The first

All it takes is a few grills, one enormously varied collection of fish, one fire pit, eight assorted neighbors and their children, a variety of alcoholic beverages, and before you know it, poof! another year has passed by. I was debating writing one of those nostalgic "oh, look at all the cool stuff I did in 2011" posts yesterday, but then an invitation to a friend's house and a fondue party got in the way, and it never happened. As I'm fairly certain that blog etiquette eschews writing a nostalgic post recapturing all those winning moments any later than the first of the year, and I really don't have enough winning moments to write about anyway, I threw that idea out the window.

But then I realized that today is the beautiful date of 1/2/12, and I really had to post something on that day. Now for those of you living in countries where they actually organize dates in a logical, hierarchical manner (you know, day, month, year), my apologies. I realize you have to wait a whole month before you all get to write 1/2/12, so I'm sorry for whetting your appetite this early on.

However, when posting on the -second- day of the year, a day which was pretty much spent doing nothing (and battling an epic storm on a 30 mile bike ride), what is there to write about, besides some sort of entertaining analysis of the previous year? So, as I was doing the dishes just now, I realized that although I talk to you guys about all the races we do, the papers I present, my students, the review-nightmares I go through, I never really talk about my smaller, yet equally important triumphs. Upon consideration, I have done a number of things in the past year that I never thought I would do, and what better to way to waste the next five minutes of your life than to read about them.

1. I've started to bake. For real. As in from scratch, with recipes that involve more than "add water an two eggs to content bag and stir". As in I now have several index cards written by me in my recipe book (and in case anyone is interested in a good carrot cake, apple pie, or peanut butter cookie recipe, I got them!). And to top it all off, I just, after finishing up another bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, decided that is going to be my next project.

2. I am the proud owner of a sewing machine. I don't know how to use it, and I have still to put on my buttons, or sew up my own throw pillows (why struggle when one's husband is so skilled with needle and thread), but, people, there is a sewing machine in my house. And I've voiced a desire to learn how to use it. And as my mother can tell you, that has been a long time coming. I'm not sure when I'll find the time to piece all those quilts I will learn how to make, but, people, there is a sewing machine in my office. That in itself is a miracle.

3. I'm sort of over the baby thing. Not sure why or how, but this summer I realized that for the first time in two years I was really OK with the whole "you can't have any kids" reality. I still don't do baby showers, and please don't ask me to change your baby's diaper, because, yeah, I won't (seriously, if I can't have the pleasures, why would anyone think I'd love to share in the misery?), but I can actually walk into a kids' clothes store without tearing up, and revel in the fact that if I don't sleep well, it's all on me.

4. I am finally the proud owner of a well-organized dresser. You may remember that last year, one of my new year's resolutions was to organize all of my pantyhose and knee-highs. Well, not only am I now the proud owner of a well-organized pantyhose-drawer, but thanks to a sudden outburst in organizational madness, the other five drawers could serve as models in an Ikea catalog. There's enough little containers and boxes to keep several toddlers occupied for an entire Christmas morning, and although sometimes getting out a specific pair of pajamas requires moving the contents of the entire drawer the floor, it's organized.

5. Those scars I earned at that adventure race back in 2010? The one that involved bushwacking through acres of thistles and brambles where my legs came away looking like a patchwork quilt? Well, thanks to some serious anti-stretchmark cream (and thanks to #3, I no longer get upset when purchasing it), they're gone. I can now show my legs without wondering what people will make of all the lines and scratches, or worrying that the sun will permanently burn them into my skin.

Well, there you have it, 2011 summarized in five minor triumphs. I would love to tell you I have some seriously lofty goals for 2012, but apart from winning the lottery so I can pay a chauffeur to drive me to work every day, I'm really just fine.

Happy belated new year!

Twenty kids and counting....

I'm not really up to date on my reality shows (apparently the Sister Wives just had baby #17 and Kate is re-starting her old reality show), but I'm currently watching "19 kids and counting" (for my Dutch readers: a show about an ultra-conservative family with, yes, 19 children), and apparently Michelle (the 1990s-hair-bearing 45-year old matriarch) is pregnant with child number 20.

Number twenty, people, twenty. And their names all start with a "J" too.

According to Michelle and Jim-Bob (her ever grinning husband - and which man wouldn't be grinning, twenty kids means he's not exactly being deprived of anything), each child is a gift of God, and they will keep on having children until God has decided it's enough.

Putting aside the fact that they homeschool so they can teach their children that the world is 6000 years old, man existed at the same time as dinosaurs, they argue that the fact that the world is overpopulated is a myth, and they don't believe in kissing before marriage, doesn't that strike you as just plain..well...odd? Especially if you consider Michelle suffered from pre-eclempsia during her last pregnancy and almost died giving birth to her 19th child at 25 weeks?

Look, I know I'm all about live and let live. You want four wives? Knock yourself out. You want to spend $10k on a wedding dress? Go for it! You want to force your husband out of his bedroom so you can stock up on the 500 bottles of ketchup while couponing? Be my guest. But getting pregnant for the twentieth time while your last child almost didn't make it seems just wrong. Especially when some of us can't even have one child*.

So someone tell me why I'm watching this show?

*Yes, I really am over that. No, I am not suffering from denial. It's just that ridiculous excesses like this drive me insane. Plus husband-dear and I would be way cooler parents than perma-grin Michelle and happy-dopey Jim-Bob. Seriously