Seven years ago I became the mother of a son. Though there was a brief moment during my pregnancy when the idea seemed improbable and daunting, mothering boys now feels like the most natural thing in the world to me.

My inaugural boy, my Rascal, was the first to teach me some very important nuggets about mothering the other half…

I learned that toy trains are for crashing into each other, rocks are for throwing into rivers, and towers are for building and knocking down. Again and again and again.

I learned that two can play at the bathroom humor game and sometimes it’s the only way to gain cooperation.

I learned to carry a Hot Wheels car in my purse and a soccer ball in my car. At all times.

I learned that getting a boy to talk about his feelings has nothing to do with saying the right words, but everything to do with being in the right place at the right time and keeping my mouth shut.

I learned that raised surfaces, no matter if they are 3 inches or 30 inches high, are always the perfect launchpads.

I learned that you can never own too many lightsabers.

I learned that when in doubt, shout “Tag! You’re it!” and run like hell.

Happy Birthday, Rascal! I love you to outer space and back.