Alex had a movie shoot that would run all night AND be outside when it would be in the thirties. Given his 4% body fat ratio, he doesn’t have a lot of natural insulation. Upon learning this, Marty did a deep dive through our basement storage, looking for things to help. She found them in a blue Rubbermaid tub marked SKI BIN #3. 

After laying her bounty of warm clothes out for him, she proclaimed, that’s how much I love you, Alex. I’m willing to go through all those bins and boxes in the basement so you won't freeze tonight. The rest of the day, we joked with Alex that his mother had a SKI BIN #3 amount of love for him. 

That same day, the neighbors got their thirteen-year-old son a limo to drive him and his friends around during his birthday party. As we all looked out the windows at the kids piling into the glossy black stretch, Alex said, "That's nice but is it a SKI BIN #3 level of love."

I'm thankful the DeArmitt children know it is not.

What's it like having Mrs. Walters as a mom?

All three of our kids attended high school where their mother taught. And not just taught but thankfully served as one of the most popular teachers at the school. Kids love her. They love how she dresses. They love her energy. They love the crazy things she says in class. Last year, a student surreptitiously kept a list of these sayings on the ...

Alex recently came to Marty and asked if she was ok. She was and said as much. He asked again, seemingly not believing her first answer. She repeated she was fine and asked why he was asking. He said that he noticed that she had not made dinner on two of the three nights this week. Marty took a moment to recall the week, and yes, because of some atypical evening events, we did not have our usual f...

MARTY
This is Marty's tenth year back in the classroom, after taking a nine year hiatus to stay home with our kids. This year she returned to peak form. She would have gotten there sooner, but the covid-disruption set everyone's plans back. She is a marvel in the classroom and is someone who connects with young people far better than most. I see this every time we go to a school event in the w...

i recently had reason to go on facebook and came upon this lovely bit of history. glad stacey wrote it down as i failed to and it was nearly lost. i don't recall this bit of wisdom but it surely has marty's thumbprint all over it. thank you stacey!

marty took bella shopping for prom dresses. here's what this looks like in most cases. you have a young, idealistic girl trying on dress after dress for the biggest night of the her life while the mother stands back, assessing things and ticking through the details she doesn't like about the dress (and in some cases the girl's body). in time the girl becomes vexed at the mother's judgement. the cl ...

marty's kryptonite in life is fatigue. if she get's too tired it is game over and it is game over fast. and i'm not talking about a kind of tired that makes you bloopy and in need of a nap. i'm talking about full on sleep deprivation that started days and weeks earlier and the only right answer is to go to bed at 5:30pm and wake at seven the next day—and doing that for 30 days in a row. i kn ...

before bed, marty reads harry potter to anthony and i. we are on book 5. this is her second time through the series as she read the books to alex and bella several years back. i read the first four books to anthony but he and i flamed out as i kept falling asleep during my reads. this is why marty took over. she is admittedly WAY better at reading potter than i am as she does animated voices and has an enviable reading stamina, even when exhausted. while she reads i work on my crossstitch. anthony, well, he is almost always moving about the room in some way, either walking back and forth on the bunk bed rails (until he slips and painfully wedges himself between the bed the and wall) or plays hot lava traversing the small space by jumping from object to object. the only time he is still is when he's eating an apple, his pre-bed snack. humorously, this allows him to be just as loud when he is sitting still as when he is balancing, climbing, and jumping about the room.

part of his apple ritual stands as one of my favorite anthony-isms. when he is done he goes to his second story window, loudly throws it open, reels back, and chucks his apple core onto the front yard. the first time i saw him do this i asked, a little alarmed, what he was doing. he casually said he was giving the rest of his apple to nature, you know the squirrels and birds or whoever might come upon it and need a snack. when he saw the expression on my face he added, "mom said it's ok". then the next morning as we head off to school, he will sometimes point out his apple, saying, "hey there's my apple from last night" and he will sometimes glance at an empty part of the yard and wonder aloud who got to enjoy his apple last night. i'm left wondering, not aloud, what the hell i'm going to to do for entertainment when my children are grown and gone.

no. i'm not talking about that kind of family tramp. i'm talking about the family tramp that the neighbors who moved away gifted you before their departure. i don't think a week had passed since members from both families hefted the awkard ring over the three-foot fence (pictured in the background) that marty commented on how comfy of a bed it looked like. then, i don't think two days passed befor ...

for the last few years marty has organized a large regional girl scout retreat. she first took it on during bella's short-lived stint in a troop. but even after bella stopped going, marty had formed a fondness for the mission so stayed involved. if i'm remembering correctly, alex attended more of these weekend adventures than bella has—it surely never hurt that all the girls found him wildly...

at dinner bella launched into a marty love-fest that went something like this.

BELLA
you're so awesome mom. i mean, you wake up super early in the morning. then you go work all day. then you pick the boys up from school. take them to playdates. then come home and make dinner. and then sit and grade papers every night.

MARTY
well, i don't grade papers every night. i maybe ...

we've had some great dinner table questions as of late. things like:

• if the kids were here home alone, and one of you, let's say anthony or alex, were reaching onto the counter for something and cut the underside of the forearm deeply--like deep where blood was pulsing out of the cut--what would you do?
• what do you think makes someone a good conversationalist? ...
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younger (and shorter-haired) versions of marta and bella.

and boy, seeing bella that small already blows my mind. ...

on the kids birthdays marty hides slips of paper around the house that (1) number and (2) read the number they are turning (e.g. reference). the night before bella's birthday this year she said not only did her mother not need to do it but she shouldn't do it because she, bella, had outgrown that. marty sagely ignored this commandment and ...

when marty chose to quit her job and stay home with the kids it was, like for many in that position, a most hard decision to make. would you be fulfilled? could you handle the isolation? could you shoulder giving your life so completely to your children (people who will most likely not recognize or acknowledge your sacrifice for about thirty years)? could you manage to maintain your own identity ...

i will bet you a boat-load of money this phrase, casually uttered to me by a twelve-year old bella while walking to the bus stop, did not pass before you in 2013, any year prior, or any future year you may be fortunate enough to enjoy.

i'm tempted to let the quote stand on its own without explanation just to let your mind dash madly from scenario to scenario, opening doors and looking behind boxes in search of the event that would lead to such a statement. i imagine the wayward paths your mind might travel down, the stories unfolding with the exciting unusualness of a tarantino narrative would be far better than the actual context, and marty swears there's always context.

i'm equally tempted to explain what led to the exchange because i like you and even if i didn't like you a whole lot, well, i'm not a complete ass-face. not most-times at least.

when i'm torn between two viable options i tend, like most reasoned folks, to act conservatively which in this case is to let your minds imagine how such a moment could develop between a mother and daughter. this path can be reversed, the other path cannot.

oh, and, happy new year. i'm infinitely thankful and excited to be sharing this shiny fresh-out-of-the-box year full of minutes and potential with you. in fact, i'm bristling just like alex did before falling to sleep the night before christmas.

the last seven days floated more innovative ideas before me than any other week in the history of troy. a few you may have heard or seen as well, assuming you too are not enforcing a news embargo, but a few will be new to you.

item one told of "the coach that never punts or kicks off" (video) but instead runs on every fourth down and only does onside kicks. it seems he read this study by some harvard prof who has the math to support the approach, and this coach has seen a great deal of success from it. i'm confident i'm not the only one wondering if this is all true, as it seems to be for skill levels found in the sub-college ranks at least, i'm left wondering how has no one seen this before?

for the second item, a friend over lunch told me of a teacher at his kid's school who has his students learn the lessons at home via web videos (e.g. what is the pythagorean theorem?) and do their homework in class where, if confused, they have access to the teacher and others learning the same concept. when i mentioned this to marty she had heard of it, being in the industry and all, and said the practice is called 'flipping' the classroom. given all the great web fodder out there, cases in point, i can see this as being a highly profitable approach, especially if it means my kids not having to turn to me for help with things i didn't understand the first time around.

the third bit of inspiration i bumped into came from the mother of one of my former students. she told me that when her three boys were young they got very little television. she policed this in the following way:

• each boy would pour over the weekly television listing that came in the sunday paper where they circled two hours worth of television from the offerings.
• the marked up schedule would then get posted, like on the fridge, for reference. then everyone knew when they had to be home for tv, being the pre-tivo age, and the boys would look forward to their windows of time.
• alternately, and probably more importantly, they could look at the movie section of the same paper and direct their two hours at a theater movie instead of television.

i can just imagine the excitement and anticipation surrounding this ritual and how it would make special something that for must of us has become a completely numb and expected part of life. i'm anguished i didn't learn of this practice ten years ago. i find it beautifully thoughtful, inspired even.

the last item comes from my own desk. perhaps all the innovation happening around me moved me to keep up. the everyday problem i held in my hand dealt with alex and the time we spend together. it's not that our time together is strained, it's just not as vibrant and easy as i would describe my relationship with my other kids. as such, i sat down to reflect on this and inside ten minutes came to the conclusion that i was trying to push alex towards things i wanted him to do instead of leveraging one of his many interests. when i considered how i would feel if someone did that to me, i concluded i would think:

1. that the person was an ass.
2. and that the person might be acting a bit like their own father.

these two lines of thought put a quick end to that. minutes after this epiphany i called bookguy, a fellow i knew to be a minecrafter (minecraft being one of alex's core interest at the moment), and asked for some advice. then, minutes after getting home from work, i sought alex out and after the usual check on the day i asked him if he could do me a favor. being the helpful man he is he of course said yes and gave me his attention. i asked him if he would teach me how to do minecraft like he does. his late in the day expression brightened more than a little bit.

if a doctor's mandate is to do no harm i think a father's mandate could be 'don't be a dick' because who wants a selfish dick for a father. i wouldn't be surprised to learn twenty years from now that those ten minutes of reflection might be ten of the most important minutes i spent in regard to my boy aleo.

those are four examples where things that happen everyday were re-thought and from those re-contemplations, life got changed. these thinking organs we got are pretty dang impressive. so think. think hard. improvement is everywhere.

one of the hardest parts for the family regarding marty's return to work dealt mostly with the boys and their morning cuddles. for as long as they've existed, the first thing alex and anthony did upon waking every morning was seek out their mother, slip under the blankets next to her and wiggle in as close as possible. given the early hour marty rises and leaves for school, the boys are mostly lef ...

anthony got mad at marty the other day. because of this she shouldered being repeatedly called 'duck-face' from the back of the van as she drove the two of them home.

on the good side he used to call people dick-foot when he got mad. i reckon he'll pull it all together soon enough.

each year before exiting from marty's birthday brunch i say a few words to marty and the guests. the first year, if memory serves, i shared how important marty was to me and i knew how important all of the ladies in the room were to her so it made perfect sense to devote a day to all of these people who are special and meaningful to one another.

this year held more of a "we've been here before - you know the drill" vibe that went something like: later that night after the kids were down and the day was minutes from done, marty thanked me (again) for the day and said.

MARTY
i liked your speech today.

TROY
speech? it was like three sentences long.

MARTY
well, it was a good three sentences.

TROY
that may be the first time a speech that included the words 'smeared feces' ever received such a praise.

sadly, the one thing marty wants, needs and covets most, seems to be the slipperiest target of them all -- ample sleep.

one day, in the future, marty and i will again taste the luxury of plentiful rest but when that time comes i fear we will then desire what we have in surplus now -- time with our kids --- and then be equally unable to conjure enough of it. i liked how marty's aunt put it ...

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. realization

just your classic photo of a mother-son nail painting session on the front stoop. ...

i've been routinely astonished at how my children, and wife, can transform our seemingly boring and boxy home into cavernous forts and sprawling cave networks. some of the more lavish constructions have used just about every blanket, comforter and pillow our home possesses. at the conclusion of these elaborate constructions a deep and serious reading fest often takes place. great stuff that i'm su ...

after a nine year break from professional life, yesterday marty re-entered the workforce.

as the time came to leave she moved towards the stairs. i followed her down the hallway wanting to say goodbye as she left the house. before starting down the steps she ducked into her bedroom, crouched down and pulled a black eastpak out from under her dresser, a spot it's possibly sat since she last taught. she held the pack up before her and gave it a few punches knocking the dust off. after a few bats her eyes narrowed and she set it down next to the dresser. it would have to wait until tomorrow.

then, just moments before stepping out the door the phone rang. it was bella. she was down the street looking in on some dogs she was sitting. bella reported that one of the dog's pooped on the floor, as it had the day before. yesterday marty helped, largely, clean it up, taking a bucket and scrub brush down. on this day marty explained that she was running out the door for work and calmly counseled bella on a plan saying things like "you saw what i did yesterday right?" and "start with water and then step on the towels". marty then hung up the phone, gave me a kiss and darted out the door.

ten minutes later bella came through the front door, fighting back tears. i asked about her trouble and she explained that the dog pooped on the floor again and she forgot to take out their recycling as they had asked. i gave her a hug and said everything would be ok and we'd get through this one pace at a time. after a few moments, bella calmed down, stood back from me, wiped the tears from her face, straightened herself up, and went to the basement. she returned with a bucket and scrub-brush and wordlessly walked out the front door. through a french door, i watched her walk down the street and around the corner towards the job she now had to do on her own, without her mother.

marty stopped working so she could fully focus on raising her kids. five minutes into her return to work, she's still raising up her children, arguably in ways that she couldn't have raised them by staying in the home.

best of luck marta. you're going to do great. and so are we.