When I run into people I haven't seen in a bit, they universally ask the same question. That question is not, how are you? How is your business? How is your health? How is your life? The number one question I get is, "How are the kids?". While we're making numbered lists here, the number two question I get is, "How is Marty?". And since the moment I had kids or was married, this has been the case. Even my own mother would inquire about my family before asking about me, so please know I'm not judging anyone. Just another of my observations. The truth is I am in aggreement. I too find Marty and my children more interesting as well.

I say all of that to say that since it has been a minute since we chatted, let's just go ahead and get how the kids are doing business out of the way. By now, you all know I am every bit as boastful and gloating of my children as any father. So to enforce some brevity here, I will just pick one recent thing (and by recent, I'm talking about the last two weeks) to say about my kids.

Anfer was recently inducted into the National Honor Society (for the record, both Baya and Aleo also received this distinction). When this happens, the student is asked to select a teacher to present their NHS certificate to them at the recognition ceremony. Anthony chose his social studies teacher, who also serves as his wrestling coach. As the words reveal, this selection emanated not from the classroom but from a odor-rich gymnamsium. When I first read this, I thought of something I've heard Marty express over the years. It typically surfaces after Bella shares some bit of wisdom she picked up in her travels. After sharing her insight and leaving the room, you will often find Marty muttering to herself, "Oh sure, I've been telling you that for seven years, but MARY (and the person's name is always elongated and exaggerated) says it, and now it is part of your life's gospel." 

So after reading the Lemay-lovefest, I felt a tinge of that Marty-hurt. Then after giving it a bit more thought, I concluded the hardest thing I've ever asked Tony to do is mow our backyard with a manual-push mower that has a gimp wheel. Lemay tells Tony to walk onto a mat with a muscle-ridden, half-dressed opponent and engage in six minutes of what, to my eye, appears to be worse than any six minutes I've ever lived in my life. And Lemay tells him to do this repeatedly. And Tony has done it repeatedly. If anything, I think I may need to write a fawning letter to and about Coach Lemay as well. 

Bella met a young woman at an event recently. They started chatting, Bella implementing her get-to-know-you protocol. After a few minutes, the woman interrupted Bella to say, "Boy, you ask really great questions!". Bella smiled, thanked her, and confessed it is something she works hard to do well.

The woman went on to say she never really gives that compliment to people, at least not many people. She explained that she was a Thought Consultant, which means her entire job is pretty much about asking questions of people and trying to get them to ask better questions of themselves. By my estimation, getting this compliment from this human is akin to Tom Brady saying he likes your throwing motion.

The bad news here is that this is yet another achievement my 23-year-old daughter has beaten me too. When I had kids, I knew it would be emotionally trying. I just didn't expect it to be professionally debilitating as well. And I gotta ask, how the heck to you get this dang title? I once asked my boss if I could be a Technology Evangalist. As I walked away from his laughter, he suggested I start with Technology Comedian and work my up.

A professor asked Alex if he would be his Teaching Assistant for a class in the coming year. Aleo was surprised at the request as he had never had the professor. It turns out that another professor, whom Alex did have, recommended Alex to the man. 

I was only ever asked two things by my university when in college.
1. To ask fewer questions in class.
2. To return my library books on time.

And that is not the end of interest in Alex's skillset. He's already turned the head of a few professionals before even completing his second year of film school. Oh, and Alex also turned 21 last week.

I know of multiple married couples who are starting that empty-nester phase of their life. In a troubling number of cases the prognosis looks bleak. To combat this, many are entering couples therapy to help them in their post-children lives. I see therapy in my future too but it is not the marital/couple type (though Marty may report something different). My therapy is going to focus on repairing my abused self-esteem as I watch my kids and their young successes where I cannot help but compare it to my faltering early years.

Given our trajectories, and their needing us less and less every day and us passing them on that scale where we may one day need them more, I feel compelled to remind them, that I changed their diapers when they were little. Well, ok, so Marty changed their diapers but there were times I didn't leave the room when it happened. That's gotta count for something, no?

Now that the kids are older and either moved out or are often out, Marty and I are edging our way into those scary waters where a couple has just one another to talk to. When I was younger, I thought this period would resemble life before having kids. Light. Carefree. Easy. In some ways, it is, but when you have sent children you love more than you thought possible into the world, I think my mind ...

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...

Yesterday I talked about the challenging and rewarding parts of the deck project. Today let me share the most exciting part of the build. A few years ago, Marty got me a GoPro for Christmas. It was a great gift and something I often use. I record everything from tennis matches to family dinners. A new thing I've been using it for is to make time lapses of work I do. ...

I had a dream. In it, I was playing hide and seek with a little girl. I have the sense she was a grandchild. She had a frilly dress and thick pigtails both of which flowed behind her when she ran. Her melodic giggle bounced off the walls and brought life to the whole house. I was hiding behind a french door in the nest (where Marty and I sleep). I heard the small voice running from room to room, c...

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. make marty happy

i'm pretty sure this is why we don't live in wyoming, or colorado, or utah, or, and especially, montana.

one of the most often told origin stories of the marty/troy relationship deals with where we live. when people learn that i grew up in colorado, the first thing they ask is why we don't live in colorado now (versus st. louis).

of all the couples that live in st. louis, 90% of ...

as mentioned yesterday, i recently took a road trip. it is an annual trip east i have been taking since the kids got old enough they did not require a full-time staff of two. on this trek i visit friends and family and since starting the company, i mix a work stop or two along the way. the time for me is restorative and joyful and one of my favorite annual traditions (amidst many).

this year i got ambitious and over-planned the week, seeking to milk every day and hit every drivable connection. after getting home-sick i decided to trim a bit off the end and head home a full day early. in thinking on it further i thought i had a neat opportunity to surprise my family with a premature return (because we do like surprises: New Car Story).

so i planned my eleven hour drive out so i would arrive just before sunday dinner, fifteen minutes before to be precise. once home, i parked a few houses down the street to walk the last bit (so no one accidentally spied my car out front). using my cell, i called our home line and got marty. we exchanged hellos and then i said that i might not be home on monday night. there was a long pause. i knew her mind had already started thinking through the implications of me being a day late since the kids were to start school on tuesday. as she processed the news, i walked through the front door. i found bella knitting on the living room couch. on seeing me she dropped her needles shot her arms into the air and bellowed, "dad's home!!!".

i walked into the breakfast room in time to see marty hanging up the phone. she turned and gave me a wry smile. after separating from our hug i asked if i was going to find a shirtless college boy or two jumping out of our bedroom window. she said i would not, they left earlier in the day.

i recently took my annual friends and family tour back east. this is a solo trip i've been making the last few years, or put differently, since the kids have been old enough to not overwhelm a single parent. i am fortunate that a few of my closest friends and a portion of my family are clustered in a remarkably small area, an area i did not grow up in (but did finish college in) which makes it all ...

bella came to me while i was working at my desk, and asked me if i'd read something for her. she handed me a piece of paper that said, "Please accept this as my two-week notice and December 15th, 2017 will be my last day. Thanks! Bella."

i asked what i was looking at. bella said it was her resignation notice. i asked how she intended to deliver it. by hand? over the phone? bella said she was going to text it to her boss.

this is one of those moments as a parent where you have to catch yourself. you do this by first taking a deep breath and then, following the resultant exhalation, by saying nothing. those first things that roll across your mind's conveyer belt aren't the winners you think they are. no matter how smart or appropriate or necessary they may sound in your head. what you're looking and waiting for during this quiet breath is the realization that the only reason your child doesn't know any better or different is because you, her parent, have not yet taught them the difference. i have found in the past that i have often fumbled these moments because they come (1) frequently and (2) at inopportune times, though if you asked me when an opportune time was, it would probably take me longer to find a time to i'd call convenient than it would to just show you what i need to show you.

so here i told bella there are better ways to do this. to this she said, "but mom said it was ok". to which i said, "you showed this to mom? and she said it was good?" yep and yep. breath and silence. when dealing with spousal disconnects, there's a whole other decision tree which i will simply describe as a higher level of math and leave it at that (for now). after my breath and silence (and spousal calculus) i said "mom and i are going to have to different approaches here. while yes, you could technically send this brief message AND you could technically send it as a text and no one may bat an eye in today's white-knuckled, fast-finger society there is a better way to leave a job and this is an opportune time to practice that better way."

i talked way longer than i needed to (but this is my way and my children may worry for me if i were ever brief, so i in part do it for them). but i talked at length about the value of not burning bridges and making an impression on people, even as you are parting ways, but in short it is always about conducting yourself with class and being respectful (even when there might be angst, which was not the case here). way back when i left the bank and posted my resignation, a few people commented on it to me. so i found it (here) and shared it with bella. using that as a template she produced the following: my girl, as she so often does, did me proud. and she has already been offered on open-invitation in the summer when she will have more time and they will have more need.

one thing my mom definitely worked hard to teach me was just because lots of people in a society may deem something ok and acceptable does not mean it is ok and acceptable. texting a one-line resignation to your boss to quit your first long-term job squarely lands in that bucket for me. bella and i both thank you mom.

i was headed out the door to play tennis. marty came down the stairs wrapped only in, wonkily so, one of the kids winter coats. she said she wanted to tell me something. the something was sweet and loving and made me feel 17 instead of 47. she had to get the coat because she wasn't dressed and saw i had the front door open and my bike was sitting outside so she knew i wouldn't want to close the door. as she ran back up the stairs she pulled the coat aside and flashed me her nakedness, her playful laugh ringing through the foyer before snapping it closed and rounding out of site. more 17 year old tingles.

marty and i went out on a date night. this might be the second one of these we've been on in the last five years. i took her to a new eatery i recently discovered and then we went to see kathleen madigan at one of our cities swankier venues (the peabody). after the show marty and i remained in our chairs as the other patrons streamed out. they seemed as intrigued by us keeping our seats as we were with their immediate need to vacate the premises (and willingness to fight the throngs of people). as we watched the parade before us, marty commented at the age of the crowd in they seemed a lot older than we expected. as we did our accounting marty leaned in adding, "or maybe we look like them and are old too". huh? what? when exactly did that happen?

and, it seems we are not alone in experiencing this odd phenemenon.

one of the cousins of the the nephew that just got married recruited the entire family to help with his gift idea. the young man bought his favorite cousin a bible and then reserved a blank page in the back of the book for each family to craft a message to the new couple. the following was marty's entry for our family: regarding #7 marty would not let me add "except in the case of marty and troy whose private existence far exceeds the public's perception". she's always plays spoil-sport.

this is a picture of marty taken just weeks before i met her.

my biggest problem in knowing and dating her in those early years was my belief that every man who met her would become as deliriously struck by her presence as i had been. while she claims this was not her life, i've seen and heard enough examples to the contrary that i only half believe her. all i can claim first hand is mee ...

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? ...
  View in Gallery >>>

for school, bella (13) was asked to write an essay about a family member. this was her response. it's crazy how much she knows about my/our past. at her age, i was never that plugged into my parents, or anyone who wasn't me for that matter. i find her curiosity and empathy both impressive and humbling. if i'm ever in need of a biographer, i for sure know who i'm tapping.

it was 6:27 in the morning. i was sitting at my desk writing (for you, for this). i heard marty's alarm go off twelve minutes earlier and then heard her shuffle to the bathroom. then at 6:31 i felt her hands on my shoulders. they slid down my chest as she leaned down to hug me from behind, my desk chair mildly in the way. i then turned and took my wife in, standing in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and looking amazingly young and fit with her flat stomach (after 3 kids !!!) and tan skin. i stood up and stepped in to hug her.

TROY
you look amazing.

MARTY
you're not going to want to get fresh here.

TROY
what? me? ok. why not?

MARTY
i've got to go try to find the baby bunny we buried in the back yard last year.

TROY
uhh, like now?

MARTY
yes. i need it for school.

TROY
is that why there is a sheet of paper on the kitchen that says BUNNY BONES?

MARTY
yes. what did you think it was?

TROY
another one of your mother's recipes.

MARTY
nope. for real bunny. hopefully fully decomposed somewhere in the back yard.

ladies, for the record, there are few things, and i do mean few, that can de-rail the male libido in the early morning, but i can now attest, images of your potential partner digging holes in search of a tiny rabbit carcass definitely lives somewhere on the list.

marty believes that if you make it fifteen or twenty years in marriage you should get to have a second wedding shower namely to replace the things you received the first time because after a decade of use, many of them are starting to wear out or are broken or are way out of style. while i chortled at her suggestion when she initially floated out there, holding one of the struggling items up in example as she spoke, i must confess the notion has been rolling around by brain long enough now that it has nice rounded edges and the sheen of a glassy marble, which is the look all our best thoughts take on in time—in my metaphorical world at least.

granted this time through i think marty would kindly request to swap any suggestive lingere purchaces for a more practical set of wool socks. and sad as it is to report, i would support the request. you would too if you ever had her ice-cold feet graze against your calf at 2am on a winter's night.

the email i received from marty after she read the family gallery posting (trapped) about her choosing to quit work and stay home with the kids. that was the message in it's entirety. no hello. no thanks. just, you write like a girl. i reckon the most appropriate response would have been: but instead of sending that response, i went to the kitchen and did the dishes.

with permission, i share a portion of marty's reply to yesterday's post. you only get some of it because parts of the message made even me blush.


this worked out well since when we met i was driving a 1976 volvo station wagon and living in the basement of a friend's family home, time was just about the only asset i had to give to anyone.

and, in the name of comprehensiveness, the culminating moment.

last friday morning i woke extra early, like in the five o'clock hour. i went through my morning routines which ended with a bike ride (e.g. spinning on a trainer in the basement that is). as i logged my exercise results from the handlebar computer, i paused when i scrawled the date out in my notepad. 1/10/14. january tenth marks the date of my first date with marty as well as our wedding day. some quick math told me we had just crested our 24th year together.

knowing marty should be awake by now, i kept an eye out for her as i passed through the kitchen and then upstairs. i didn't see her in the bathroom, the nest (our bedroom), or the ping-pong room. then as i walked down the hall, i noticed movement in the boys room. i looked through their door and saw a bluish light coming from their closet. in peering through the two swinging doors i found my wife inside the space. she stood in front of her wall of clothes (yes, our clothes closet is in the boys room -- remember, we sleep in something called the nest which barely accommodates our bed let alone a closet). clad in a pair of kooky, patterned tights she got for christmas, a bra and a damp head of hair, she scanned her clothing options using a lego-man flashlight whose feet cast a dim blue light upon her choices (the blue light surely wreaking havoc with the true color of each garment). as she sensed my approach she turned her head grinning at being caught in such a curious moment. i kissed her shoulder and wished her happy anniversary. she smiled bigger and said, "yes. you too." i told her i never imagined twenty-four years after our first date to find us standing in a closet, lit only by a toy flashlight, her in funny tights and wet from a shower and me in biking bibs and wet from exercise trying to be quiet as to not wake any of our three children, two of which were sleeping just on the other side of the door. her smile widened perceptibly as she agreed to the sentiment. and with nary more than that, we acknowledged another shared year.

and, the saying "you just can't make this stuff up" continues to show itself to me as one of life's greatest truisms.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. confidence

you remember how marty jacked up her toe some weeks back. well, now she jacked up her hand, gashing two fingers open while unloading a table from the van. when she called me at work to say she was headed to the emergency room, she described the cuts as "gaping".

as the doctor put the last of the five stitches in, marty joked that now her husband couldn't look at her nailless toe or stitched-up fingers.

in learning of this, i joked i should be allowed to bring in an interim wife i can actually stomach looking at, let alone doing anything else with, until marty is not so disfigured. i mean there's gotta be such a stipulation somewhere in all that marital fine print, no?

anyway, resumes, cv's and simple pleas for attention will be considered in the weeks ahead.

and if it helps, i've lost twenty pounds since august.

yesterday's definitive call to summer's start can be attributed to marty having completed her first year of teaching. to the astute eye, this means of course i also completed my first year with marty back in the classroom. and while summer for me may not equal sleeping in or lazing poolside or reading stephen king into the wee hours of the night, it does mean that for the next three months i don't have to share marta with others from 6am to 3pm every weekday which equates to a lower impact experience for troy and when you're in your forties, lessening life's expectations and responsibilities upon you is every bit as good as waking at noon, napping on a drifting pool raft and reading suspense stories through the night.