I opened up a box full of puzzles today. Jigsaw puzzles. The box contained about 10 picture puzzles and I decided to show my five year old how to put one together. It would be a mother/daughter puzzle day.
She picked a puzzle. A boy with a horse. Out of all of them, I figured it would be among the easier ones. Although still something along the lines of 250 pieces, I hoped she wouldn’t find it too daunting. I decided to teach her the way I learned, turn all the pieces picture up and find the edges. Put the edges together first and then find one element in the puzzle to put together. We decided on the boy since he was wearing bright blue. She did pretty good through the edges although I could tell she was beginning to get a little bored. By the time we had found all the blue pieces, it was pretty much me putting it together by myself.
I sat in a cramped little Disney Princess chair hunched over a little white kiddy table until finally moving the puzzle to the floor. (Don’t ask why we didn’t put it together on the dining room table.) And spent most of the day trying to put together the rest of the puzzle. My ten year old son finally helped me for about an hour. Then I needed to rest. After being on the floor for several hours my legs were about to fall asleep.
Then, my husband told my oldest to let the dogs in so they could go straight to the bedroom and what happens? The come into the living room, the little dogs go crazy, all the dogs are bouncing around on the unfinished puzzle, and suddenly it is spread all over the living room floor. Countless hours lost. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry.
We found all the puzzle pieces, put them back into the baggy to save for another day. Maybe when she gets a little older and can sit patiently enough to put a puzzle together.

