Obviously I need to change something...

(no pun intended)

So during my Sunday afternoon rest, I hear this:

"Mom, Sarah pooped in her panties."

Ugh, I think to myself.

Then I walk into the hallway, and there is my 3 year-old washing her own panties out in the toilet.

Ouch. I think I have been too hard on her. She didn't want to incur my wrath, so she'd thought she would take care of it herself.

(I won't mention the fact that I stepped in the poop on the bathroom floor and unknowingly tracked it all over the carpet upstairs...)

I think I'll ground myself. For a year. That actually sounds relaxing.

Pathetic! :)

On a good note, there weren't any accidents outside of the house today! Thank goodness for tender mercies!