A throne of her own

I wanted to find Britt a pink princess potty chair, but I settled for this one. It's still a throne, sort of, and it plays a royal fanfare when she makes a "deposit." Not that she has yet, but she loves it. Plus, it was only 20 bucks.

Oh, great -- now I'm reading the reviews and they mostly say this potty chair sucks.

And now, a couple of potty-training stories to embarrass my children:

Bob had a wood-frame potty chair that he kept tumped over on its back; using the feet for handles, he pushed it all around the house for months. It was his "tractor," just like his Grampa's Gravely. He was horrified that we wanted him to potty in it, so we finally had to buy him a new one.

Bridgie potty-trained herself at eighteen months -- I didn't have to do a thing (yay, Bridgie!). She learned by watching her brother and me. Mostly her brother, I guess, because when she first started trying she would stand there and fumble around for her wee-wee, not quite understanding that she wasn't equipped like her brother and therefore she could not pee standing up.