The Puzzle
She is a puzzle. Actually, she loves puzzles, too, so it’s quite apropos. One of the small gifts we picked up for Abby at Toys ‘R’ Us the other day was a puzzle, an upgrade. We figured after mastering 25-piecers for the last few years, maybe she should be racing up against the 100s. So we picked up a 100-piece Disney Princess puzzle for our puzzle queen.
And I discovered something while joining my little queen in her puzzle verve. I also like to sit and figure out puzzles. It was rather magical, sitting down at the table with her, hunting for that one piece with just the right splash of color or the right straight edge to complete one more section of the mystery. For the most part, we sat quietly, which my now four-year-old almost never does of her own cognitive volition. Occasionally, I would encourage her not to give up, and she would return the cheer, neither of us ever actually considering failure; we are both so engrossed in the light-hearted serenity of this moment, but our mutual campaigning vocally underlines how much we are enjoying this quiet time together.
Of course, when we dropped the last piece of the puzzle into its rightful place, I knew what she would say, as she always does when we do anything remotely fun together – “Let’s do it again, Mommy.” And for some odd reason, putting a puzzle together for the first time is like waiting for a story to unfold and delightfully anticipating its ending, but the second time through, it is much like eating leftovers or watching the same movie twice in very short order; it holds little joy for me. But my dim spirits wouldn’t think of dampening the expectations of my puzzle lover, so after a still shot or two to at least verify to Daddy that we did successfully put this thing together, I begin the seemingly pointless process of undoing the done.
And then, shortly after beginning the puzzle again, I working on the outer edges and Abby on the pretty inside pieces, she begins to lose interest. You would think this is my salvation, my out; however, there’s one more facet to my personality that you should know: Once I begin something, I don’t like it to go unfinished. I realize it’s a tad OCD, but that’s also consistent with my personality, so it all fits. So while Abby has now jetted on to the next activity – calling for me to come join her – I vote to faithfully plod along this dull course to its dreary end.
I guess I’ve proved less that she’s a puzzle and more that I’m the puzzle. Well, at least now it’s clear where she got it.
And I discovered something while joining my little queen in her puzzle verve. I also like to sit and figure out puzzles. It was rather magical, sitting down at the table with her, hunting for that one piece with just the right splash of color or the right straight edge to complete one more section of the mystery. For the most part, we sat quietly, which my now four-year-old almost never does of her own cognitive volition. Occasionally, I would encourage her not to give up, and she would return the cheer, neither of us ever actually considering failure; we are both so engrossed in the light-hearted serenity of this moment, but our mutual campaigning vocally underlines how much we are enjoying this quiet time together.
Of course, when we dropped the last piece of the puzzle into its rightful place, I knew what she would say, as she always does when we do anything remotely fun together – “Let’s do it again, Mommy.” And for some odd reason, putting a puzzle together for the first time is like waiting for a story to unfold and delightfully anticipating its ending, but the second time through, it is much like eating leftovers or watching the same movie twice in very short order; it holds little joy for me. But my dim spirits wouldn’t think of dampening the expectations of my puzzle lover, so after a still shot or two to at least verify to Daddy that we did successfully put this thing together, I begin the seemingly pointless process of undoing the done.
And then, shortly after beginning the puzzle again, I working on the outer edges and Abby on the pretty inside pieces, she begins to lose interest. You would think this is my salvation, my out; however, there’s one more facet to my personality that you should know: Once I begin something, I don’t like it to go unfinished. I realize it’s a tad OCD, but that’s also consistent with my personality, so it all fits. So while Abby has now jetted on to the next activity – calling for me to come join her – I vote to faithfully plod along this dull course to its dreary end.
I guess I’ve proved less that she’s a puzzle and more that I’m the puzzle. Well, at least now it’s clear where she got it.
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