2011

Negative.   Nap in that sense comes from the Dutch.   Nappy and napkin come from the French rooted back into meaning table cloth.  

Short chapter for today, but we needed a breather after the drama of the previous one. 4: The Aftermath Theo Thankfully, that was all over now. My mom had waited outside the bathroom until I’d come out. I’d wiped my face, as much as possible, and tried to walk in a composed manner. I kept telling myself, I’m fine. Everything is going to be okay. I didn’t know if I believed it. I was focusing on keeping my breathing steady. At least I was no longer in wet pants, no longer in the principal’s office, no longer around Max. Small wins, right? My mom was looking at me with such concern, and it killed me. I didn’t want to be pitied. We walked quite quickly to the car, I think both my mom and I wanting to get out of the situation as soon as possible. But as we got in, and I got comfortable in the front seat, my mom eventually spoke. “Theo, can you help me figure out where you’re at? What’s going on?” She was using what I’d come to know as her “psychologist voice”. “I don’t really want to talk about it. I’m feeling very frustrated and angry and confused.” “Those sound like big emotions, is there anything specific you want to say?” I didn’t know how to reply. Where would I start? With how freaked out I was feeling? With how I thought the school would think I’m a freak? Or worse, a failure? That I was scared she was disappointed in me? That this was all a mistake, and Max was lying? “I think I felt frustrated that you weren’t listening to me. That it felt like you were just hearing Max, and that anything I was saying was getting overridden. It felt that everything was taken out of proportion, and that I didn’t get a say.” “Oh, Theo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to be like that at all! I’m just worried about you. You’ve always been the person who holds it together so much, until you can’t any more. And I’ve seen you getting more and more stressed recently.” I took a deep breath. “Yes, I’ve been stressed. I’m so scared of messing up, and everyone thinking that I’m a disappointment. I know I push myself, and I know I’ve been getting overwhelmed more often recently. But that doesn’t mean I’ve begun to wet my pants.” She pulled over to the side of the street, and looked at me intensely, without saying anything. Eventually, she nodded. “I believe you. Or at least, I want to. But we also have to accommodate the school. I don’t think that what Principal Bell said is the right approach. I don’t like getting this other kid involved, at all. But maybe we can just see how it goes? “I’m going to set up this doctor’s appointment for as soon as possible, at a time that suits both of us. I was thinking Friday. That means you only have to be doing this “wellness routine” for a few days. And maybe you can try and use it as a way to prove them wrong? Or maybe it will even help take some of the pressure off?” “I doubt it,” I snapped. “How is controlling when I go to the toilet, or logging any of that going to help me?” “It means there’s someone else looking out for you. It means you wouldn’t be carrying everything just by yourself. It’s not about the toileting, but having someone who knows what you’re going through,” she replied quietly. “I think I could try the scheduled times, those seem silly, but fine. But I don’t want someone logging everything, and if it had to be logged, why couldn’t I do it myself? And then *Max* of all people?” “I think they don’t trust you. If Max is right, and you’ve been covering up accidents, then you can’t be the one to report them yourself, can you? And I also don’t think it can be one of your friends. Because you’re close to them, so they’re not entirely unbiased, are they?” “But neither is Max! He’s a bully.” “Oh. Maybe you can ask if there’s someone else who could be the liaison? But that means explaining all of this to someone else. Are you sure you want to do that?” “If it means not dealing with Max, then yeah.” “Then that’s fine, we can do that. But for tomorrow, Max has already been assigned. But it can be for just one day.” “Okay, one day.” I was dreading it. It still seemed like absolute torture, but at least I knew there was light at the end of the tunnel.   Max Today had been such a weirdly fun day. It was already starting to spiral out of control, but I was happy to use that to my advantage. I was lying in my room, kinda bored, and going over the day in my mind was making the boredom feel manageable. Luke was still in daycare, and my parents weren’t home yet. But I was still grounded, and I didn’t want to push their buttons. One thing that really helped today was that I know that Theo very rarely breaks his word. Sure, he might if the circumstances were extreme, but I also know he’s incredibly honest. If he makes an agreement, he sticks to it. So I’m really hoping he follows that. Because that means I can treat him like a little boy, and he won’t fight back! To be entirely honest, I didn’t know exactly what that meant. I also didn’t expect Theo’s Mom and the principal to be so easy to manipulate. I had photo evidence, but I hadn’t even needed to use it. This liaison idea was also fascinating. I was wondering if the “log” might be similar to the one we had for Luke, that we’d needed to fill in for the daycare. That one had times listed, and a whole key for whether they used a potty or not, and the state of their diaper. And it had a super cute design too! Hang on, that sounds fun: what if one day, I “accidentally” swap Theo’s log with a page from Luke’s chart! Either way, I now had Theo nicely under my thumb. I kinda wanted to send him a message. He hadn’t replied to the previous ones, but I could see he’d read them. I was kinda grateful I had a phone my parents didn’t know about. I started typing: “Don’t forget tomorrow you belong to me, buddy. I hope you’re ready to prove to me how little you really are.” I read it back, and something felt very wrong with it. I don’t want to push Theo too hard, just knock him down a few pegs. I didn’t need to act for anyone here, so why was I being so mean? I tried again: “Hey, just making sure you’re doing okay after today. Sorry for—” No, I wasn’t going to apologize to him. Did I feel bad? Yes, maybe, a tiny bit. But he’d brought it upon himself. He could have stopped at any time, but he didn’t. I’m glad he didn’t, because it means that now he’s mine, but I can’t show him vulnerability. One last try. “Just checking in with my favorite kiddo before tomorrow. Principal Bell wants us to take this seriously, so make sure you go potty before bed. I’ll have the logbook ready first period.” Yeah, that felt good enough. Soon after I sent it, the status changed to “read”. I saw the three dots showing that he was typing a reply. And then they stopped. And started again. And stopped. I kept waiting for Theo to say something. About ten minutes later, there was still no reply. Fine. Let him ignore me. He’ll have to talk to me tomorrow morning anyway. But I still kept waiting for a reply. Why wasn’t he saying something? Was he talking to his Mom? Was he emailing the principal, maybe trying to explain everything? Did I hurt him too much — did I actually break him? Was I being too mean, too harsh, too cruel? I ended up going to his Instagram. He didn’t have that many pictures, but there was one picture of him that I loved staring at. It’s a picture of him and his friends covered in paint, and he’s got such a grin on his face, that I’ve never seen him make around me. And every single time I look at the picture, I end up with all these mixed feelings. It’s like there’s butterflies, but also hatred, confusion, and longing. And I’ve tried to make myself stop looking, but I keep on going back. I ended up looking longer at it today, and imagined the guy in that picture in the wet pants that he was in earlier today. I thought that would make me want him less. But it didn’t — my body was definitely saying the opposite. Just imagine what he’d be like in a— No, I stopped the thought in its tracks. I was already hard, and I didn’t want to be. I angrily closed the app, still waiting for a reply. Nothing. I locked the phone, placing it under my pillow. Just remember, Theo. You’re mine. You’re gonna be my perfect, little boy. I don’t want to break him, or hurt him. I just want to show him who he really is.  

I too wear terry lined plastic pants over disposable nappies (when away from home) and also use an under sheet pad to catch any leaks. At home I don’t mind the sheets getting wet, as long as the mattress is protected, as they get washed every week. 

I'm pretty American in that. In all three it's: diapers, strollers, and pacifiers.  If I want to infalize it, I might use paci, or binky, but diapers and stroller is always used it.

What lovely training pants, very babyish and reminds me of what I wore as a child.  I have always called them nappies. Born and bred in the UK it’s what everyone had always called them; parents, adverts, manufacturers. Makes me tingle when I hear the word ‘nappy’ or ‘nappies’.