I’ve been watching the daffodils in my yard cope with a slow coming spring. They sprouted up fast after a few warm days in February. Then it turned cold again, snowed a few times, and they stayed at their four-inch height for close to a month. They doubled in height this last week, and now have buds. But evidence of enduring the extra weeks of harsh weather remains in the dried and browned ends of the leaves.

My roots are in the Chautauqua movement. My maternal and paternal ancestors owned cottages in the Lakeside Chautauqua on Lake Erie. My early childhood was punctuated by summer visits; by age eight, I was a year around resident in the same. Summers found my community overrun with vacationers enjoying the culturally rich environment. Wikipedia sums it up well, “The Chautauqua brought entertainment and culture for the whole community, with speakers, teachers, musicians, entertainers, preachers, and specialists of the day.” I have written in the past about how access to such professionals influenced who I am today; it predestined me to be a life long learner.

December has been a whirlwind of fun for our family.  Rich spent hours in the garage making three maple saddle stands as a Christmas present for Andrew; Nathaniel and I spent those same hours in the kitchen making yummy food for everyone. We were able to see all our children over the Christmas holiday and made some great memories. I love this photo of Nathaniel's first experience ice skating! Unfortunately Nathaniel is currently in the hospital with a virus. Rich is with him this morning to give me time to rest. I have enjoyed the quiet moments to reflect on my writing and reread some of this year's blog posts. Here are the top five most frequently read 2016 blog posts:

Nathaniel turns four tomorrow. Since it falls on Thanksgiving Day this year, we gathered family and friends a couple weekends ago to celebrate. This birthday carries some significance - the first that Nathaniel can eat cake. I decided on a Very Hungry Caterpillar theme to commemorate and had a lot of fun making with the preparations, especially making the cake decorations out of fondant. Nathaniel blew out his candles and then signed "awesome." Yes, Nathaniel everything about this milestone is awesome. Happy Birthday!

"What if adopting Nathaniel means you can no longer do the things you enjoy doing as a family or individually?" asked the adoption case manager during our staffing interview.

Rich has just finished explaining his and our older boys' involvement in Boy Scouts of America, including the three backpacking trips to Philmont High Adventure Camp. There were fourteen individuals sitting around the table participating in our interview. They had interviewed other couples before us. They were charged with the task of selecting Nathaniel's forever family. Prior to this question, they had described Nathaniel's medical conditions and the many concerns physicians had for his future. The adoption case manager had explained that it was uncertain if Nathaniel would ever walk. "What if he can't hike and go backpacking with you?" the she pushed Rich a bit more. Nathaniel took his first steps nine months later, just a few months after we finalized his adoption.

had a heavy heart Monday evening when I merged from Interstate 74 south to 275 east. I do not need a map to get to our Cincinnati hotel anymore. I know this city well. We walked into the lobby, and Nathaniel started to cry. He was inconsolable through the check in process and worse when we got to the room. He stood frozen halfway between the bed and the door, held his trach and cried. I had to wipe tears too. Everything about arriving in southern Ohio for another group of appointments felt hard and heavy and sad to both of us. We've done this a lot in the last year. Many of the visits produced physical pain and difficult news. Neither of us wanted to be here.

In the process of settling into the room, Nathaniel's g-button was pulled out. My twelve-year-old niece was in St. Louis last week for her annual "Camp Rankin" visit, and I asked her parents for a second week so she could be my travel companion. She is brave beyond her years. She responded quickly and confidently to instructions and helped to reinsert the button. Nathaniel laying on the floor without his shirt led to tickling and giggles. Ellie is old enough to be a fantastic mother's helper and young enough to be a buddy to Nathaniel.

Three years ago this morning we met Nathaniel.

He was hospitalized the last week in June for a virus, and one of his physicians came by for a visit. It was primarily a social call. During our conversation we reflected on how little we knew about Nathaniel three years ago. I remember vividly meeting her for the first time in July, 2013. I remember how patiently she explained the airway surgery Nathaniel would need. Though the medical team knew his airway was complex, they anticipated reconstruction. Surgery would be the summer after he turned three - this summer. They anticipated a week in the hospital. They had good reason to hope that he would live tracheostomy free and gain vocalization. Three years ago today we started down a journey of medical complexity that we thought was temporary. Everyone thought it was temporary.