You know you're a mama of boys when...

You know superhero names and their secret identities....and what super powers they posses.

You say, "Please stop wrestling...not so rough....be careful," at least 427 times a day.

Their "love language" is watching them play games on cell phones....and they're cute enough and convincing enough to get their 94 year old great grandmother to watch.

It's perfectly normal for them to use the bushes more than the toilet...

It becomes second nature to instantly think of dramatic bad-guy/good-guy situations that provide opportunity for them to be the heroes that they are.

Your heart melts over gifts like little dirty feathers, shells, flower petals, sticks, twigs, berries and rocks....and a super hero item causes heart explosion.

Your toy box, house and car resemble mini arsenals with neon-tipped guns, knives and swords.

Sending them on laps and random exercises through the house to burn energy is an every-evening activity.

You recognize the importance of calling them by their self-given and decided super hero name of the day.

You become accustomed to the smell of little wet puppy dog when they come inside from playing.

You wish and hope and dream that they will always want to snuggle, hold hands and hug and share kisses all the time but know deep down inside that a time is coming when that will fade and they will become very cool...

They are boys. They are strong. They are brave. They are wild with energy and imagination and passion. They are hilarious. They are fun. They are so very smart. They are handsome. They are creative. They are delightful. They are sensitive. They are tender. They are aware. They are so loving. They are compassionate. They are thoughtful. They are arrows....and I will enjoy them, soak them up, breathe them in while they are in my quiver. I will do everything I can to sharpen them and shape them so that when it is time to release them to the wild and crazy world, they will be ready, equipped and fierce with love for their Father and others.

Dear Baby,

Dear Baby,

You are so far away yet so close in our hearts.  We don't know you, your birth family, your caregivers...  We don't know what you've experienced or will experience before we meet you.  We don't know if you're fed, clothed, or held.  We don't know if anyone hears you or answers you when you cry.  We miss you, though.  There's a very obvious hole in our family where you belong.  We talk about you all the time.  We pray for you all the time.  Your big brothers love you so much.  They ask to come to Africa to get you regularly.  Right now we are just waiting.  Waiting on the Lord to show us who you are and when we will be able to come get you.  We're getting ready for you.  We're moving to a new house in Columbus where Daddy works soon and will have your spot all ready for you.  We're raising money to be able to come get you when it's time.  So many friends and family who already love you are sharing money with us to be able to come get you!  We think about you constantly.  Mommy wears a necklace with a picture of Africa and a heart over Uganda on it.  It has your brother's birth stones and a pearl for you since Uganda is called the "Pearl of Africa", and you will certainly be our pearl.  Mommy rubs her necklace with her thumb and pointer finger so many times a day thinking about you and wishing I could touch you, hold you, kiss you, rock you, feed you.  Everyone at Lifeline, the agency who will help us get you and the place where Daddy works, is working really hard to find you and many many others who don't have a mommy and daddy come home to their forever family.  I just want you to know that the same Father who assures us with peace is holding you and watching over you.  He knows when we will get to come hold you and bring you home forever with us.  He loves you.  He loves you so very much.  We adore you and can't wait to have you home.  Our love for you is bursting in our hearts and we can't wait to share it with you!

Love always and forever and ever,
Mommy