Holy Crap!

From the title, I would think you've probably guessed already, but this one is going to be about our wonderful and amazing adventures in potty training in our quest to never buy another diaper ever. I'm sure no other parents out there can relate to that one!

So, Anna does AMAZING at school with her potty training. Not one accident all day long. Usually not even while she's napping. Wee wee? In the potty every time. Poo poo? In the potty. Every. Single. Time. Without fail. Sometimes she even wears "big girl panties" instead of her pull-up.

Home, on the other hand, is a completely different story. Not to say that she doesn't have her moments where she tells us when she needs to go and uses the potty like a champ. She does. But more often than not, she'll tell us *after* she's already done it or not tell us at all then deny it when we smell it. I'll ask her, "If you didn't do it, then who put the poo poo in your pants?", and she does not hesitate to place the blame elsewhere.

The past 24 hours have not exactly been what I would call forward-steps toward diaper-free living. Last night, after I gave Anna a bath, she was sitting in the drained tub, all squeaky clean, playing (and refusing to get out). She told me, "I go poo poo." So I immediately started scrambling, trying to get her on the potty. She then vehemently denied that she had to go, so I figured I'd let her play a little while longer. I looked away (I'm not even sure why or for how long) but when I looked back, she was laying in the tub on her tummy with a huge turd just perched perfectly on top of her little hind end. I'm sure I don't have to detail what happened next, but all I can say is - so much for that concept of getting out of the tub cleaner than when you went in!

Then, this morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, I sat Anna on the kitchen counter. Then the conversation went something like this:

Anna: "Poo poo hurt me."

Me: "Did you go poo poo in your diaper?"

Anna: "Yeah"

Me: "Well, don't worry. Mommy will change you."

And it was at this point that I stood her up so that I could bring her to her room for a diaper change - only to discover a big pile of poop on my countertop! Apparently, diapers can only hold so much, and this was overflow.

And at that point, I KNEW the day could only improve, because there's some kind of two-poop-incidents-in-a-day law or something. Right? Somebody please assure me. :)

*Note: Please do not let this story scare you away from eating at my house. I can assure you that bleach is my friend. lol.