Eliza's been super into "going potty" lately. Yet, hasn't actually GONE to the potty. Every morning, I offer "panties or diaper" and she almost always chooses panties.
Yesterday, she didn't want to wear either, and that was okay with me. She had a wicked rash on her bum from the previous night (she must have pooped before she went to bed, then woke up in the middle of the night. When I changed her, it was horrible! ) so she was going commando.
I was typing an email when I heard her say, "poop mommy. See it?" I turned around and did, in fact, see it. It was just coming out. In a gallant effort to get her to the potty for a success, I picked her up under the arms and sort of ran towards the bathroom.
I almost made it. About 1 foot outside the bathroom, the feces fell to the floor. Then, since I have to follow those darn laws of motion, I stayed in motion and stepped right in it. Covering the underside of my entire left foot.
Then, thinking she may have to go some more, I lifted her up to the potty. In doing so, some poo that had not fallen off onto the floor, fell onto my hand.
I think it's official.
I hate potty training.