Potty training woe's

I have to blog about poo, i'm so sorry. I'm going to call it poo too, because poop just sounds kinda gross, and feces is just a weird word.

I wish that I was blogging to tell you that the potty training was done. Conquered. Pamper's in the trash, more cash in my wallet. Sadly, this just isn't the case. My daughter is very stubborn, and wet britches must be all the rave. Lately Emma just wants to be naked. She gets home and strips down. No diaper does not mean she wants to go on the potty, she just wants to run free. I think I ask her 32 times an hour if she has to use the potty and her answer is always no.

Mom: "Emma do you have to go potty"

Emma: "No momma, no potty"

Mom: "Emma are you sure? Lets just try."

Emma (running, voice raised): "Nooooo! No potty!"

The more I ask the louder and longer the no becomes. Usually she even smiles at me afterwards. She is so... Joey.

This afternoon was no different. The minute we got home Emma was taking off her pants, and then the diaper quickly followed. She did really well, no accidents, and even used the potty for her Dad when he got home (traitor!). Then Drew came over with his Mom and him and Emma got to running. They were running and laughing and running some more. Then it happened. The poo, it was everywhere. It was in Emma's hands, down her legs. She was screaming, Drew was screaming, the dog was going wild. Thank God my sister was here to help me. I threw Emma in the tub and started rinsing while Drew blocked the poo on the carpet so the dog didn't eat it (Drew's idea, not mine. Gosh, gross! Diesel would never eat poo!). It was awful, and thank goodness only a little bit got on the carpet. It could have been a very serious, life altering catastrophe. Had my darling, neat freak of a husband been inside and not out messing with the Christmas lights, it certainly would have been.

I'm hoping that maybe this whole ordeal with convince Emma that soiling herself is just nasty. I'm not convinced, but one can be hopeful. This was definitely one of those etched-in-my-mommyhood-memory kind of moments. Sorry, I just had to share.