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.