But, first let's read Lizbeth's story:
Like all great things, it started with an idea. One simple little idea. I had a moment and damn-it I was going to make something of it.
Alex has been perseverating on his i-touch, i-pad, hell anything with an "i" in front of it, he's stuck on it. He's fixated on one game in particular and we use that game to help calm him down as well as using it as a reward.
"Hey Alex, do you want to play that game...what do you call it? Spice Wars? You want to friend me and we can play together?" I thought I'd tapped on to some great, like that Bakken Oil reserve up in North Dakota. A wealth of opportunity had just opened up and I had visions of us playing, laughing and blasting the shit out of aliens who wanted their next fix of Spice. We were going to smash, kill and blow things up and damn-it we were going to have fun.
"Ugggh, mom. It's called Spice Bandits, not Spice Wars. Ugggh, everyone know that."
"Um well no, I didn't know that." I guess everyone but your mother knows but anyway.....
"So did you want to friend me? Come on, it will be fun. You can teach me." And that, right there, was the dangling carrot. Alex loves to teach, to be in control. He can't resist passing up a teaching moment, even with his own mother. What he had yet to realize was that I'm a bumbling idiot with all the i-technology.
"OK, I'll friend you! I can teach you too, this is going to be so cool. We can gang up on dad and we can destroy his Spice."
"Err, OK." I had no idea what he was talking about but it was my turn to get involved with all this i-stuff and we were going to blast things, and kill things and damn-it we were going to have fun.
I soon learned.
First I got the tutorial. In the shower, at dinner, brushing teeth, on the toilet. Everywhere I went, I was being educated about the value of "spice points." It was like the kid was speaking Latin.
The first game we played he basted me out of the water in under thirty seconds. I think I said something like, "Wait, that's it? I died?? Did you just kill me? I thought we were playing together? I don't even know what color I am. Alex, what color am I? You just killed your own mother, dude, thats so not cool."
He started laughing and said, "Well mom, we were playing against each other. This is a Spice War. You're green."
"But Alex, this is my first game and I'm on level one. That's not fair. Wait, what level are you on anyway?"
"Well mom, I gave you the tutorial. If you weren't listening, that's your own fault. I'm on level 52."
"What??? You're on level 52? Well how
in the hell am I suppose to beat you at that?"
He just started with this maniacal laugh, "Hahah! Mom, this is great! See, every time I kill you, I get more Spice and my experience gets better and better. That means I'm able to upgrade the more I kill you. Come on, lets play again. I want to kill you some more!"
Alex soon learned I sucked. I sucked horribly at Spice Bandits.
I soon learned I hated Spice Bandits worse than put-put. And I hate put-put worse than sitting in an IEP and being told my son is doing OK and getting communication notes with smiley faces on them, all the while he comes home and curls up into the fetal position.
Yeah, I learned I hate Spice Bandits that much.
Anyway, after about twenty kills in under thirty seconds I got sick of being slaughtered so we switched over to cooperative mode. He still kicked my ass. "Oh God Mom, you let the enemies in again! You made us loose. That's not where I told you to put your guns and mines. You didn't upgrade. You made me loose the game! I'm losing Spice Experience. Accck."
Spice Experience??? I still don't know what that is.
I kept trying until I got the ultimate dismissal. My son revoked his game with me. He pulled the plug. He ended it.
I asked him where our game went and he said, "I couldn't handle it. You kept making me loose all my Spice so I quit playing with you. Even when I kill you my experience goes up but it's not worth it anymore. I'm too good. Maybe you should try Hanging again."
I should try Hanging?!?
Somebody shoot me.
Four Sea Stars where she writes about her life as a SAHM to four kids (three here and one in heaven) and her adventures with her oldest son who has Aspergers.