Not a story for pregnant women or people who gag easily.

After 4 parties squeezed in to 2 days, I thought it would be nice to spend a quiet Sunday evening at home (quiet being relative). We usually have Sunday dinner with my parents and siblings every week (which Mike loves) but my Mom is on a much needed getaway and we didn't ever get anything planned. So I heated up some leftovers (best way to "make" dinner) and we sat down to eat. I called for Mya but got no response. We ate for a few minutes and I called again. Still no response. So Mike went on a hunt. 5 minutes later, he came back down still calling for her.
"Check the closet" I told him. that's her favorite place to hide. Usually in our closet tucked behind my clothes where we can't see her. She wasn't there. So he went to the toyroom closet and at first glance didn't see her there either. then he looked in the "v" of the closet door and she was tucked inside, in squatting position. She was taking a dump. And instinctively didn't want an audience. So he let her be.
We ate for a few more minutes (because sometimes completing her business can take a while) and Jaida decided to go check on her progress. Jaida, for some odd reason, is oddly fascinated by poo. I think she gets it from her Uncles Shane and Jeremy.
The next thing I hear is Jaida's laughter and then "Mom. MOM. You gotta come up here. There's poo everywhere." I looked at Mike (secretly hoping he'd respond first) and then got up to assess the damage.
Here's the problem. After Mya poops, she sticks her hand down her diaper and squishes whatever is in there. I guess just to make sure something really came out. Usually I catch her before she touches anything else (and yes, this has happened multiple times--some of you may remember the story where she painted her body with the poo). This time, she decided to paint the closet doors. Super awesome. I pulled her out of the closet before she could contaminate any of the toys inside, washed (scrubbed until they were almost bloody) her hands, changed the offending diaper, and sent her down to her dad while I cleaned up the war zone. Jaida, unfortunately, had decided she would start the clean-up on her own. (Seriously--obsessed with poo. Who willingly cleans up someone else's poo?) On her way back to the bathroom with some of the poo (I'm just seeing how many times I can type poo in this story) she dropped the kleenex and then smeared the poo into the floor and the grooved stool on the floor.
So I sent Jaida down to Mike as well. On her way down the stairs I hear "Oooh. There's poo all over the stairs." Are you freaking kidding me? I came to look, and sure enough, a little trail all the way down. So I holler to Mike "Will you check Mya's flip-flops. Is there poo all over them?" A pause. "Yep." No idea how it got on to the bottom of her flip-flops. I didn't see anything that had dropped out of the diaper. So my only guess is that she was trying to get it off her hand and the bottom of her shoes was the next best option after the closet doors. And yes, she was wearing flip-flops in the winter. That's how we roll over here at the Ross house, much to Mike's dismay.
Needless to say, my quiet Sunday evening turned into an irritating length of time scrubbing and sanitizing my entire house and children.
I supposed it's time to potty train. But knowing Mya, she'll dump in the toilet and then just pull it out and do her damage.
Oh, the joys of kids.