hear about it one more time.

A year and a half ago, when my son discovered Minecraft, he was initially frustrated.  He started coming to me and asking me to help him.  To me!  So, I had a decision to make.  Do I learn how to "do Minecraft" or not?  Did I really want to become the "do it for me" Minecraft person in our house?

Please hear my loud and resounding "NO!"

When his father and I couldn't much help, he turned to the only place he knew could--YouTube.  And that's where we met the Minecraft YouTube guy.  I don't know his name but I do know his voice.  I hear it in my dreams.  He's yelling at me a lot.  He always seems to be yelling.  But I will say this, over the last year, my son has become quite competent in Minecraft.  He struggled and got annoyed and frustrated but, and maybe this makes me sound like the big meanie mom I am often called, I liked that.  He figured out how to do it on his own and that gave him a sense of ownership and pride. That's pretty sweet.

It's just that if I hear one more play by play (or should I say block by block?) I am literally going to lose my mind.  My mind is already in limited supply.  Remember, four kids.

So, Minecraft developers, on your next update, please consider the rest of us who suffer through agonizing daily Minecraft reports.  Please consider those of us who make appropriate encouraging noises at appropriate times and still have no idea what's being said.  Please consider us.  

Thank you so much for your time and consideration.  May I leave you with a small suggestion? Perhaps you should consider creating a Minecraft version for adults in which the blocks are made of chocolate and the person that builds the biggest wine bottle reigns supreme?  Now, that's a version of Minecraft I could get behind.

Sincerely and neither fully in love or hate, but a little bit of both,

That-Kid-Who-Plays-Mindcraft's Mom