We've been reading pottybooks for months, starting long before Westley was even close to ready for potty training. We have quite acollection, which I find sort of funny. In the absence of toddler influence, adults don't really talk about poop, and certainly don't collect books about it. At least, no adult I'm close to does. That I know of.
(Ew. I just grossed myself out a little bit.)
Of all the pee-and-poop, diaper-ditching books that we own, the one Westley seems to like best is Fred Rogers' "Going to the Potty," a book I remember having as a child. Needless to say, it's pretty dated-looking, right down to the white plastic potty chair that all the children are shown using.
And, naturally, that was the very potty chair Westley decided he had to have.
"We'll look for a potty chair like that for you," I would assure him, every time he'd ask about it.
"Wif a wid," he'd add firmly.
"Yes. With a lid."
Except do you know how hard it is to find a potty chair with a lid? Maybe I just suck at shopping for toddler stuff, but it seemed like every potty chair I came across, even the fancy-ass (heh) ones, were lid-less. I thought about just buying the Baby Bjorn potty chair, which lots of people seem to like, and hoping Westley would go for it. But I was pretty confident he wouldn't. He's firmly in the stage where when he gets his heart and mind set on something, that's it. Substitutions are not an option.
The potty chair "wif a wid" that I finally ended up buying was a lucky Ebay find. I crossed my fingers that Westley would like it, that it would be comfortable and easy to use, and that I wouldn't have to begin my potty-search anew.
Westley's potty arrived yesterday evening, and I think he used it ten times in the first half hour. Rob and I actually lost count. Westley went back to the bathroom over and over again, closing the door (for some "pwivacy"), and then returning to the living room a minute later, proudly carrying his full potty. I wish I'd taken a picture of his little face. You'd think he'd just won the lottery.
This morning, Westley's overnight diaper was barely used. He headed to the bathroom immediately. I know the Christmas-morning-level excitement will probably die down eventually. But right now, pee and poop are cause for major celebration. Westley fucking loves his potty.