In our household, we have an array of wooden peg puzzles that have been a staple since our first child was just a toddler. I began collecting these educational tools with the intention of introducing my children to fundamental concepts like letters, numbers, shapes, and colors. While my three-year-old has largely lost interest in them, she has made some impressive associations—she now connects the letter K with “Key,” X with “X-Ray,” and T with “Daddy’s Tie.”
My youngest, who is just 16 months old, still enjoys playing with these puzzles. He’s not quite adept at putting them together solo, but we work through them as a team, much like I did with his sister. Each night, I find myself on my knees, returning the A to its Apple slot and matching the blue fish tail to the blue fish head. It’s a routine, albeit a mundane one. On some occasions, pieces go missing for days, and I find myself anxiously searching for them. After all, what’s the use of puzzles if they’re incomplete? How can my son learn to connect the number 5 piece with five butterflies if they’re perpetually scattered?
My husband, on the other hand, views this nightly ritual as unnecessary. His solution is to gather all the pieces into a jumbled heap each evening. Occasionally, he steps on a stray pig peg, and with a sigh, he suggests tossing them out due to the mess they create. He struggles to understand my reasoning for wanting to keep everything organized and put together, and he rarely lends a hand in this endeavor. It has become my solitary duty, and I fulfill it, despite the exhaustion.
After over 11 years together and seven years of marriage, our journey began when I was 23 and he was 24. Before him, I had a few serious relationships that never lasted more than a year. It was a series of mistakes, but I emerged with a clearer understanding of what I didn’t want, and a decent idea of what I did.
Meeting David felt like a stroke of luck. He embodied everything I had sought and more. We fell in love, moved in together, and eventually tied the knot. Eight years into our partnership and four years into our marriage, we welcomed our first child, blissfully unaware of the challenges ahead. Who could ever truly prepare for such a monumental life shift?
Becoming a mother transformed my identity in ways I never anticipated. I was aware it would be challenging and rewarding, that it would be a cornerstone of my life, and that it would “change everything,” as everyone kept reminding me. But how could I have known the depth of that statement? How could I have foreseen the metamorphosis from the person I was 11 years prior, who had a decent grasp of her desires, to someone who would be pushed to confront her flaws and embrace profound change?
When we began our relationship, we fit seamlessly together, sharing common values and visions. However, as our family grew, our lives became more complex. Our once simple puzzle now contained extra pieces, with some missing entirely. We find ourselves at odds over how to reassemble it all.
Yet, amidst the chaos, neither of us is ready to walk away. We are committed to solving this puzzle, refusing to abandon the pieces. I take solace in the fact that David knows these wooden puzzles inside and out, having spent countless hours on his knees assembling them with our children. I strive to adapt and grow into a version of myself that fits well within our evolving family dynamic because I cherish what we have built together.
I will continue to piece the puzzles back together each night; it’s my role. Simultaneously, I respect David’s differing perspective. My intuition tells me that all couples face these crossroads at some point, moments when they must reassess how their lives fit together on this ever-shifting landscape.
Right now, we are both being shaped by the fires of change, and I won’t sugarcoat it—it hurts. There are no clear answers about what shape we will take when we emerge from this trial, but I hold onto the hope that we will find our way back to each other. As I write this, I can feel some pieces beginning to connect.
In this challenging phase, I focus on enduring the heat for the sake of our family’s overall structure. I’m working to set aside my pain and concentrate on the forces reshaping me, recognizing that true strength comes from pressure and transformation. It’s a difficult journey to become more adaptable, but I’m wholeheartedly committed.
We’re both striving hard to navigate this, and that effort must count for something, right?