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Baby Talk
Let your baby side show.
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Posts
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My little one's main job is to be next to me at all times. His very presence is soothing because he is a very calm, patient, and loving baby boy. He is my 'emotional support baby,' and that helps a lot, mainly due to how stressful work can be for me. Having him there, knowing he belongs to me fully, helps me a lot. He also never asks me to do anything; I change his diapers, feed him, bathe him, and take care of him because it's something I enjoy. I guess being a Mommy helps me recharge for life outside the house in that sense 😊 -
By Personalias · Posted
Brittney The quartet and their new allies planned the rest of the afternoon until the giants started arriving to take their new friends back. Then it was just a waiting game. As long as they weren’t disciplined or otherwise made to forget again, the plan would be ready to go tomorrow. The other four would likely act as a backup in case it did. As near as she could tell, they weren’t subjected to the same regimen of amnesia inducing reprogramming as Brittney and her playmates were. They were already ‘good babies’ where Granny was concerned’. Brittney had been placed in the highchair the closest to the laundry room. Other than Granny’s bedroom, the laundry room was the only other place in the house that wasn’t partitioned off by a tall immovable baby gate. The longest straight line any of them could walk- or crawl- was from the gate in the playroom, straight through the kitchen, into the laundry room and into the garage. Trying to look without looking like she was searching for something, Brittney craned her neck, peering into the little passageway. Yes. Pay dirt! She ate the vaguely fruit flavored slop with gusto that morning. Just like a good baby. “Please no more cartoons, Granny,” she begged. “I’m soooo tired of them. I just wanna play with the toys and color and stuff.” Whether or not they were allowed freedom while the second shift ate their breakfast or were exposed to more mind-sapping cartoons felt like a real coin flip. Brittney didn’t like coin flips. Pleeeeeease…!” Granny’s bottom lip protruded out in consideration. “You know what?” Granny smiled. “The funny thing is, I know you’re playing with me, but…” she sighed. “I do like to spoil my babies.” She unclicked the tray and boosted Brittney down to the linoleum floor. “Of course, you’re going to have to wait to get your diapers changed.” Collectively, the quartet sighed in relief and transitioned to sagging in defeat. Good. Let her think their spirits were broken. All according to plan. And this was a good plan. Now that the worst thing that could have happened to her had happened, she was back in her element. See what needs to be done, what steps needed to be taken to do it, and who had the best skillset to achieve it. “You four get a head start on playing while I feed the other babies,” Granny said and shooed them into the playroom while Peter, Wendy, Jon, and Michael were loaded up into highchairs. That head start had been vital to their mission. “Get the baby powder,” Brittney whispered. Then she added, “Spare bottle on the second shelf.” Christy and Tyler nodded and worked together to snatch the bottle from the changing table’s second shelf. The chubby boy had had to stand on the twiggy girl’s back to reach far enough, but it was a quick extraction. It would have been better and likely more comfortable if their positions had been reversed with Tyler acting as a footstool for his gal pal, but neither of the girls could stand up at present. Drew and Brittney could have done the same deed; Drew was lighter than Tyler and Brittney was sturdier than Christy, but Tyler needed to stash the baby powder until it was time so that he could retrieve it quickly enough. That and Brittney didn’t want Drew touching her anymore. It was a fresh bottle, but thankfully whatever these giants did to their diaper tapes to keep people from tearing them off didn’t apply to simple plastic wrap and freshness seals. “Still pissed at me?” Drew asked her, quietly. Brittney felt her face scrunch up while her eyes fought back burning tears. “Let’s just get this done,” she said. “Then we’ll talk about feelings.” Drew shrugged, suppressing his own snarl. “Fair enough.” Brittney’s knees scuffed against foamy flooring, crawling toward the television. This was going to be the hardest and maybe grossest part of the plan. Tyler doubled back from the couch where he’d just jammed a full bottle of baby powder under a cushion. They met at the side of the television set where the T.V. was between them and direct line of sight should Granny be standing at the kitchen threshold. They had an entire wall between them and the giantess at present. Christy took point by the changing table, sniffling pathetically so that she could play look out while keeping an eye inside the kitchen. Not being able to talk anymore would technically make her a superb liar. She could babble anything and it would sound like a fussy girl begging for first change of the day. If Tyler and Brittney heard even a smidgen of the girl’s voice, they knew to get clear. Drew sat in the middle of the room, playing casual and saving his energy for what was to come. He’d need it. She pushed aside guiltily half remembered memories of what she and Tyler had done in the crib while the others slept and set her mind to the present. “Ready?” Brittney asked. As serious as she’d ever seen him, Tyler nodded. He muscled his way past her and grabbed hold of the T.V.s electrical chord. “One….two…three!” Tyler pulled it loose and the gentle, almost imperceivable hum of electricity flowing from the wall into the set went silent. More worryingly was the light ‘ka-thunk’ sound of the plug popping out. Brittney held her breath and looked out into the playroom. Drew turned his head sideways and gave her a lazy thumbs up. Like the crinkling squelching noise of their diapers, it had to be either very quiet or one had to be expecting it to notice. “Oh my! Everyone’s so chatty this morning!” Granny gushed from the kitchen. “Do my lovely little darlings have something to tell me? Do they?” Thanks to their backup, the old woman neither heard nor suspecting anything. Brittney and Tyler would need that cover. She had no idea how much noise this next step would make. They both held the television cord in their hands, grimly regarding it as though it were a dead rattlesnake that might yet come back to life and strike them. Out of everything in Granny’s house, the television was the one weak spot. Its power cord was comparatively flimsy and in disrepair; with electrical tape wrapped around it to keep it together. If this place had an Achilles’s heel, it was here. As prepared as Granny was to deal with mischievous children, she’d not prepared herself for desperate adults. They were certainly desperate. This was going to suck. An imaginary dentist inside her head warned her that this was going to be bad for her teeth. Brittney reminded herself that she wasn’t going to ever go see one if today didn’t work out. Also, there was a certain poetic irony of bringing this place down because of the television. Brittney steeled herself. “Ready?” Tyler bared his teeth and clicked them together, his eyes excited. At least someone was having fun. -
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Hope that your uti clears up with medication. -
By Personalias · Posted
Christy Christy scribbled with red and orange crayons on a stray coloring sheet and slid it towards Wendy. “Gaba?” Fire? Can we light this place on fire? Make it burn?” Hope. Anger. Desperation. Wendy seemed to consider it-either that or she was pooping- and looked to her so-called twin beside her. Peter nodded. “Ung.” Yes. Yes they could. None of this was an actual language. Words of any kind, written or spoken were all but beyond her now. Too much Baby Shark. Too much Klownzo. Too many lullabies. Reading and talking were concepts she understood but it was getting harder and harder to feel like it was a skill she’d ever possessed. Communication though? Pictures and symbols? Tone and context? That Christy could do. So could the other ‘broken’ babies; those with neither ability to walk, talk, or chew. It was funny that it had taken her and her friends so long to realize that they all had that same spark of intelligence and drive. Not ‘funny ha-ha’ but still funny. Stupid. Privileged. Selfish. Short-Sighted. Christy looked deep down inside herself to find the right words. Word scribbles were so hard now. She made a scribble of a long hook over a dot. She hoped that was the right picture. “Hhh?” How? Both babblers shrugged. One took a black crayon and made a thick circle with a stick coming out the base and slid it back. “Maka mok…?” Maybe this…? Christy squinted her eyes, trying to decipher the image. Was it a word? Christy took the paper and nudged Brittney. Brittney unburied her tear streaked face from the palms of her hands and sniffled. “Hm?” She looked where Christy pointed and tried to decipher its meaning. “Is this like…a frying pan? Something in the kitchen?” Wendy shook her head. That wasn’t it. She tapped just under her eye. Seeing what she was up to, Peter brightened and made a circle with his right hand and placed it on his eye. “Glasses?” Brittney said. “A monocle?” Two sets of noses scrunched up in annoyance. This wasn’t it. Realization! Christy tapped Brittney on the shoulder and shut one eye. She held an invisible handle just beneath her eye and then leaned in uncomfortably close to Brittney as if she were inspecting something. “A magnifying glass?” The twins grinned and touched their noses. Got it! Similar games of charades were going on in the other side of the playroom. Tyler and Drew were sussing out methods of distraction and escape across from Michael and Jon. It made sense to collaborate and brainstorm, but when six out of eight participants couldn’t speak, it made the process painfully slow. It had been necessary for Brittney and Drew to split up, act as translators, and fill each other in. Not the easiest thing in the world. Compounding things was the fact that Brittney was far from her A-game. Granny had just stuck her with a needle and turned her legs to jelly. All the girls were now officially crawlers. Drew had told Granny to do it, too. Granny had said it, Drew hadn’t denied it, and Brittney was not taking it well. Dick move, Drew. Dick move. “A magnifying glass?” Brittney repeated. “Do we even have one of those?” Christy mentally inventoried all of the baby toys in the bins she’d dug around for. The twins shook their heads, sadly, and she joined them. “Where would we get enough direct sunlight to work with, anyway?” It’s not like there was a whole lot of bright natural light to work with. Again, none of the babblers had any answers locked away in their noggins. The goal was simple: Cause a panic, start a fire, force Granny to evacuate and run out into the streets. Best case scenario, most if not all of them could get away. Eight humans and only one giant combined with panicking neighbors and fire trucks for distractions. Not one of them had seen anything resembling strollers and the playpen was too bulky to move quickly. Fact was Granny couldn’t catch all of them. A goal was not the same as a plan, however. Granny’s house was incredibly baby proofed with latches on cabinet doors, gates restricting movement, and electrical sockets covered up. If they were actual children, they’d have been amazingly safe from self harm or getting lost. As trapped adults it just made the house a soft and insidious prison. Combined with the fact that over half their number could no longer walk, they were at a serious disadvantage. How were they going to start a fire to begin with? Lips zipped shut when Granny high stepped back into the room over one of the baby gates. Christy took some crayons and started scribbling out the drawings that had already been made just in case. The boys on the other side of the room took a similar intense interest in the stack of alphabet blocks beside them. Granny paid none of them any mind. She was carrying a laundry basket straight through to the kitchen. The laundry room, Christy remembered, was just past the kitchen which in turn let out to the garage. Apparently she’d tormented them enough for one day and was now catching up on chores. Christy suddenly felt her cheeks spread and an intense lumpy mass shot out into the back seat of her diaper. A switch flipped as soon as she felt it and she collapsed into an orgasmic puddle, instinctively sucking on her thumb just to distract herself from the humiliating joy of it all. The others kindly looked away, pretending not to notice. She pushed herself back up, huffing and puffing. Who needed boys and kisses when using her diaper felt like that? A shudder passed through the girl; that thought was probably the entire end goal of the cream. Granny came back out. “I swear,” she clucked to herself. “So many babies, so much laundry!” Inspiration! Eureka! “Ta-ga-ga!” I’ve got it! Christy’s tone carried it more than anything else. She took out a crayon and started drawing. “A box? A cardboard box? Why a box? A square? What is it?” A few painful minutes of charades and Brittney finally sussed out Christy’s idea. “Christy..that’s…really crazy.” Peter and Wendy nodded, but it was a nod of approval. Crazy like a fox. Crazy enough to work. The sound of crinkling announced Drew’s and Tyler’s approach. “If we can get a fire going, I think we’ve got a way to make it work.” Drew said. Brittney visibly bristled, but not because of the flecks of spittle coming from the boy’s toothless mouth. Christy ran her own tongue along smooth moistened gums and quietly bristled her own disgust thinking about Brittney and Tyler. She’d get over it. Escape first. “Yeah,” Brittney said. “I think we’ve got something to help with that.. But where do we set it off?” Peter, Wendy, Jon and Michael all cast their gazes up at the television. Perfect! Poetic! Just! “Blagergle.” That’ll do.
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