If you ask question to a decade-back-version-of mine, I would not have impressed you much with a witty answer, but at least I would have answered something. Though I never claim myself to have a vibrant mind, I was happy with a decent one that I have got, that puts 2 and 2 and says 4 in a matter of minutes.
In short, simple analytical mind with some basic logical reasoning. All well till the turmoil begins to set in after kids. I started to see some steep difference in my mind, post kids.
It started with something as simple as making my kid to wash his hands.
I would ask him politely to go wash his dirt drowned fingers, with the same state of mind that added 2 and 2, and produced results accurately.
But here comes the twist. Half a hour would pass, and the little man I was having conversation with, will be doing pretty much everything, that includes, biting her sister, throwing paper rockets to toilets, and running naked around the home with a sense of exhilaration, but you can’t see his hands anyway near the water.
Another 30 or so minutes would pass by , with me repeating the hand washing request in various sound decibels that ranges from literally begging to a loud sharp scream, but nothing could take the dirt off his tiny hands.
For a onlooker, it might look like a casual-mom-and-son encounter. But it is not. Truth is far from that. A very far from that.
Inside the mind of a vexed mother, it could even be close to a disaster. At least it was for me. Because it defies the basic law of a simple request-response scenario.
Pre-motherhood, in my world, if I want a intended response, all I have to do is frame a right request. In short, ask 2 + 2. I will get an answer. I might even get a wrong one sometimes. But that’s okay. Understandable. Even fine too. The point is, a request is made, a response is received. Simple. Concise. Sweet.
Now my request to son plays likes this..
I would ask a request, reframe it in low volume, repeat it again for 10 or so times, reframe it again in high volume, repeat it again for 20 or so times, only to reframe it once gain with few threatening adjectives in front, middle and where not!
See where it takes…
Needless to mention the sadness it caused when I see him still running naked across the room in high spirit. It’s just that, his conscious part of mind is sealed in gleeful world that doesn’t bother to let his shrieking mom’s request.
Sometimes all the hopeless feelings that a mother entertains in her heart, is after all, not fake. All these utter lack of respect for a simple wish is too much for one to handle.
It makes one lose sanity. Shatters confidence. Does many other nasty things to mind.
When you really understand, through your own experiential level, that no amount of soft to screaming tones, could convince a little mind to go about washing his hands, you are really in the edge of life. I am not over exaggerating, if that’s what I am leading you to. It is a daily endeavor at home, one you need to go through, to get the taste of this pain.
That’s how my sudden interest on psychology happened. I need to know, how kids mind works, not for the boy of course, but for my own sanity and such. I can’t take this abuse any more. So, just to remain unshaken from kids-oriented-trauma, I have been reading a ton lot books from all revered authors who has delved deep into kids psyche. Wish me well.
My Quest 