In our household, wooden peg puzzles are a staple for our little ones. I began collecting these colorful toys when my first child was just a year old. We have puzzles featuring letters, numbers, shapes, colors, and animals—you name it! I thought these would be a delightful way to introduce my kids to the basics of learning. While my three-year-old has long outgrown them, she now confidently associates the letter K with “Key,” the letter X with “X-Ray,” and T with “Daddy’s Tie.”
My youngest, a 16-month-old, still enjoys playing with them regularly. Although he hasn’t mastered the art of fitting the pieces back yet, we work on it together, just as I did with his sister. By the end of the day, the puzzles inevitably end up in a jumbled pile, with pieces scattered everywhere. Each night, I find myself kneeling on the floor, painstakingly returning the “A” to its apple slot and matching the blue fish tail with its corresponding blue fish head. It’s a nightly ritual, a chore like any other. Some pieces go missing for days, and I find myself scouring the house because if the puzzles are incomplete and disassembled, what’s the point of having them? How will my son learn to match the number 5 piece with the five butterflies if the pieces are always lost?
My husband, on the other hand, doesn’t see the value in this nightly routine. His solution often involves simply tossing all the pieces into a heap. Occasionally, when he steps on a rogue pig peg piece, he grumbles about throwing them away due to the mess they create. He fails to understand why I place such importance on putting them back together each night. Convincing him to help is a battle I’ve stopped fighting; it’s always my responsibility. And surprisingly, I do it willingly, even when exhaustion sets in.
We’ve been together for over 11 years and married for 7. We met when I was 23, and he was 24. Before Brian, I had a couple of serious relationships, none lasting more than a year—more like a tragic series of misadventures. But by the time I met him, I had a clearer idea of what I didn’t want, and a decent sense of what I did want.
When he came into my life, I felt incredibly fortunate. He was everything I had hoped to find and more. We fell in love, moved in together, and eventually tied the knot. Eight years into our relationship and four years into marriage, we welcomed our first child. Who could’ve predicted the whirlwind that was coming?
Becoming a mother transformed me in ways I never anticipated. I knew it would be challenging, rewarding, and life-altering, but understanding what that truly meant was impossible until I experienced it firsthand. How could I have known that I would evolve from the girl who confidently knew what she didn’t want into someone facing the challenges of motherhood? How would I ever realize that wooden puzzles, writing, and issues affecting women would become integral to my life’s journey?
In the early days of our relationship, we seemed to fit together seamlessly. We shared similar ideas and values, and our differences didn’t feel significant. But as our family grew, the pieces of our lives multiplied and became more complex. Now, our puzzle has more pieces than slots, and some are completely missing. Currently, we find ourselves at odds regarding how to put everything back together.
It’s enough to make anyone want to escape. Yet, the most significant aspect of our journey is that neither of us is running away. No one is throwing in the towel. I’m grateful for that.
As for my perspective in this puzzle, I’m focusing on the fact that my husband knows these wooden puzzles by heart. He has spent countless hours kneeling beside our children, piecing them together. I’m trying to soften, to adapt, and to reshape my understanding to fit this new dynamic because I cherish it.
I won’t stop assembling the puzzles anytime soon—that’s my role. But I’m also learning to respect his different approach. I believe all couples hit these crossroads at some point, where they must reassess how the pieces of their lives will fit together on the new ground they occupy.
Some changes feel overwhelming, and everything seems to require adjustment. Right now, we are both being shaped by the fires of transformation, and I won’t lie, it hurts. It’s a painful process. There are no guarantees about what we’ll look like when we emerge from this trial, but I hold onto the hope that together, we will rediscover how to fit together. As I write this, I sense a few of those pieces starting to align.
At this moment, I’m trying to endure the heat for the sake of our family’s structure. I’m focusing on the hand shaping me, realizing that the only way to transform something tough into something flexible is through pressure and heat. It’s tough work to become softer, but I’m giving it my all. We’re both working hard, and that has to mean something, right?
If you’re interested in exploring more about home insemination, check out this insightful post on our other blog, Home Insemination Kit. For those looking into fertility options, Make A Mom is a trusted source. For a broader understanding of fertility, I recommend visiting Science Daily for excellent resources.
In summary, navigating the complexities of parenthood and partnership can feel like piecing together a chaotic puzzle. While the journey is fraught with challenges, the commitment to work through them together is a testament to love and resilience.