The Journal Times Online - Racine, Wisconsin

Several months ago my oldest was trying to sneak an extra snack after school instead of doing his homework. After pulling him out of the kitchen cupboard, I tackled him and began tickling him. I had him pinned and begging to do his homework.

Just before I let him up, my 2-year-old pads over with little bare feet. She looks at her brother and then at me. "Mommy!" she said, pointing her finger at me with a stern look on her face. "Be nice."

My baby girl thinks she’s the mom.

I must admit, I love it. I mean, this mom’s first two children were rough and tumble boys who always wanted to mimic their dad. They wanted to fix stuff in the garage with him, mow the lawn and do other yard work with him, go to work with him, have a watch and wallet like him, etc.

Then along comes this funny little girl who actually likes to help me do laundry, clean up after dinner, and boss around the boys in the house. She loves when I paint her toenails pink and is forever trying to steal my lip gloss from my purse.

"In time out!" she’ll say to her brothers if they are wrestling or arguing over a toy.

"Sit down boys," she tells them at the dinner table.

"No lelling," my baby will say in a purposely quiet voice while they are jumping around the family room, hollering out.

At the babysitter, she’ll help call all the kids in from outside for lunch. She hands out bottles to the little ones. She talks to the babies in a sing-song voice, mimicking what she hears from the adults.

Sometimes she tries to boss the kids there too, but we’re working on that.

And just when I was getting used to this mini me — the one child that I hoped would like to read more than watch TV and would want to work in the garden with me instead of running through the spray of my watering hose — she turned 2 and started to discover her brothers are more fun.

She wants to play video games. "I want a DS," she tells me, pointing to her brothers playing the Nintendo handheld devices on the couch.

"No!!!!," I wanted to scream.

Then Friday morning she clamored down the steps with them to the basement playroom so they could dress her up in her "superhero" costume. She came up wearing a red bandana tied around her like a cape, another tied at her waist as a utility belt, and a black sweat band around her wrist.

"My costume," she said.

I’m smiling and telling her how cool she looks, but all the while I’m thinking, "Oh no, not another superhero."

I suppose I should have seen what was coming when one of her first words was "Batman."

And then there’s the potty. She is ready to be potty trained, but we’re having a problem getting her to sit on the toilet without freaking out. Instead, she stands in front of it.

All of this wouldn’t be so bad except my little girl is also beginning to mimic the more unflattering aspects of her two older brothers’ behavior. While we were on vacation recently, she began to tell my husband and I, "No!"

She has started to run away when it’s time to get dressed in the morning. She’s realized that cleaning up toys is not really a game. She also now sneaks snacks out of the kitchen cupboard when I’m in the other room.

What happened to my sweet little girl?

Then she’ll crawl up in my lap and sing "Itsy Bitsy Spider," or "You are my Sunshine," to me. I’ll watch her pick up one of her baby dolls, pat it on the back and give it a kiss on the head. She still tells her brothers to go in time out if they smack, flick or push each other.

I guess she’s still my baby girl at heart, even if she can wield a plastic sword with the best of them.