"Mother, he's a boy," Matt reminds me for the millionth time. "Let him be a boy."

Sometimes I feel like I'm living with an alien species. I will never understand this thing called Boy.

Boy likes to climb, likes to build things, likes to shoot (fake) guns, likes to yell, likes to win, likes to scare his Mother half to death by playing air guitar on a 40 ft. high rock.

I forget sometimes that Boy is not Girl. Boy does not want to drink tea from a tea-cup. Boy wants to use the tea-cup for target practice.

Boy likes to say, "Mom, can I jump over the banister to see if my parachute will work?" His parachute is a pillowcase. Boy sees no problem with flipping over backward into the 2ft. end of the pool.

Boy despises worksheets, stickers and pencils. Boy loves recess.

Boy has figured out that by singing loudly he can annoy the heck out of his sister. Boy sings loudly precisely for this purpose.

Boy can sit for three hours constructing a Lego Star Wars At-At robotic machine. Boy can't sit still for three minutes to eat his food.

Boy wants to conquer the world.

Boy has conquered this Mommy's heart.