My daughter is currently getting her two-year-old molars, and it's almost mommy-suicide time. I've had a day or two lately, full of tantrums and night wakings, where I've wondered, “Couldn't I get my hands on some of that sleep potion they had in Romeo and Juliet, and just skip a few days?” But, alas, she needs me. I can feel the little mountains of teeth pushing up through her sensitive little gums, and I know she must be uncomfortable. But sometimes I wish I could lay down on the floor, beat it with my fists and scream because I'm uncomfortable and still need to go to work, clean the house, do the never-ending laundry...

Adulthood can suck. That being said, one good thing about having a toddler is vicarious childhood- I get to run in the sprinkler, moo in the grocery story, and read books about talking possums. I feel a sense of accomplishment when I sing “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” without missing a beat. All this while my childless friends are publishing books and getting Fulbright scholarships. “Once a Fulbright, always a Fulbright” is what they say. Well, good for you, motherhood is the same way – you're branded for life.

My daughter, who is not yet two, has begun outsmarting me and also expressing embarrassment at my attempts to entertain her. “You're silly mommy” she told me the other day while I was singing a made-up song about sunscreen while I tried to rub her down without protest. Then, last night she wanted my chair and I refused to give it to her. After a moment of thought, she said to me: “play super-mungry?” “Super-mungry” is our version of superman, the game you play by putting a toddler on your feet and flying them through the air. She got the nickname “mungry” from “hungry mungry” because she nursed and ate nonstop as a baby. Anyway, “super mungry” must be played on the floor, so I caved-in and slid out of my chair to entertain her. However, as soon as I got down, she made a bee-line for my chair! In other words, my child never had any intention of playing a floor game, but just wanted to manipulate me out of my chair, which she did with ease. Premeditation. Very cute.

So, here I am, outwitted by and too silly for a 21-month-old while my pals make headlines. Still, I have a sneaking suspicion that I'll be a better person for it. At least I'm not at risk of becoming too pleased with myself!