bella told marty that a boy in her class said she (bella) was hot. marty asked bella what she thought that meant. bella thought for a moment before saying she thought it meant he liked the way she looked. marty agreed that that was probably what it meant but the problem is that it didn't take into account her spirit and there are lots of folks who look good, great even, that lie and cheat and are mean to those around them so how they look is irrelevant and what matters is how beautiful their spirit is.

bella came home from school the next day and reported that the boy liked her spirit too.

our house is bad at checking messages. the last time i checked them their were nine, the earliest of which was from five days prior. as i saved and deleted my way through them, one in the middle went like this: i mentioned this to marty. she casually said that when she checked the other day there were nineteen messages, six of which were from bella inviting herself over to play.

marty went to a play with her mother last night thus putting me in the box with the kids. dinner (custard french toast) went well. immediately after dinner alex and anthony played trains while bella snuck in some computer time. a neighbor girl called asking if she and her brother could come over to play. whispering into the phone, i told her i didn't think it would be a good idea tonight. i whispered my response because i didn't want the natives to know i was nixing a play date. but it was getting late. and i was alone and greatly outnumbered already. i had reasons. to my whisper, the girl whined out a long 'pahhhlleeeezz' and added that they'd be no trouble at all. going against my better judgment i greenlit the visit.

i could picture the groan in bella's face when the knock rung through the house. computer time is sacred to child with no television. after being let in, the visiting girl immediately came upstairs and found me. she asked, "will you play ogre?" this time my face groaned. i said no. she asked why. i said because i didn't want to get everyone worked up just before bed. another whiny pahhhlleeeezz rolled out of her saggy-shouldered body. no trouble my ass.

after a short while of non-ogre play time the girl's mum called and the kids went home for bed. i ushered my kids to the bathroom for peeing, pooping, brushing and the hearing of the petitions to sleep in the clothes they'd been wearing all day. then anthony, alex and i moved to the upper bunk for reading. bella was below reading her own books. even though no one is listening to her story she reads out loud. i've asked her if she can read in her head when i'm reading to the boys because her reading when i'm reading is distracting. she argues that if i get to read out loud she shouldn't have to read in her brain (her words) and she doesn't care if her reading out loud is distracting when i'm reading out loud because my reading out loud is distracting to her trying to read in her brain. this girl could twist a physicist in knots in minutes.

alex starts fading first. i'm about three minutes behind him. staying awake at this moment is the hardest thing i've done all day. i always fall asleep after reading to alex. sometimes he goes first. sometimes i go first. but we both go and we usually do so within minutes of one another. i usually sleep for twenty minutes to an hour. it's my pre-night power nap that allows me to work until 2am. but tonight, tonight i can't fall asleep because i do have anthony and i don't have marty. but i do fall asleep. anthony, bored, leaves. i sense him leaving but can't open my eyes. i groggily hear bella call out "it's ok dad. i got him." more sleep. i hear anthony call out. it's been just minutes. not hours. i force myself up and down the bunk ladder. i walk to my bedroom where i hear voices. bella and anthony are snuggled, sitting up on the pillows with the covers pulled up over their laps. a mess of books are spread out before them, but they aren't reading. bella is holding anthony's fist out in front of him and is modeling his fingers in different poses. she's saying: i know it's possible to get through life without a village, but i gotta say life's much more pleasant with one.

bella has always been bright-eyed, but alex was only briefly pudgy

the first thing bella said to me monday morning. while bella does have a knack for dramatic portrayals of everyday things, she is spot on in this particular assessment.

monday night i became sick quite suddenly. because of a meeting i briefly went to work tuesday morning. i then came home, went directly to my room, got in bed and went to sleep.

the kids had a snow day and were home from school on tuesday. marty invited a bunch of ladies and their kids over to play. i would occasionally get pulled from sleep because of screaming or laughing or loud running down the hallway. one time i stirred from sleep because of talking, close-by talking. i opened my eyes and lifted my head. standing around my bed were ten to twelve kids all eight years old or younger. they were all staring at me intently like i were a classmate's curious show and tell bauble. bella was standing next to my head talking to all the children like she was leading a group of medical interns on rounds. she was saying: of course when she said the word diarrhea, a few of the kids standing around the bed screwed up their faces and said "eeewww" and took a step back. if i were them i would have found my mom and asked to go home.

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. schooled

the passing of marty's father represents the closest person to our children to have died since they've been old enough to absorb things. fact of the matter, ken is the closest person to me that i have known to die. for this reason there was a lot of processing going on in our house over the last few days.

minutes after breaking the news, i sent marty to be with her mother and siblings as this unexpected event fell on their family. this for the most part made me a single, stay at home dad. in between the gatherings and ceremonies i've talked to both bella and alex about what is happening and their thoughts on it all. alex asked about how we would see grandpa again. he asked if grandpa was in heaven. he asked if grandpa was sad. he asked why people were crying. essentially, he asked a bunch of normal and legitimate questions, many of which we talked through together because i didn't know the answers any better than he did.

as for bella, she didn't ask a thing. to a direct question asking her about her questions, she said she had none. while at the wake i asked her if she wanted to go up and say goodbye to grandpa. she said she didn't. when marty later asked her about it, bella said she already did say goodbye. i wasn't really sure how to interpret bella's reticence to talk about it but i gave her space because she didn't seem upset or withdrawn and just kept telling her that if she had questions she could come talk to me. she said she knew this but never asked a single one. the morning of the burial, bella drew this picture while eating breakfast.



after looking at it, i asked her about the third item in the legend. she said that she would have used that mark next to grandpa if he had been murdered but since he wasn't she didn't have to. still curious, i stood for a moment studying the picture in my hand feeling there was a follow-up question i was missing. my eyes focused on her perception of grandpa's face and i saw that he was smiling. i thanked bella for making the picture, told her i thought it was special and walked away. how bella portrayed her grandfather in her drawing tells me she has, like her mother, a healthy understanding of what transpired in this last week. in fact, i think she reached this point far sooner than i had. i would typically say i'm pretty good at not over-thinking a problem but perhaps i'm not as good at it as i like to think i am.

my favorite family-mannerisms at the minute:

anthony
when anthony gets mad he flexes his entire body. he makes it so taught it arches in the middle as if her were a bow and the string was tied to his heels and the top of his head. his hands travel up his jutting stomach and search the clothing on his chest. he's looking for snaps or a zipper or buttons. if he finds th...

if you hear bella or alex say the words - "anthony come here, i have a really great idea" - eight times in ten anthony will be crying inside of ninety seconds.

marty showed stress before the new week even began. sensing this i offered to take the kids to my folks on saturday giving the house to marty from one in the afternoon to eight in the evening. hours after penning the deal she remembered a meeting she had to attend from 9am to noon that same day.

having gone to bed early friday night in preparation of my day, i woke up at 4am. anthony fol...

marty and the kids we're picking up dinner at a gyro house near our home. standing by the register waiting for his already placed order was a man super-rife with tattoos and piercings. in our neighborhood these sorts of folks, and there are plenty of them, are known as loop-rats. while such scenes are reasonably commonplace, you do run into the occasional over-the-top variety and marty had said this guy was that given a variety of sprawling tattoos, some running up into his face and metal balls and hoops hanging from places that didn't seem able to accommodate such artistic and weighty objects.

after ordering marty and the kids sat down at a table to wait for their food. wordlessly, bella and alex continued to look at the man. fact is they'd been gazing at him since they walked in the storefront. finally, alex leaned into marty and in a soft and concerned whisper said, "mom, i think that boy over there is a pirate." alex's serious tenor made his remark much more comical and marty fought back the release of a deep guffaw. just when she thought she had it controlled, bella leaned in and said, "no alex, that boy just made a lot of bad choices."

my kids just may be brighter than i give them credit for.

some other pirates of our time. it's impossible to cite one favorite from the terrible tatts slideshow. the best caption for sure would have to go to "Backfat Wars: We feel a great disturbance in the force".

bella and i got into a row before school the other morning and were exchanging snarky comments from different rooms as we both got ready for our day. having had enough of this early hour angst i left the bathroom and stood at her bedroom door going into full-lecture mode. as i was talking i looked around the room trying to figure out which cranny she was hiding behind. three sentences into my tirade bella's voice magically appeared behind me as she emerged from my room headed into her room. as she passed me she mockingly said, "i'm not even in there, dude."

and once again, this physically diminutive girl stole all the wind from this grown man's sails. just imagine how screwed i am when she's not so diminutive.

in tumult of everyman season it has been days, possibly even weeks, since i've been able to talk about pee, poop, choking up or bodily excretions of any sort. so, recognizing this, lets get it on.

last weekend we went camping. alex used a true outhouse for the very first time. and i'm not talking about one of those city-park, johnny-on-the-spot deluxe models but a full-fledged, hole in the ground, shanty outhouse. marty walked him in and he slid up on the seat. seconds later his face screwed up and desperately looked to marty exclaiming, "ohhhh mom! what is that horrible smell?" marty gave him the dope. alex lifted a cheek and looked down the well, staring right into hades itself. after that, alex moved his bowels in record time.

on the walk back to the campsite, alex asked how outhouses were made. marty detailed the obvious process. you dig a hole. you make a seat with an opening. and then you cover all that with a wooden shack. alex had great concern for the person who dug the hole. he feared it may have been a one-way trip. while i would have ran with that, marty explained how they probably have a system to get the human out of the hole before it's all put to use.

the next day alex scurried up to me saying he had to go. i knew there where real brick and mortar accommodations with running water a few miles away. i borrowed a bike and carrier from one of our camping mates and raced alex to these nicer facilities. after selecting a stall he stopped at the commode and pointed at two (clean) squares of toilet paper floating in the water and said this one was ucky and he'd need to find another. it's nice to see he's inherited my uncompromising and unmovable demand for standards. although the 50's dad in me was tempted to throw him back in the bike and make him use the satan-toilet again.

meanwhile, back in our neighborhood, alex's two primary playmates were eating mushrooms they found in the front yard of one of their homes. after learning of this trespass, their mothers called the doctor and were instructed to give the boys the throw-up medicine. after a quick run to the store, the two boys spent the next few hours of their saturday sitting together on a front porch puking into buckets in some grotesque community production of stand by me. unsurprisingly, alex was sorry to have missed this unique moment with his friends.

and then after returning home, bella called out in the night to report an accident in her bed. it was the classic thought i was going to pass gas and got more than i expected sort of episode. marty cleaned her up and changed her sheets. two hours later it happened again. while marty was cleaning up round two i approached bella while she was on the toilet. she looked up to me beaming with elation. when i asked why she was so happy she said mother never made her go to school if she might poop her pants.

and lastly, while standing in the tub for his bath last night anthony peed at his own will. i don't know who was happier, his parents or him.

i think that should get you all up to speed on life in my home. as you can see, it's just business as usual.

bella's school is having a fund raiser. i believe this to be an annual deal and one that hasn't changed much since i was a kid. fifteen years ago when i first entered the corporate workplace the occasional parent would bring their kid's sales sheet into the office. after enduring the guilt-based system first-hand, i swore i would never be that guy. and i won't. i even went as far as saying when i ...

a gaggle of neighborhood girls rounded the corner down the way, marched right up to my front door, passing me reading a book on the porch, and started walking into the house.

TROY
whoa. whoa. where are all of you headed?

LEADER
inside.

TROY
who do you want?

LEADER
bella.

TROY
she's not there. she's next door.

LEADER
then we want to get something.

TROY
what is the something you want to get?

(the girls pause and look at one another.)

LEADER
just something.

TROY
you ain't going in until you can be more specific.

LEADER
ok. bella told us that we should come down here and get her diary.

(they again turn to go in.)

TROY
whoa! whoa! for something like that you need a wax sealed note from bella in her handwriting telling me that is what you need. and without that you can't go in or have her journal.

after looking to one another for inspiration and finding none, they about-faced and storm-troopered back around the way in as stately a fashion as they had come.

that night at the dinner table i told bella of my encounter. she was vexed at this near violation of her personal space and quickly announced her rules for who could look at her diary:

BELLA
nobody but you or mom can look at it. not even alex. not even friends i heart and write sidewalk notes to.

in a hundred days i could not have expressed her criteria more eloquently or succinctly myself.

square 1: this is my dad
square 2: and this
square 3: plus this
square 4: but this is my real dad

my dad is the best dad in the world. my dad is a goofy guy. i like when he plays ogre. it is fun. you have to run away from my dad. if you are caught the other people try and save you. he tickles you sometimes and then you are in jail or the other thing is that he just tags you and you're in jail. my dad is awesome and jokes around a lot.

art and copy by bella, my new marketing manager

for our last movie night we watched a film about a family who found a stray dog and kept it. some weeks later the dog had six puppies. the father who was in marketing and worked a lot of hours insisted that the children give the puppies away in that they didn't have time or money to care for so many dogs. the family protested but he stood his ground and the dogs were given away. through the tumult of these events the man came to be fired from his job because he botched an account.

after this happened i paused the movie and asked the kids what they thought the man would do. the kids turned the question to me asking what i thought the man would do. i said i thought he would open his own company and win the account back showing his previous employer that they shouldn't have fired him. bella then said that she thought he would get all the puppies back, train them up and then have a carnival of dogs that would make him richer than he was before.

bella's outcome was so exponentially better than mine. and, i wish the filmmakers had thought of it as well because the story would have been more entertaining to watch had the story taken bella's counsel.

friday bella had her first sleepover where she was the host. the neighbor girl was the guest and she was remarkably polite. after loaning her some batteries for a cd player she listens to while going to sleep, i explained they were rechargeables and i'd like them back in the morning. she looked at me and said quite naturally, "why of course." and when marty told her that if she needed anything in the night she could come into our room and wake one of us up and we sleep right over there across the hall. to this, the small girl said, "marty, i know where you sleep. i almost know this house as well as i know my own house. it's like my second house."

saturday alex and i spray-painted his bike. it was everything he could do to depress the nubbin at the top of the can and given this there was no way he could push that and direct the spray at the same time but he stayed insistent on doing the work. so we would rest the can on the workbench or ground and he would put his body's full weight onto the top of the can, firing the mist in the general direction of the bike or wheel or accessory and i would move the part through the spray attempting to coat it as directed. in the end, this method worked to transform alex's pink and purple bike to a preferred green and black. it also worked to effectively cover me up to the wrists in green and black paint as well.

on sunday, we celebrated anthony's birthday. every time anyone would say the word birthday around anthony, he'd start blowing in the air as if he were blowing out birthday candles. and on this weekend anthony uttered his fourth-ever phrase. it was "close the door". with kids bursting in and out of the house all weekend, he heard marty scream those phrase through the house no less than forty times. if you're wondering, his first three phrases were mama, bella and poop (although poop sounds more like poof but is not to be mistaken because of the way he points a finger at his soiled and smeared ass while saying it).

a new TROYSCRIPT was posted today. keep it down up there

most of bella's concern and attention came before the surgery. she was anxious about the procedure. much of this anxiety played out in the weeks prior through random and irrational outbursts and not the pointed and direct questions that were on her mind. what they were going to do? how much would it hurt dad? what could go wrong? what if i have to have it done? marty and i were pretty stymied by bella's wide mood swings until marty got bella to talk about it one night before bed. when it was finally done and i returned home, bella seemed herself again. aside from taking great interest in the unveiling of the wound (pictured below), she has been pretty hands off letting alex shoulder most of the humor-dad work.


but while bella is not greatly overt in her care and concern, she always leaves a mark. a couple of times i've woken up from a nap to find the center pieces of a snyder's hard pretzel sitting on my bedside table. this is my favorite part of a sourdough pretzel (better dough to salt ratio). bella knows this. when i see them i imagine her walking about the house snacking on the pretzel, careful to leave the prime center cross in tact. and when the outer ring is done, i imagine her quietly stealing into my room to set the small prize on the table before turning to leave as quietly as she came in. not once has she or i mentioned them and not once has one of those hard little knots of bread not made me grin knowingly.