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Fall Fun Pack: Babyland diaper, second soaker, pride pin & wristband, bathroom access card. All for just $19.99 https://biggerdiapers.com/product_info.php?cPath=26&products_id=87

cool,he an I are friends too.

That is wonderful you have found someone to love again and be with. It is great your children know and also respect your choices. I am happy for you.

Welcome Mommy Linda! I have NO problem with anything you have said.

Well, I already do a lot of laundry with the spills and stuff that Lexi gets on her cloths so adding washing the cloth diapers wouldn't be much added work. I am also retired so I have time. Saving money is always a must. I am just really new and I suppose I got disposables out of convenience more than anything. I will probably transition over to cloth at some point.

Currently I use disposables on my baby girl, but my own children who are all grown up all used cloth diapers and it did save money especially back when I was young and didn't have much money. I am seriously thinking about putting my baby girl into cloth diapers but have yet to do it.

Definitely would enjoy taking my baby girl to see but we shall see. It may have to wait till it comes out on DVD or Netflix.

Last week my AB and I were in Target doing some shopping and we were walking around. She is not allowed to tell me when she uses her diaper but with this one shortly after it happened I could smell it and I am pretty sure many of the customers and Target workers could as well. I quickly took her by the hand and led her to the front of the store where they thankfully had a Family Restroom. She waddled the entire way and the pooped had to be squishing the entire time. We got in the family restroom and I cleaned her up and made her smell all good again and back out to continue shopping.

Worst typos that you would not want to see on a resteraunt menu: Pomogranate smoothie --> pornogranate smoothie Crepes --> creeps Boneless chicken --> bonerless chicken Pot roast --> roasted pot Grilled salmon --> grilled salmonella Happy meal --> nappy meal

The Common Law. White Christmases are really very rare in the south of England, and we had decided to make the best of the cold snap. I don't know whose idea it was to take the children to midnight service , let alone to do it on foot, but as we walked back up the lane to Pembroke House in the bitter cold, I was thinking it had been a silly one. Sally was distinctly miserable. She had had a little accident in the church, the first for weeks, although she had been officially dry for some months. She was not only suffering from wet tights, but also from the intense humiliation of an accident she could have avoided. The other three girls, my Kate and Liz, and Vickie's Caroline were all sensibly nappied under their winter coats, promised "free ones" in exchange for their consent, and could still be cheerful whether they had used them or not; they were still warm under their tights and would face no recriminations for having wet their nappies. That was what "free ones" were about. All of us knew about having a weak bladder, the few seconds of notice followed by the irresistible pressure, the dash to find a toilet - and finding it already occupied. We all knew the pleasure in being able to let it go in the sure and certain knowledge that there was a nappy there to catch it. We all knew the pride there was in being able to hold it long enough to qualify as a member of the rest of the human race. Sally had been thrilled to become dry, and the other children, particularly Caroline, had been very envious; it had been much used as propaganda by Vickie and me in our ceaseless attempts to toilet train our daughters. Now it was all back to Square One. The girls huddled in a defensive group as we marched home. The boys were running riot, making the most of the snow and ice, and Vickie's seven-year-old son Nick had fallen back to write his name in yellow in a snowdrift while the rest of us tried to ignore him. Caroline started to scold him, but her merely replied that he did not have to wear nappies like she did. This gross breach of etiquette, to mention the girls nappies, was swiftly punished by scolding from all quarters, and it was a very chastened Nick who ran back to the group, taking care to stay out of reach of the girls. By the time we got to Pembroke, the children were all shivering, and it was obviously essential go get them into warm beds as quickly as possible. They had all bathed or showered earlier so it was just a matter of changing the girls and calming down the boys. Pembroke was packed out, as was the nursery, which had long been converted into a rather splendid bedroom for visitors with a king-size bed (the changing table had become a well-stocked bar until it had been converted back again into a single bed by the addition of a mattress, and the shelves restocked with nappies). Woe betide the child who fell out of that! A second double bed had been found from somewhere. The plan had been to give the girls a sleepover, a privilege they very rarely enjoyed because of their need to wear nappies to bed every night. It was too much to ask of a host, and too humiliating for the child, so sleepovers took place in the family where everybody understood and accepted the problem. The children were herded up to bed, the girls in the nursery with Caroline's little brother Nick, and the teenagers to their rooms in the old laundry, which had been converted into staff quarters some time ago, where their rollicking could continue without disturbing the adults. We were all tired, and teamwork was obviously needed to change the little children and bed them down. I had brought the bag of nappies that Juliet had given me, as I knew that Aunt Claire was very keen on conservation of resources and disapproved of disposable nappies. The girls had groaned when they saw me do this, as they were none too keen on cloth. Juliet took the lead stripping Sally down and directing her to the bathroom to wash herself and make precautionary use of the facilities. While she was doing so we formed a production line, and ordered the children to strip. Wet nappies were removed (no questions asked), and Vicky passed out wipes to those who needed them, and wiped those who were tardy in using them. Juliet and I knelt facing each other beside the changing table, and I laid out the first nappy, Juliet added a folded baby nappy as a booster (we expected a very wet night after all the food and drink the girls had consumed), sprinkled powder on top, and invited Liz to step forward. Obediently she placed her feet either side of the nappy, Juliet and I took hold of the corners and lifted it up between her legs and pinned it snugly around her waist. Then she stepped forward again to where Holly was waiting with the plastic pants, put her feet carefully though the proffered holes, and Holly pulled the pants up over her nappy and neatly tucked in any surplus. Finally she stepped forward once again to where Aunt Claire was waiting with her footed sleeper held open and ready. By this time Kate was already pinned into her night-nappies, and Vickie was finishing Caroline's wipe down. Kate stepped forward to where Holly was waiting with her pants, and Juliet took another nappy from the pile. I folded a baby nappy inside it, Juliet sprinkled the powder , and Caroline stepped forward and placed her feet either side. Two more pins secured her for a night of serious wetting, and she stepped forward into a rather large pair of baby pants held in Holly's capable hands. Juliet and I both leaned back. It had taken less than five minutes to double-nappy three girls. Then, to our surprise, Sally stepped forward; hands clenched nervously, eyes downcast, smiling sheepishly. I looked at Juliet. Juliet looked at me. We hadn't planned on Sally; she was after all, officially dry, and an occasional accident could be ignored, but this was Christmas Day, it was Pembroke, and she was sleeping in a nursery with three other girls who were thickly nappied and expected to wet themselves copiously. She had a case, and in the custom of the family it had to be allowed. Juliet shrugged. I shrugged. Vickie shrugged, and wiped Sally down carefully with a handful of baby wipes. I took one of the large nappies from the shelf, Juliet folded an ordinary baby nappy as a booster, and then, quite unnecessarily I thought, added a length of paper liner - ostensibly it was to act as a one-way layer to make it more comfortable, but it also underlined Juliet's anger at Sally's having had an accident in church, implying that she might have a more serious accident during the night. Sally accepted the implied rebuke with good grace and stepped forward astride the unusually thick nappy. Juliet and I slowly and carefully hoisted it up between her legs, taking care to keep it all in place until the paper liner rustled as the nappies closed around her loins. We pinned the bulky garment carefully around her waist, and she murmured a word of thanks as she stepped forward to where her big sister was holding a large pair of white baby pants open for her. She placed her hands on Holly's shoulders as she stepped carefully into the pants, and Holly drew them slowly up her legs and over her bulky nappy. Sally reached down and ran her hands over the old familiar feel of the plastic pants as Holly ran her fingers around the leg elastics and pushed them up into the nappy. This was no night to have a leak and a wet patch in the bed she was sharing with Caroline. Holly gave her sister a hug and a kiss, then passed her on to where Claire was waiting with a sleeper held open and ready. Juliet pulled the zip up and gave her daughter a hug, forgiving her for her transgression, and burying the incident. Nick just sniggered until he was silenced by the glares of every woman in the room. I was left wondering if Sally's self-imposed penance was because she wished to express contrition for her accident, or whether she wished to avoid a repetition, or just avoid some punishment, or finally, in my oddly distorted mind, whether she missed the comfort and security of being nappied, no longer having to sleep with one eye open keeping watch on her treacherous bladder. I decided to postpone judgement; the morning would show her to be wet or dry, and we should take it from there. Once she had been zipped into her sleeper Sally appeared to take no further interest in her nappies and gladly climbed into the king-size bed beside Caroline, a child with whom she had shared much of her early childhood, and the two of them snuggled up together, long hair mingling on the pillows, one dark and one fair. I realised then that solidarity with her cousin was a major factor; the coolness that had been between them seemed to have evaporated and they were friends again. Juliet tucked them in, and tucked Nick in - again - before putting the light out and almost, but not quite, closing the nursery door. I curled up close to Matt that night. All the children enjoying Christmas had made me quite broody, and I was turning over the possibilities of having another child. My modelling career was gently receding and being replaced by celebrity appearances and goodwill work. I had the time, and I had the stability to make a nest. The following morning was quiet by our normal Christmas standards. The adults surfaced with the grudging arrival of the daylight, and I walked softly down the corridor to the nursery to investigate the suspicious lack of noise. I opened the door to an idyllic scene of industrious play; the stockings, which had been hung on the bottom of each bed, were being emptied of their contents by happy contented children who were playing cooperatively and peacefully. It couldn't last. Vickie had beaten me to it, and Caroline was being dressed for the day. I took the cue from her squared off backside under the tights which showed she had been changed into a disposable; Vickie was taking no chances with the amount of food and drink which was going to be consumed amid soft furnishings and expensive carpets, and Pembroke Rules were being applied. The girls would be nappied all day long, and changed without blame or rancour when the need arose. I turned my attention to my own two, who were playing out some vital drama with the small dolls that we had put in their stockings. I didn't need to ask if they were wet, it was a given - their nappies were sagging even under their sleepers. I asked if they would like to be changed but got a negative response, so I left it for a moment. Sally was playing with Nick, reading to him from a story-book and I went over and wished her a good morning, She smiled and replied similarly. I quietly raised the question of her dryness - it was evident she had made no attempt to remove her sleeper, and she replied that she was just a little bit wet. I offered to help her change but she declined saying she would wait for Mum. I was quite relieved; the question as to whether she would be changed into a fresh nappy or allowed pants was thus referred to higher authority. Over long years our family had developed customs and precedents to handle our common problem. I returned to my two, who were both lying prone on the bed. The trouble with sleepers is that you cannot change the child without removing the whole sleeper, and this was compounded by the way they were lying. I applied some gentle persuasion, and managed to get a rather grumpy Liz to stand up and submit to being stripped of her sleeper and very wet nappies. She started to shiver as the cold air hit her wet bottom, and I suspect she was putting it on; the nursery was even warmer than usual owing to the heating being turned up and the close pack of people inside. I got her to wipe herself down while I unfolded a fresh nappy for her. She made no objection when I sat her down on top of it, and was obviously keen to get a dry nappy on and be allowed to get on with her game, so it was accomplished swiftly and the tapes rubbed down. I slipped a top on her, and left her to sort out her tights while I turned my attention to Kate, who was equally grumpy. A little more persuasion got her night-nappies into the pail and a smaller, thinner disposable around her loins. I left her to complete dressing as far as she wished to go, and turned back to Sally. Juliet had arrived quietly, as usual, and was sequestered in the corner with Sally, talking softly. I didn't interrupt; they obviously wanted some privacy to discuss the matter, but I left my two playing while I went to attend to my own ablutions; I had standards that had to be kept up. I got around to talking with Juliet as we cleared the breakfast things; those children had eaten as if it was their last chance ever to have food. I asked her what she had decided to do about Sally and her nappy. She paused for a moment, and then shrugged. "She asked me if she could have another one." she replied. I posed a question with my eyebrows. "She said that the strain of keeping it in was getting too much at times, and she wanted a break from it." I hoisted my eyebrows a little further. "She said that it was hell trying to sleep with one eye open, being afraid she might need the loo at any moment. She keeps waking up and going to the toilet to make sure, and then finds it's a false alarm, but when she gets back into bed she cannot sleep - doesn't want to risk wetting the bed." I nodded. I had spent ages doing that when first I was taken out of nappies. "She says that last night was the first really good night's sleep she has had in months. Once she had wetted her nappies, she just relaxed and slept on." I didn't tell her that I often felt that way myself, but had become accustomed to the midnight trek. "She asked me if she could stay in nappies over Christmas; she said it would be so nice not to have those worries, and that the other girls would accept her again." I could see that; not only had my two been fiercely jealous of Sally, but Caroline had the dubious pleasure of sharing a bed with someone who might well wet it, and even if Caroline was well nappied there would be the suspicion that she had leaked. I glanced over to where the kids were playing happily. I couldn't see Sally's lower half from my viewpoint. "Is she wearing one now?" I asked. Juliet nodded. "Vickie gave me one of Carol's. She has plenty - she wasn't expecting Claire to put on a nappy service. I thought I would give her a break, and let her play uninterrupted with the other girls." I understood that; my own children could look after any big business that came along using the re-sealable tapes, but the understanding was that it was Christmas, and the nappies were "free ones" and they could wet them without any inquiries being made. I had already scheduled nappy changes for just before lunch and tea; I knew my girls habits very well. I managed to forecast things quite correctly. After a morning of intensive play the girls were prised lose from the accumulating pile of presents and subjected to nappy checks in the downstairs loo. Both failed, and without further ado were marched upstairs to the nursery, closely followed by Vickie and Caroline. All three were swiftly wiped and changed before their tights came up and their long dresses came down, after which they were required to be present at the formal lunch. By mid afternoon they were sleeping on one of the sofas in the back of the lounge, completely tired out. That was followed at tea time by another nappy check and change. This time we were joined by Sally, who had been snoozing in a big armchair. For once in my life I thanked God for Pembroke Rules - the fuss and bother that had been avoided by making the girls wear full-size disposables was incalculable, pull-ups would never have coped. By 8pm it all caught up with them, the late night before, and the hectic day after, and they had had enough. To be quite frank, the adults had had enough of them too, and they were politely shooed off to bath and bed. To speed the process we ran the production line again, and the girls gleefully cooperated. To our surprise, little Nick insisted in taking his place in forefront of the line, and Vickie had little choice but to agree; at seven years old she felt it wouldn't do any harm, and he would feel at one with the girls in the nursery. This caused great amusement, and my two made a great fuss of him, even though they were now just as thickly nappied themselves, and with greater intent. As I watched the well-padded bottoms waddle across the nursery, I felt a great pang of nostalgia, and I wondered what would happen if I joined the end of the queue, but then reality intruded; I was also the right-hand pin, and if I was absent the whole production line would be disrupted. We waited to see what Sally would do. Both she and Caroline came out of the bathroom together, dressed only in their bathrobes, then Caroline deferred, and let Sally go ahead into the powdering, anointing, nappying and baby-panting line. She waited at the end for Caroline to be zipped into her sleeper, then arm-in-arm they waddled off to bed together, and were tucked in, wrapped in each other's arms. The adults were now happy to relax, like the children we'd had a busy day, and frankly, they had tired us out. Percy had been very generous with the wine, and it would have been ungrateful to leave any bottle unemptied. The supper - inevitably a cold turkey and salad buffet - turned into a gentle, convivial party that went on late, and frankly we all drank too much, particularly Vickie, who is rather petite and so the wine went further with her. Christmas is a time to unwind, and we unwound. We looked in to the nursery just before midnight, but spared them the indignity of a nappy check; they were well padded-out and should easily make it through the night, and Matt and I retired to practice various bodily functions of our own. I think it was this that prevented the usual side effect that wine has on me; I think I had to get up three times to go to the loo. Unfortunately, the following morning it all caught up with me, and I woke late with a hangover. It was nearly nine o'clock when I staggered grumping into the nursery, and I was not looking forward to changing a couple of well-soaked nappies. The scene that presented itself was altogether a surprise. Young Nick was tucked up in the middle of the king-size bed with Sally and Caroline were either side of him. He was grinning from ear to ear, and I couldn't blame him. Caroline explained that he had woken up wet and cold in the small hours, and they had changed him themselves after which they had taken pity on him, and brought him into the bed between them. It was safe because he was nappied just like them. I took a long cool look at Nick, but said nothing. This lad was growing up all too fast. There was a movement behind me; I glanced back to see that Vickie had entered the room. She looked even worse than I did, and when she took in the scene it was plain to see that, like her namesake, she was Not Amused; Caroline and Nick both quailed before her glare. Orders were snapped. Nick jumped off the bed, and Caroline was told to divest herself of her nappy and to clean herself up. Caroline protested that she had had a dry night, and pulled down her plastic pants to prove it. Vickie stopped dead for a moment, and then she just said "No Matter... Get on with it!" Quietly, and being careful not to upset the seething monster that Vickie had become, I got on with stripping my two little minxes and shooing them into the bathroom to take their place in the queue for cleaning up. Sally remained quietly in the corner, avoiding eye contact, her own nappy was already in the pail and there was no way of telling if she had needed it. Caroline emerged to find that Vickie's bad temper had not ameliorated, and she was promptly directed to lie down on the disposable which Vickie had placed on her bed. Her protest that she didn't need one because she had been dry last night went unheeded, and her further protest that they were leaving Pembroke today was brusquely over-ruled by Vickie on the grounds that they were going to Simon's parents' farm at Evesham, and that was a nappy trip. Vickie went on to tell her that she was back in nappies during the day; there were to be no accidents while she was there. This was a touchy matter. In the tradition and common law of the family, Caroline should have been praised and congratulated for her dry night, and being allowed to go nappy-free would have been a part of that, but something had really got Vickie's goat. Then Simon spoke quietly from the doorway. "Carol, did you say you were dry last night?" Caroline, almost in tears, insisted that she had been. She had got up, used the toilet, and refastened her nappy as per Standing Orders. Simon smiled and congratulated her, whereupon she ran to him and threw her arms around his waist. Vickie stared angrily at him, and Simon tapped the side of his nose and said, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive others?" Gradually Vickie relented, and folded up the disposable nappy. Simon gave Caroline a hug and a kiss and then released her. I took advantage of Vickie's robust offensive to get my own two changed and dressed. Once back home we could revert to the normal custom of pants and regular toilet visits. We saw Vickie and Simon off after breakfast, and then returned to the nursery to pack the children's things, including a load of presents, and to help Claire by stripping the beds. The washing machine would be earning its keep this morning and, if the weather stayed dry, the washing line would have a full load of sheets and nappies by this afternoon. I remarked to Claire that the waterproof mattress covers had been a very wise precaution and she quietly remarked that in Vickie's case, it had been a necessary one. That explained Vickie's filthy temper, and Simon's silence at breakfast. I nodded. Claire said she was very familiar with the family weakness, and saw waterproof mattress covers as a sound precaution. "That's why I put one on your bed, too." she said. I just nodded again. I don't know whose idea it was to take the children to midnight service , let alone to do it on foot, but as we walked back up the lane to Pembroke House in the bitter cold, I was thinking it had been a silly one. Sally was distinctly miserable. She had had a little accident in the church, the first for weeks, although she had been officially dry for some months. She was not only suffering from wet tights, but also from the intense humiliation of an accident she could have avoided. The other three girls, my Kate and Liz, and Vickie's Caroline were all sensibly nappied under their winter coats, promised "free ones" in exchange for their consent, and could still be cheerful whether they had used them or not; they were still warm under their tights and would face no recriminations for having wet their nappies. That was what "free ones" were about. All of us knew about having a weak bladder, the few seconds of notice followed by the irresistible pressure, the dash to find a toilet - and finding it already occupied. We all knew the pleasure in being able to let it go in the sure and certain knowledge that there was a nappy there to catch it. We all knew the pride there was in being able to hold it long enough to qualify as a member of the rest of the human race. Sally had been thrilled to become dry, and the other children, particularly Caroline, had been very envious; it had been much used as propaganda by Vickie and me in our ceaseless attempts to toilet train our daughters. Now it was all back to Square One. The girls huddled in a defensive group as we marched home. The boys were running riot, making the most of the snow and ice, and Vickie's seven-year-old son Nick had fallen back to write his name in yellow in a snowdrift while the rest of us tried to ignore him. Caroline started to scold him, but her merely replied that he did not have to wear nappies like she did. This gross breach of etiquette, to mention the girls nappies, was swiftly punished by scolding from all quarters, and it was a very chastened Nick who ran back to the group, taking care to stay out of reach of the girls. By the time we got to Pembroke, the children were all shivering, and it was obviously essential go get them into warm beds as quickly as possible. They had all bathed or showered earlier so it was just a matter of changing the girls and calming down the boys. Pembroke was packed out, as was the nursery, which had long been converted into a rather splendid bedroom for visitors with a king-size bed (the changing table had become a well-stocked bar until it had been converted back again into a single bed by the addition of a mattress, and the shelves restocked with nappies). Woe betide the child who fell out of that! A second double bed had been found from somewhere. The plan had been to give the girls a sleepover, a privilege they very rarely enjoyed because of their need to wear nappies to bed every night. It was too much to ask of a host, and too humiliating for the child, so sleepovers took place in the family where everybody understood and accepted the problem. The children were herded up to bed, the girls in the nursery with Caroline's little brother Nick, and the teenagers to their rooms in the old laundry, which had been converted into staff quarters some time ago, where their rollicking could continue without disturbing the adults. We were all tired, and teamwork was obviously needed to change the little children and bed them down. I had brought the bag of nappies that Juliet had given me, as I knew that Aunt Claire was very keen on conservation of resources and disapproved of disposable nappies. The girls had groaned when they saw me do this, as they were none too keen on cloth. Juliet took the lead stripping Sally down and directing her to the bathroom to wash herself and make precautionary use of the facilities. While she was doing so we formed a production line, and ordered the children to strip. Wet nappies were removed (no questions asked), and Vicky passed out wipes to those who needed them, and wiped those who were tardy in using them. Juliet and I knelt facing each other beside the changing table, and I laid out the first nappy, Juliet added a folded baby nappy as a booster (we expected a very wet night after all the food and drink the girls had consumed), sprinkled powder on top, and invited Liz to step forward. Obediently she placed her feet either side of the nappy, Juliet and I took hold of the corners and lifted it up between her legs and pinned it snugly around her waist. Then she stepped forward again to where Holly was waiting with the plastic pants, put her feet carefully though the proffered holes, and Holly pulled the pants up over her nappy and neatly tucked in any surplus. Finally she stepped forward once again to where Aunt Claire was waiting with her footed sleeper held open and ready. By this time Kate was already pinned into her night-nappies, and Vickie was finishing Caroline's wipe down. Kate stepped forward to where Holly was waiting with her pants, and Juliet took another nappy from the pile. I folded a baby nappy inside it, Juliet sprinkled the powder , and Caroline stepped forward and placed her feet either side. Two more pins secured her for a night of serious wetting, and she stepped forward into a rather large pair of baby pants held in Holly's capable hands. Juliet and I both leaned back. It had taken less than five minutes to double-nappy three girls. Then, to our surprise, Sally stepped forward; hands clenched nervously, eyes downcast, smiling sheepishly. I looked at Juliet. Juliet looked at me. We hadn't planned on Sally; she was after all, officially dry, and an occasional accident could be ignored, but this was Christmas Day, it was Pembroke, and she was sleeping in a nursery with three other girls who were thickly nappied and expected to wet themselves copiously. She had a case, and in the custom of the family it had to be allowed. Juliet shrugged. I shrugged. Vickie shrugged, and wiped Sally down carefully with a handful of baby wipes. I took one of the large nappies from the shelf, Juliet folded an ordinary baby nappy as a booster, and then, quite unnecessarily I thought, added a length of paper liner - ostensibly it was to act as a one-way layer to make it more comfortable, but it also underlined Juliet's anger at Sally's having had an accident in church, implying that she might have a more serious accident during the night. Sally accepted the implied rebuke with good grace and stepped forward astride the unusually thick nappy. Juliet and I slowly and carefully hoisted it up between her legs, taking care to keep it all in place until the paper liner rustled as the nappies closed around her loins. We pinned the bulky garment carefully around her waist, and she murmured a word of thanks as she stepped forward to where her big sister was holding a large pair of white baby pants open for her. She placed her hands on Holly's shoulders as she stepped carefully into the pants, and Holly drew them slowly up her legs and over her bulky nappy. Sally reached down and ran her hands over the old familiar feel of the plastic pants as Holly ran her fingers around the leg elastics and pushed them up into the nappy. This was no night to have a leak and a wet patch in the bed she was sharing with Caroline. Holly gave her sister a hug and a kiss, then passed her on to where Claire was waiting with a sleeper held open and ready. Juliet pulled the zip up and gave her daughter a hug, forgiving her for her transgression, and burying the incident. Nick just sniggered until he was silenced by the glares of every woman in the room. I was left wondering if Sally's self-imposed penance was because she wished to express contrition for her accident, or whether she wished to avoid a repetition, or just avoid some punishment, or finally, in my oddly distorted mind, whether she missed the comfort and security of being nappied, no longer having to sleep with one eye open keeping watch on her treacherous bladder. I decided to postpone judgement; the morning would show her to be wet or dry, and we should take it from there. Once she had been zipped into her sleeper Sally appeared to take no further interest in her nappies and gladly climbed into the king-size bed beside Caroline, a child with whom she had shared much of her early childhood, and the two of them snuggled up together, long hair mingling on the pillows, one dark and one fair. I realised then that solidarity with her cousin was a major factor; the coolness that had been between them seemed to have evaporated and they were friends again. Juliet tucked them in, and tucked Nick in - again - before putting the light out and almost, but not quite, closing the nursery door. I curled up close to Matt that night. All the children enjoying Christmas had made me quite broody, and I was turning over the possibilities of having another child. My modelling career was gently receding and being replaced by celebrity appearances and goodwill work. I had the time, and I had the stability to make a nest. The following morning was quiet by our normal Christmas standards. The adults surfaced with the grudging arrival of the daylight, and I walked softly down the corridor to the nursery to investigate the suspicious lack of noise. I opened the door to an idyllic scene of industrious play; the stockings, which had been hung on the bottom of each bed, were being emptied of their contents by happy contented children who were playing cooperatively and peacefully. It couldn't last. Vickie had beaten me to it, and Caroline was being dressed for the day. I took the cue from her squared off backside under the tights which showed she had been changed into a disposable; Vickie was taking no chances with the amount of food and drink which was going to be consumed amid soft furnishings and expensive carpets, and Pembroke Rules were being applied. The girls would be nappied all day long, and changed without blame or rancour when the need arose. I turned my attention to my own two, who were playing out some vital drama with the small dolls that we had put in their stockings. I didn't need to ask if they were wet, it was a given - their nappies were sagging even under their sleepers. I asked if they would like to be changed but got a negative response, so I left it for a moment. Sally was playing with Nick, reading to him from a story-book and I went over and wished her a good morning, She smiled and replied similarly. I quietly raised the question of her dryness - it was evident she had made no attempt to remove her sleeper, and she replied that she was just a little bit wet. I offered to help her change but she declined saying she would wait for Mum. I was quite relieved; the question as to whether she would be changed into a fresh nappy or allowed pants was thus referred to higher authority. Over long years our family had developed customs and precedents to handle our common problem. I returned to my two, who were both lying prone on the bed. The trouble with sleepers is that you cannot change the child without removing the whole sleeper, and this was compounded by the way they were lying. I applied some gentle persuasion, and managed to get a rather grumpy Liz to stand up and submit to being stripped of her sleeper and very wet nappies. She started to shiver as the cold air hit her wet bottom, and I suspect she was putting it on; the nursery was even warmer than usual owing to the heating being turned up and the close pack of people inside. I got her to wipe herself down while I unfolded a fresh nappy for her. She made no objection when I sat her down on top of it, and was obviously keen to get a dry nappy on and be allowed to get on with her game, so it was accomplished swiftly and the tapes rubbed down. I slipped a top on her, and left her to sort out her tights while I turned my attention to Kate, who was equally grumpy. A little more persuasion got her night-nappies into the pail and a smaller, thinner disposable around her loins. I left her to complete dressing as far as she wished to go, and turned back to Sally. Juliet had arrived quietly, as usual, and was sequestered in the corner with Sally, talking softly. I didn't interrupt; they obviously wanted some privacy to discuss the matter, but I left my two playing while I went to attend to my own ablutions; I had standards that had to be kept up. I got around to talking with Juliet as we cleared the breakfast things; those children had eaten as if it was their last chance ever to have food. I asked her what she had decided to do about Sally and her nappy. She paused for a moment, and then shrugged. "She asked me if she could have another one." she replied. I posed a question with my eyebrows. "She said that the strain of keeping it in was getting too much at times, and she wanted a break from it." I hoisted my eyebrows a little further. "She said that it was hell trying to sleep with one eye open, being afraid she might need the loo at any moment. She keeps waking up and going to the toilet to make sure, and then finds it's a false alarm, but when she gets back into bed she cannot sleep - doesn't want to risk wetting the bed." I nodded. I had spent ages doing that when first I was taken out of nappies. "She says that last night was the first really good night's sleep she has had in months. Once she had wetted her nappies, she just relaxed and slept on." I didn't tell her that I often felt that way myself, but had become accustomed to the midnight trek. "She asked me if she could stay in nappies over Christmas; she said it would be so nice not to have those worries, and that the other girls would accept her again." I could see that; not only had my two been fiercely jealous of Sally, but Caroline had the dubious pleasure of sharing a bed with someone who might well wet it, and even if Caroline was well nappied there would be the suspicion that she had leaked. I glanced over to where the kids were playing happily. I couldn't see Sally's lower half from my viewpoint. "Is she wearing one now?" I asked. Juliet nodded. "Vickie gave me one of Carol's. She has plenty - she wasn't expecting Claire to put on a nappy service. I thought I would give her a break, and let her play uninterrupted with the other girls." I understood that; my own children could look after any big business that came along using the re-sealable tapes, but the understanding was that it was Christmas, and the nappies were "free ones" and they could wet them without any inquiries being made. I had already scheduled nappy changes for just before lunch and tea; I knew my girls habits very well. I managed to forecast things quite correctly. After a morning of intensive play the girls were prised lose from the accumulating pile of presents and subjected to nappy checks in the downstairs loo. Both failed, and without further ado were marched upstairs to the nursery, closely followed by Vickie and Caroline. All three were swiftly wiped and changed before their tights came up and their long dresses came down, after which they were required to be present at the formal lunch. By mid afternoon they were sleeping on one of the sofas in the back of the lounge, completely tired out. That was followed at tea time by another nappy check and change. This time we were joined by Sally, who had been snoozing in a big armchair. For once in my life I thanked God for Pembroke Rules - the fuss and bother that had been avoided by making the girls wear full-size disposables was incalculable, pull-ups would never have coped. By 8pm it all caught up with them, the late night before, and the hectic day after, and they had had enough. To be quite frank, the adults had had enough of them too, and they were politely shooed off to bath and bed. To speed the process we ran the production line again, and the girls gleefully cooperated. To our surprise, little Nick insisted in taking his place in forefront of the line, and Vickie had little choice but to agree; at seven years old she felt it wouldn't do any harm, and he would feel at one with the girls in the nursery. This caused great amusement, and my two made a great fuss of him, even though they were now just as thickly nappied themselves, and with greater intent. As I watched the well-padded bottoms waddle across the nursery, I felt a great pang of nostalgia, and I wondered what would happen if I joined the end of the queue, but then reality intruded; I was also the right-hand pin, and if I was absent the whole production line would be disrupted. We waited to see what Sally would do. Both she and Caroline came out of the bathroom together, dressed only in their bathrobes, then Caroline deferred, and let Sally go ahead into the powdering, anointing, nappying and baby-panting line. She waited at the end for Caroline to be zipped into her sleeper, then arm-in-arm they waddled off to bed together, and were tucked in, wrapped in each other's arms. The adults were now happy to relax, like the children we'd had a busy day, and frankly, they had tired us out. Percy had been very generous with the wine, and it would have been ungrateful to leave any bottle unemptied. The supper - inevitably a cold turkey and salad buffet - turned into a gentle, convivial party that went on late, and frankly we all drank too much, particularly Vickie, who is rather petite and so the wine went further with her. Christmas is a time to unwind, and we unwound. We looked in to the nursery just before midnight, but spared them the indignity of a nappy check; they were well padded-out and should easily make it through the night, and Matt and I retired to practice various bodily functions of our own. I think it was this that prevented the usual side effect that wine has on me; I think I had to get up three times to go to the loo. Unfortunately, the following morning it all caught up with me, and I woke late with a hangover. It was nearly nine o'clock when I staggered grumping into the nursery, and I was not looking forward to changing a couple of well-soaked nappies. The scene that presented itself was altogether a surprise. Young Nick was tucked up in the middle of the king-size bed with Sally and Caroline were either side of him. He was grinning from ear to ear, and I couldn't blame him. Caroline explained that he had woken up wet and cold in the small hours, and they had changed him themselves after which they had taken pity on him, and brought him into the bed between them. It was safe because he was nappied just like them. I took a long cool look at Nick, but said nothing. This lad was growing up all too fast. There was a movement behind me; I glanced back to see that Vickie had entered the room. She looked even worse than I did, and when she took in the scene it was plain to see that, like her namesake, she was Not Amused; Caroline and Nick both quailed before her glare. Orders were snapped. Nick jumped off the bed, and Caroline was told to divest herself of her nappy and to clean herself up. Caroline protested that she had had a dry night, and pulled down her plastic pants to prove it. Vickie stopped dead for a moment, and then she just said "No Matter... Get on with it!" Quietly, and being careful not to upset the seething monster that Vickie had become, I got on with stripping my two little minxes and shooing them into the bathroom to take their place in the queue for cleaning up. Sally remained quietly in the corner, avoiding eye contact, her own nappy was already in the pail and there was no way of telling if she had needed it. Caroline emerged to find that Vickie's bad temper had not ameliorated, and she was promptly directed to lie down on the disposable which Vickie had placed on her bed. Her protest that she didn't need one because she had been dry last night went unheeded, and her further protest that they were leaving Pembroke today was brusquely over-ruled by Vickie on the grounds that they were going to Simon's parents' farm at Evesham, and that was a nappy trip. Vickie went on to tell her that she was back in nappies during the day; there were to be no accidents while she was there. This was a touchy matter. In the tradition and common law of the family, Caroline should have been praised and congratulated for her dry night, and being allowed to go nappy-free would have been a part of that, but something had really got Vickie's goat. Then Simon spoke quietly from the doorway. "Carol, did you say you were dry last night?" Caroline, almost in tears, insisted that she had been. She had got up, used the toilet, and refastened her nappy as per Standing Orders. Simon smiled and congratulated her, whereupon she ran to him and threw her arms around his waist. Vickie stared angrily at him, and Simon tapped the side of his nose and said, "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive others?" Gradually Vickie relented, and folded up the disposable nappy. Simon gave Caroline a hug and a kiss and then released her. I took advantage of Vickie's robust offensive to get my own two changed and dressed. Once back home we could revert to the normal custom of pants and regular toilet visits. We saw Vickie and Simon off after breakfast, and then returned to the nursery to pack the children's things, including a load of presents, and to help Claire by stripping the beds. The washing machine would be earning its keep this morning and, if the weather stayed dry, the washing line would have a full load of sheets and nappies by this afternoon. I remarked to Claire that the waterproof mattress covers had been a very wise precaution and she quietly remarked that in Vickie's case, it had been a necessary one. That explained Vickie's filthy temper, and Simon's silence at breakfast. I nodded. Claire said she was very familiar with the family weakness, and saw waterproof mattress covers as a sound precaution. "That's why I put one on your bed, too." she said. I just nodded again.

I remember being in diapers when I was three and I loved the feeling of pooping in my diaper and being changed. I remember moving on to pull-ups. My memory is fuzzy as far as the chronology goes but I know I was in pull-ups from ages 3-5.

I like it for the sole purpose of having that accidental feeling, not much for anything else

I can remember doing a poo in my nappy when I was very young, and remember it was an enjoyable feeling. I guess that's why I like it today.

My wife could change my diaper anytime she wants. Just wish she would do it.

I always use a pad when going to bed drunk.