on saturdays i try to take bella and alex out on adventures. this is my attempt to reward marty at the end of her week. mainly it allows her to run something other than a zone-defense in her home, if even for a few hours. on the most recent outing bella and alex were in a bit of a competitive place. let me try to give you a sense of what two antagonistic sub-seven year olds sound like over a four-hour period:

37 x	I won
38 x	no, I won
10 x	everything is not a race alex
8 x	i'm not racing della
6 x	how about you're the second winner alex
5 x	dad, della is touching my shoe
4 x	dad, alex is making faces at me
1 x	dad, i have to go pee ... and poop
1 x	me too.
and this is what the father of two sporting kids sounds like over the same four-hour window:
16 x	bella, stop teasing your brother
15 x	alex, stop provoking your sister
10 x	do you two want to go home?
3 x	i need everyone to be silent and still for five minutes
3 x	the toilet paper goes in the bowl, not on the ground
2 x	leave it on the floor, don't touch it!
2 x	ahhh! i said don't touch it!
1 x	i'm done. they're all yours. i'll be in the shower...

two nights ago i was getting the kids ready for bed. bella was sitting on the toilet with a book spread on her lap, anthony was scooting around the bathroom floor playing with the closet door and alex was naked and about to get his teeth brushed. as i was working over the sink putting paste on the toothbrush alex called out "aaahhhh. anthony has my penis." i wheeled to see anthony with an outstretched arm sitting right in front of alex. he had pinched, quite heartily, the uncircumcised foreskin of alex's penis between his fingers and was pulling it towards the ground. i took a moment to react because i was astounded at how far anthony was able to stretch alex's miniature member. alex's shrieking turned to hysterical laughter and he started chanting "anthony has my penis! anthony has my penis!" to which i said "ANTHONY! let go of your brother's penis!" to which bella very sadly said "i wish i had a penis." when i yelled at anthony he let go and looked at me, smiling. i turned and sensed the score keeper in my brain writing the words LET GO OF YOUR BROTHER'S PENIS in neat letters on a chalkboard and then placing a single hash mark to the left of it. while this accounting was going on alex started gleefully singing his song again "anthony has my penis! anthony has my penis!" to which i again shouted "ANTHONY! i said let go of your brother's penis!" this bought me a second hash mark.

last night marty had to attend a neighborhood meeting which put me in sole charge of dinner and pre-bed prep. this exact situation is the reason the phrase "got his ass handed to him" was ever invented. truthfully, these evenings can go a couple of ways but most often you hear a lot of "you always let us watch tv when mom isn't here" or "when is mom coming home" or "that's not what mom would do". last night actually went ok. i brought dinner home with me removing one of the obstacles. after dinner we walked down the street where in the summertime there is always a legion of little humans running around half naked while parents sit on stoops sipping wine. on this particular night the kids scored some of those glow in the dark bracelets like you see at amusement parks and carnivals. i let them run wild until they started to get shiny and then ushered them home for baths and bed. we walked in the door and i told them to all strip and head upstairs while i got drinks. i was at the kitchen sink when alex called me. when i looked up he was standing in the foyer totally naked with his neon green bracelet placed around his penis and scrotum. while i took this scene in he innocently asked "daddy, do you know where anthony is?"

isabella, who turns six today, speaking randomly during bedtime rituals.

in visiting with the hair-girl today she told me that growing up she thought the proper term for children with no siblings was 'lonely children' instead of 'only children'. throughout the afternoon my mind kept returning to that thought and i've since concluded that her usage is way more apt, appropriate and concise the what has always been used. and starting today, it is how i will refer to the country's growing phenomenon of lonely children.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. currency

this gets said, by me, at least once a day in our home and an easy twice on weekends. being an only child has in no way prepared me for witnessing how two siblings can interact. i mean they adore one another. really. i've seen it. but man can those waters of affection turn acerbic if the most minor of things goes sideways.

it starts with a thud in some distant room of the house. next you'll hear a raised or strained voice and then scuffling. i move quickly, far more quickly than marty, to the disturbance point. i'll find bella and alex locked up on one another. peeling them apart is about as easy as separating folded over packing tape, especially when cradling a three-month old in one arm.

afterwards i turn to marty, expressing my shock. but instead of words of consolation or empathy i get the equivalent of a college scouting report on how quick and strong alex seems to be and even with a hint of pride she may use words like 'gamer' or 'scrappy' to describe his art of self-defense. then she, the sixth of seven children, will go about her day, leaving me alone in my quiet disbelief.

we had a child born two weeks ago. we had another child begin full day kindergarten one week ago. and gluttons that we are, we're making yet another child enter half-day preschool this week. with so many balls in the air we didn't really get a chance to counsel alex proper on what to expect at his first school experience. what to ask. what not to do. where the bathroom is. you know the basics. fortunately for us, we have bella and it is apparent from the below 5-second time lapse photo that she has privately schooled him on the powers of manipulation, or as she would contend, the powers of survival, happiness and household dominance.

i just can't figure out if the photo on the left is his mean-mug or his just got mean-mugged face. knowing bella as i do though, i'd say that is the face of someone committed to keeping the thomas-train table all to himself.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. three shows

were our family being monitored by nasa, our latest transmission to them would read "houston, we're set to pop. i repeat houston, we are set to pop. confidence is high". technically, we're still weeks away but we've entered the any day milestone. alex was almost two weeks early which means who knows how quickly sassafras could appear now that the track is greased. if you looked, touched, listened to and smelled marty's stomach protuberance, you'd be amazed the little nipper hasn't just fallen out into the tub while she showered.


while the first picture is representative enough of the home's state, this second photo better captures the true breadth of moods. we are (right to left) frenetic, meditative, swirling and observing.


wish us strength and health over the next few weeks getting the child little man simply calls 'assafras' to the other side. and peace out. (photo credit to the soon to be big brother, alex)

alex has expanded his most most used phrases (previously why and no). i present, in order of frequency ...

• i no want to go home
• i no want to go to bed
• della ... della ... where are you della?

and on that last one it is great to see bella pop her head from around a corner and yell "i'm over here alex" with a big and sunny wave of her arm. alex then head-down runs with full swinging arms to join his big and super-fly sister.

granted, five minutes after that warming scene alex returns using using a phrase which is unfortunately climbing the ranks ...

• della hit me daddy

on the positive side, it's cheaper than speech therapy.

growing up, there were seven kids in marty's house. as they awoke christmas morning they were to go to their parents' bed. only after all nine people were assembled could christmas begin. one at a time groggy children appeared in the doorway and slowly took account of who beat them to the christmas bed before climbing in themselves. excruciatingly, only after a majority of family members were pres...

marty grew up in a very science-minded home. her father was a cardiologist. her mother an ex-nurse. two of her brothers would grow up to be doctors. marty herself, a high school science teacher. in her house, one didn't take a dump, they had a bowel movement. one didn't drop ass, they simply experienced a bout of flatulence. and, there was nothing humorous about that flatulence. you see, terribly ...

as an only child i've been long fascinated by sibling relationships. how they started, how they grew and what kind of state they're in through adulthood. did you fight, i mean physically? how often do you call your sister/brother on the phone, just to talk? would you stay up late at night rapping? did you share a room? a bed? believe me when i tell you my quest for understanding is insatiable. <...