Mandatory Christmas Letter, 2018

And it seems that somehow--somehow--we have all made it through 2017. As of writing this, we are still alive and the world has, in fact, not ended; I cannot account for what may have happened in the meanwhile.  

As such, it so follows that we must reflect in the Peterson Christmas Letter, recapping the complexity of a year into a few, fine bullet points.  

• Andy and I are still working at Skyward.  Since around March or so, we've both been very involved in our new product coming out, which has led to all kinds of growing pains, shifting our comfort in one side to the unexplored territory of the new.  We've been vocal about places where we need to smooth the edges, and we have both been entrenched long enough now to start to see different elements enacted.  Andy has also been promoted as of January 1st to Senior Consultant--well-deserved and hard earned!
• February was the long-anticipated Norway trip!  I'm very proud of us for planning out the trip in such a way that we were still underbudget and not by putting it on a credit card.  Yay adulting!  The trip itself was a fantastic adventure, and Andy and I would certainly love to go back.  Dog sledding, Northern Lights, new foods, time together, and all kinds of good stories.  
• In March, we moved to our new place off of Ekstam Dr.  We have some lovely neighbors and furthermore have settled very comfortably into a great, new space.  It's still about six minutes from work (so we still come home for lunch).  While it was a whirlwind sorting it all out while also re-acclimating to life immediately after the trip, it was a very positive move for us.  Additionally, we started a tradition of an unpacking party rather than a big moving day, which I think everyone's backs appreciated, particularly with the free piano we acquired.
• In April, we paid off our car.  A great victory for any Millennial or actually anyone for that matter.
• We started playing Dungeons and Dragons with a few buddies online.  Andy has very much enjoyed leading the group, even if it is like herding cats sometimes.  
• As the year progressed, it was apparent that my standard of health simply wasn't at a "good enough" level.  While elements were still certainly better than they had been, our level for "good" was so skewed that it took some serious reevaluating time and a couple of sick days to at least solidify in my head that we would end up back at Mayos, one way or another.  This reshuffling meant that I missed out on Choir School this year (but thankfully Andy could still go), and did go see a couple of doctors up in Minnesota.  We made some decisions after our discussions there.
• Once we were decided, that we had exhausted all other options and wanted to pursue an ostomy on our time schedule rather than end up in an emergency situation, we spent a few months preparing.  We saved money, we bought supplies, we rearranged parts of the house and similar projects we had been putting off, we gathered our wonderful support together, and I felt, at least, that this period of time moved both slowly and quickly in the same breath.  We took this all with as much grace and humor as we could muster (and a few tears as necessary).  
• And then came the surgery itself.  This all went better than expected.  I am collectively missing about two feet of colon, and I now have a permanent colostomy that I affectionately refer to as Melvin.  Then we transition directly to recovery, which also has a habit of moving slow and fast simultaneously.  
• At the five and a half week mark, I went back to work.  So far, so good.  Frankly, I'm glad to have a set schedule again.  With a real potential for remission much more attainable than it had been before and overall lesser degree of pain, there are a few things to hope for in the coming year.

We are heading into the new year with optimism yet again, because it is our way.  Andy looks at the world as it could be, and I find projects and places to invest my energy into that keep me encouraged.  Andy and I want this to be a year toward better health for us, making strides for our physical health, of course, but also mental, emotional, spiritual, and, hell, financial as well.  I'll be trying to get back into my diet more rigorously after the holidays, but otherwise I am most interested to see how life with Melvin is going to develop over the course of this, our first permanent year together.  There will be many moments and thoughts to catalog through this process.  I've still been conditioned to concern and a flavor of paranoia, that it's hard to simply stop and feel grateful, without a lot of conscious effort, anyway.  I think that will come in time, too, when we wrap up the final pieces up from this surgery and get past the window for any possible complications.  In the meanwhile, we'll pay off Andy's student loans by the end of this new year (barring unforeseen disasters); so wonderful to feel like we're making some kind of progress, even if it is slow.  I'm hoping we'll also be able to start planning out our next big adventure, when and where it might be (at this point, still likely to be Scandinavia). 


We've made some new friends this year, we've helped a few move, we've rekindled a few relationships, and we've lost a few people.  Politics is a new flavor of messy that we don't care for, but we will continue to take these new opportunities to be vocal in our support of positive changes.  We have especially been reminded this year how loved we are by all of you, through your prayers and gifts and time while we were sorting out surgery and all else.  As we have been blessed, we hope to continue to be a blessing to others.  

Wishing you all a wonderful 2018, from our family to yours.