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2011
2011 Survey Questions
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Current Donation Goals
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November BillsRaised $400 of $400 target
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General FundRaised $10
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Pee dreams have remained a thing over the last week (as has the bedwetting). I’ve had “nappy dreams” before but they’re different and I haven’t seen one in a long time. Arising in the early phases of my permanent-nappies lifestyle, “nappy dreams” were almost invariably associated with themes of exposure and embarrassment rather than pee. In them, I’d be inexplicably parading around at my work or with friends in a series of dream-implausible scenarios where my nappy was obviously on display and could not be hidden no matter how hard I might try. The turbo-charged variant of this festival of guilt-and-embarrassment was the dream where I would find myself in an extremely dirty nappy (not something I commonly do) that was leaking poop extravagantly before friends, Romans, countrymen, whoever really. Like the brooms in the “Sorcerer’s Apprentice”, attempts for me to clean up or conceal the evidence of this most distressing of nappy failure modalities simply resulted in orders-of-magnitude multiplications of the leakages. Pee dreams however eponymously focused on pee and not really the nappies at all. When I stop and think about it that does seem slightly odd. In be beginning it seemed pee dreams often involved me using (or at least ATTEMPTING to use) a toilet having commenced a phase of life where I’d resolved NOT to. As the months and years rolled by they morphed to include pants wetting and bed wetting for a range of typically-dreamlike-stupid reasons but typically featured little to nothing about the nappies themselves. I’ve always been interested in these kind of dreams because they provide fascinatingly distorted reflections from a place I can’t see. They’re like smudged and scrambled postcards from my sub-conscious. Anyway, enough history, back to this week. I was sitting on our bench seat in the back garden when it came upon me that I should pee. Almost-but-not-quite reflexively I granted the necessary muscle-permission and within a few seconds was duly rewarded with a burst of warm bath at my crotch. And another burst. Then another. Then another. This bath seemed to be filling for an inexplicably long time. I didn’t even particularly need to go and yet, here it all was! I knew however that the Rearz Incontrol BeDry Night Premium nappy (“Colin”) I was wearing had seen very little use and would effortlessly cope so I didn’t bother with any attempts at flow moderation, checking for leaks or shifting position. I just sat there and enjoyed the experience. I’ve always felt there is a simple sensual pleasure in wetting a nappy that even vanilla folk would enjoy if they could only put aside their negative conditioning. In the typical manner of the nappy-whom-we-shall-refer-to-as-Colin, the sensation upon wetting one was, well, wet. Almost cloth-like, an initial hot trickling sogginess really does feel like you are peeing in your pants but through the miracles of SAP-infused padding and plastic, your legs and ankles stay dry. As the garment dampens that warm waterfall feeling dissipates into to the more usual wet-disposable-nappy sensations of just warmth and heaviness. As yet another instalment of my never-ending-pee announced itself at my crotch I began to feel tendrils of wetness creeping under my bum. This was a good sign: haptic evidence of a nappy wicking fluid away to drier parts well-endowed with absorbency rather than simply saturating itself at the crotch and leaking. This “disperse and capture” is a BeDry-nappy-class party trick and it’s a good one. When I awoke the next morning I could clearly recall this dream and my wet bum yielded private testimony to the veracity of the event that triggered it. Clearly it didn’t happen whilst sitting outside on a bench though. It was a pee dream heralding the fact that yet again, I’d wet the bed. The odd thing was that in THIS pee dream, I was fully aware I was wearing a nappy and I even correctly knew its make and model. For some reason it seems weird to me to be dreaming about wetting my nappy. In astronomical terms, the heliopause is that distance from our sun in space where the influence of our own sun is extinguished by interstellar medium. This was the point that Voyager 1 and Voyager 2 probes crossed in 2012 and 2018 respectively whereupon they were considered to have truly left our solar system. I wonder if pee dreams that involve me using nappies rather than toilets/cloths/bedding mean that I’ve crossed my very own small heliosphere: my subconscious has moved outside the solar influence of “toilet” and “nappy” now prevails. I suspect my beloved would quite like all of my nappies to be in interstellar space too. Something is on my mind though. I just can’t quite see what it is. I’ve still been mostly wet at night this week. This transition seems to have been unheralded, abrupt and has survived me documenting it. I was reminded of a similar “milestone” I crossed about 3 years ago when again, apparently almost overnight, I went from bedwetting once every couple of weeks to reliably sleep-peeing once, twice or even thrice weekly. My nocturnal wetting went from “it happens sometimes” to “it happens quite a bit” quite suddenly. Just as suddenly, it seems to have ratcheted up to “usually”. I wonder if I will ever go back to being dry at night or if this is it now. -
Patsy laughed and headed back to the class. “Really, Kayla? I’m sure you did the same yesterday. Don’t try to fool mommy,” Annie grabbed Kayla’s hand and led her to her office. “You will wear these mittens from now on,” Annie got two lockable mittens and forced them on Kayla’s hands, “ask your schoolmates for help and go to the nurse when you need a fresh diaper.” -
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