SissyatHeart

I'm not even sure how to respond to this, lol. Made my day. But in all seriousness, why not Polar Bears?

Chapter 12: A New Day Four. Months. Later. My eyes fluttered open and a smile crossed my face as I stretched out in the crib, suckling my pacifier as the sun coaxed me awake. The morning air had become brisk and the days ever colder as it crept towards winter. And yet, laying here in my crib, all snuggled up under my baby blanket and zipped into my footed sleeper, I felt warm and cozy. The combination of the two kept away the harsh bite of the cold. Letting out a soft sigh, I rolled over onto my side and shuffled about for a moment, making myself more comfortable as my body sank back into the mattress beneath me, relaxing, taking in the silence, the peaceful calm that came with being awake early. That deafening silence that radiated through the house. All was perfect. Everything except for one thing. And she was staring right back at me. Her blue eyes and soft smile, all highlighted by her fluffy white fur. Bella. I had lost her from my arms overnight, but that was alright. Just like myself, she was kept safe and secure by the bars of the crib. Never straying far from my side. I smiled as I reached out for her, pulling her back to my chest, tucking her back under the blanket where she belonged, cuddled against my chest with her soft fur tickling my face. Now everything was perfect. I closed my eyes, breathing easy. Just relaxing. Not thinking. Not moving. Not worrying. That was until I noticed the smell. That slight familiar stench. A mix of baby powder and poop. A messy diaper. I grimaced, feeling the sticky mess stuck against my bottom, its warm mushiness held tight against my skin by my soggy diaper. But it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't bothering me. If anything, it felt good. Not in a physical way, but rather an emotional one. It felt good to know that I didn't need to worry, felt good to know that mom would be in soon to get me from my crib, that she would change my messy diaper and take all the ickiness away. It was a comforting feeling. A peaceful feeling. And so, I pushed the thought from my mind and let my eyes drift aimlessly about the nursery as my mind wandered, relaxing back into the mattress to wait for mom. The only problem was that she didn't come. In all that waiting, not a single sound had come from the house, not a single hint of movement or life broke through the silence. It felt as though I waited for hours, stuck alone in my crib with my soiled diaper taped around me. The smell, the feel, hadn't been bothering me all that much before, but the longer I seemed to wait, the more I seemed to notice both. The smell was lingering in the air now, filling up the empty space around me, seeming to take up the entire room. And the warm mush caked against my bottom was starting to burn and irritate my skin, making me squirm and fidget in the crib. I felt uncomfortable. I felt alone. I felt helpless. And as those feelings sank in, I began to fuss and whimper. I wanted to be clean again. I wanted a fresh diaper. I wanted to be changed. I wanted my mommy. And so with tears in my eyes, I crawled out from under the security of my blanket and pulled myself up to the crib edge, still cradling Bella in one arm as I steadied myself against the crib rail with the other. I was done waiting. I wanted to be changed. And I wanted to be changed now. "Mommy!" I called, dropping the pacifier from my mouth as my tiny voice broke through the icy silence of the morning. "Mommy!" I kept calling. Kept waiting. Kept standing there. The chill of the morning air finally fighting its way through my sleeper, creeping inside and adding to my already uncomfortable state. Those tears kept building, blurring my vision. "Mommy!" I called again, louder this time, more desperate, letting my fussiness and frustration out as I yelled. I felt so alone. So cold. So uncomfortable. Those tears were spilling over now, running down my cheeks in streams. I was crying, sobbing. "Mommy... Please..." And still, I waited longer, crying harder and harder as I shook the rail, fussing and yelling and whimpering as I stood there. And then, just when I was about to give up, just when I thought no one was coming, the door creaked open and my eyes snapped to the figure slipping inside. His tired eyes meeting my tear-streaked face. "Daddy?!" I squeaked through my sobs, my voice a mixture of surprise and relief. Surprise that it was him and not mom. Relief that he was here to take care of me. But why wasn't he at work? What was he doing home? "What's the matter, pumpkin?" Dad asked, rubbing his eyes as he stood in the door. "Why are you so sad this morning? And more importantly, why so early?" He asked, chuckling as he started towards me. My pitiful whines and whimpering continued as he stepped over to the crib. "Diaper," I said, this time more pitiful than the last as I grabbed for his shirt, clinging to him, asking, no, demanding to be picked up. "Ya?" Dad asked, pulling me into a hug as he kissed the top of my head. "It's because you've got a stinky diaper, huh?" I nodded, still whimpering as I made grabby hands, fussing as I waited for him to pull me from the crib. "Ok, ok," Dad cooed, finally pulling me into his arms and settling me on his hip. "There, is that better?" He asked, rubbing my back. "Uh-huh," I said, suckling my thumb as I leaned into his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence, happy to be in his arms. He gave my bottom a knowing pat and then asked, "What do you say we get your diaper changed?" Again, I nodded, still suckling my thumb as dad carried me over to the changing table. His bouncing was squishing the mess further across my bottom, spreading it out over my diaper area, but I didn't care, in a few minutes, I would be in a fresh diaper. Dad chuckled as he laid me back on the soft changing pad. "You know mommy doesn't like it when you suck your thumb," He said, pulling the digit from my mouth. "Let's try your paci instead." I didn't fight or argue with him as he coaxed the pacifier into my mouth, but rather suckled it like a good baby as I hugged Bella, letting dad take control of the diaper change. Letting him be the parent and letting myself be the baby. The way it was mean to be. And in seconds, the button holding the sleeper's zipper in place was popped open and my skin prickled with goosebumps as the zipper was pulled down, exposing my body to the world, making me squirm and shiver at the sudden change. "I know, I know," Dad said, pulling my feet from the sleeper, rubbing my belly to settle me down as he hiked the infantile garment up and away from the changing area, leaving my dirty diaper exposed. "Just work with me for another few minutes and then we can get your jammies back on, ok pumpkin?" I nodded, still squirming in the cold as dad reached for the tapes of my diaper. I could feel his fingers pressing against me, and moments later the soft sound of velcro ripping and the strong stench of a messy diaper filled the air. "Phew," Dad said, chuckling, waving his hand in front of his nose. "You left daddy a big present this morning, didn't you?" I giggled from behind the pacifier, finding his scrunched nose and wrinkled face funny as he gathered my ankles in one hand. "Well, at least one of us finds it funny," Dad said, sticking his tongue out, teasing me, making me giggle more as he pushed my knees to my chest and exposed my bottom to the world. He used the front of the diaper to wipe off most of my bottom in one go before pulling the soiled thing out from under me. My ankles were still held in the air, and moments later the damp feel of a wet wipe followed as dad worked to wipe the rest of the sticky mess from my bottom, making sure my bottom was clean before laying me back down. A second wet wipe was used to wipe down my front side. "There we go," Dad said, pulling a fresh diaper from the drawer. "Now all we need to do is get a diaper back on your bottom." I giggled again, watching as dad fanned the diaper out. I hadn't even noticed my shift in attitude. I hadn't noticed my tears and fussiness turning to happy little giggles. But that was ok. It was ok to be upset one minute and happy the next. That was how a toddler expressed their emotions. And I was a toddler. Besides, there was a sense of calm that came with having your diaper changed. A sense of love. It was hard to explain, but there was a certain happiness that came with the knowledge that your parent was was taking care of your most intimate need. Being changed made me feel loved. Made me feel special. "What are you thinking about?" Dad asked, lifting my bottom once more to slide the fresh diaper underneath my bottom. I looked up at him smiling and kicking playfully as he reached for the baby powder, doing his best to hold me in place long enough to get a diaper back on me. "Hey, hey," Dad said, laughing, reaching for my exposed belly, "Don't make me tickle you." I knew he wasn't joking, and so I settled down, still giggling as he smoothed a fresh dusting of powder into my diaper area. The soft, powder felt good against my skin and its infantile smell helped to cover up the icky smell from my messy diaper, leaving both me and the room smelling fresh and clean. Just like a baby. And with my diaper area all powdered up, dad pulled the diaper up between my legs and taped it snug against my tummy with a practiced hand. The warmth and snug bulk of the soft padding between my legs felt good. It felt comforting. It felt safe. It always did. And as dad slid my feet back into the sleeper and zipped it back up my body, buttoning it against my chest once again, the morning affair was over. I had gotten what I had wanted. A diaper change. And I was all the happier because of it. "Now, what do you say we go and snuggle with mommy for a bit?" Dad asked, lifting me back into his arms. He gave my freshly diapered bottom a few pats as he settled me back on his hip, bouncing me as he had before. I nodded, still suckling my pacifier, still holding onto Bella as I leaned into dad, taking in his loving warmth as he carried me from the nursery. And then I had another thought, another feeling. A soft, aching pain inside my stomach. Hunger. And my thoughts shifted to mom. To her warm milk. To nursing.

Chapter 11: Surprises The. Next. Day. The thudding had stopped some time ago. And now, my ears drew to the silence, yearning for a single sound, a single hint as to what dad was doing and when he would be done. For I knew what he was working on. I knew he was putting together my nursery. And yet, I couldn't help but let myself perk up with curiosity and excitement. The last time I had seen my room... my nursery... had been yesterday. I grimaced, thinking back to the incident, back to my temper tantrum. Those few brief minutes had ruined weeks of trust, and yet, it had thrust our bonds closer than ever before. Somehow, in my darkest moment, I had actually found myself, had found acceptance in this whole thing. I had found what made me happy and realized that what I wanted wasn't actually what I thought I wanted. I had just refused to look at it, had refused to accept it for what it was. I wanted to be a baby. A part of me knew that from the very beginning. I had even admitted it to myself before. But it wasn't until now that I truly believed that. It wasn't until now that I accepted it. "What are you thinking about, sweetheart?" Mom asked, looking up from her book. It was the same one she had been reading yesterday. "My nursery," I said, glancing up at her, searching for a hint in her eyes, for some kind of answer of when dad would be done. I was growing antsier by the minute. That need to know, that need to see growing ever stronger, and I ever more impatient. Mom nodded, sighing as she set her book off to the side. "I know, you want to go see it, don't you?" I nodded, turning back to my dollhouse, trying to distract myself with the toys, something that wasn't working. There was too much to think about, too much to worry about. I couldn't let go, couldn't let myself enter that toddler headspace, that place where I was truly happy. Not with that feeling of excitement in my stomach, that tingling anxiousness radiating throughout my body. I needed mom. Needed her comfort. Needed her to play with me. Mommy?" I asked, setting my dolls down. "Can you play with me?" Mom smiled. "Ya, I can play," She said, moving to sit down next to me. "Who do I get to play with?" I looked over the dolls laying about and picked the one I wanted mom to have. She was smaller than the others, her blonde hair and blue eyes staring up from where she laid. She reminded me of me. And that for some reason warranted mom having her, protecting her. "This one," I said, handing her the doll. "She's very pretty," Mom said, looking over the doll, and then she laughed, "Although I think she needs some clothes." And indeed she did. Barbie was streaking about in her birthday suit, naked as the day she came into the world. I laughed too, giggling as I crawled around to the other side, looking for a couple of outfits. "That's because you have to dress her, mommy." "Oh, do I?" Mom asked, her laughing turning to chuckles as she watched me play. I nodded. "Ya, we're going to have a fashion show." "A fashion show?" Mom asked, her voice feigning excitement and surprise, and yet there was something genuine there. Not excitement at playing Barbie, but a sense of joy at spending time with me. "That sounds like fun." I giggled crawling back from the other side of the dollhouse, handing mom a series of outfits to choose from. And I grabbed my own doll, working to change her outfit, trying to get her ready for our upcoming show. There was so much to do in so little time. Our Barbies still needed to be dressed and have their hair combed out. And then there was the matter of photoshoots and interviews before the actual show happened. And then... "Mommy, we need people to watch," I said, my eyes going wide with the realization. "And we don't have a stage." "Well then," Mom said, setting her Barbie down, "I guess we'll have to do something about that, huh?" I nodded, already clambering to my feet, searching for any other toys that we could use. My imagination was working at full speed now. That big girl mind that always got in the way, that always resisted having fun was shrinking away, letting my toddler self shine, letting the joy of childhood flow through my body. It felt good. It felt right. Playing felt right. "Why don't we use a shoebox for a stage," Mom said, she herself standing up, smiling as I ran about the living room, collecting toys in my arms. "Ok," I said, "But we need to hurry or we're going to be late." Mom chuckled. "Alright, I'll hurry." Minutes later the stage was set and the audience was waiting, hushed murmurs of conversation rang throughout the crowd, all were waiting, all were anticipating the show. After all, it was the best fashion show in all of ToyTopia, the land of all toys. Mom and I were backstage, doing the last minute prep and getting Casey and Cara ready for the show. They were nervous, but a pep talk from mom helped take the butterflies away. They were ready. And just in the nick of time. The lights in the room dimmed, the spotlights came on. It was showtime. The curtains parted, Casey went first. She walked confidently, sporting a cute blue dress and black purse. Her hat completed the outfit, taking it from good to stunning. She was a hit! And then her walk was over. It was time for Cara. She started to walk. Her own step showing... "What are you two girls doing?" "Daddy!" I dropped the Barbie doll, jumping to my feet and then again into dad's arms, letting him lift me up and plant a kiss on my cheek. Happy giggles escaped my lips. "We were playing." "We were having a fashion show," Mom said, standing from where she had been sitting, "And it was Cara's turn to walk the stage." "Well, tell her I'm sorry to have interrupted," Dad said, giving my bottom a pat before setting me back on my feet. "And you made poor Mr. Bear watch. I giggled, looking over at the raggedy old thing. He had seen far worse in his lifetime. His missing eye was his battle scar to prove it. "He was the one who set it up." "Oh, was he?" Dad asked, ruffling my hair. "mmm-hmm," I nodded. "Well, how about we go see what I just finished setting up," Dad said. I gasped, my eyes going wide at his comment. "My nursery?" Dad nodded. "Mommy, can we go see it, can we go see it, please?" I begged, reaching up to mom, my eyes pleaded with her, my babyish tone playing at her emotions. Mom nodded, and I was already halfway to the stairs, running through the house as fast as my legs could carry me, a fresh excitement coursing through my body. A mix of fear and anxiety, excitement and curiosity. "Emily, slow down, sweetheart," Mom said, both her and dad following behind me, "You need to hold one of our hands going up the stairs. "Ok," I said, waiting at the bottom of the stairs, the baby gate was still there, still teasing me with its infantile barrier. But I didn't care, all I could do was bounce with excitement as I waited, and as soon as dad was there I took his hand, letting him open the gate and lead me up the stairs. My excitement, that nauseous curiosity in my stomach, grew with each step as our footfalls echoed on the wood of the steps. And soon the echo of wood turned to the soft silence of carpet as we started down the hallway, coming closer to my room, to my nursery. And suddenly that giddy excitement was gone. That bubbling happiness was gone. All that was left was a pit of anxiousness and fear in my stomach. A knot that twisted and tangled, contorting itself inside of me, twisting my emotions. I squeezed dad's hand tighter. What if I didn't like it? What if I wanted to be a big girl again? What if I missed my old bedroom. What if... "You're ok, pumpkin," Dad whispered. He knelt down in front of me and opened his arms, welcoming me into his warm embrace. "Daddy, I'm scared," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms closed around me, squeezing me, comforting me. "I know, I know," He said, his voice still a whisper. He let up on the hug, rubbing my back as he kissed my forehead. "It's ok to be scared." There was a pause, a moment of silence before he spoke again. "Remember what mommy told you yesterday? Remember how she told you that all things are scary at first?" I nodded. I did remember what she said. And she was right. Everything that had happened over this past month had been scary at first. It was a road paved with tears, and yet at the end, only happiness had ever come through. It was a pattern, one that I seemed destined to repeat. I always resisted, I always fought, I was always scared. And then I was happy. I had been wrong every time. Mom and dad had been right every time. And this time would be no different. I let my eyes wander past dad, searching for mom, for her comforting encouragement. But she wasn't there. A slight panic started to swell inside of me. Where was she? Why wasn't she here. I let a whine escape my lips, pitiful and scared. "Hey, what's the matter, pumpkin," Dad cooed, rubbing my back again. "Where's mommy?" I asked, starting to squirm, starting to grow impatient, upset. Dad chuckled a bit, caressing my head as he pulled me into another hug, holding me there as he kissed the top of my head, loving on me. "Mommy went to go grab something for you." "What is it?" "You'll see in a few minutes," Dad said, freeing me from his arms, "But right now why don't we go see your room?" I nodded, turning to face the door, taking a deep breath as I braced myself for the whirlwind of emotions I was expecting to feel. "Daddy, will you hold my hand?" "Of course, pumpkin." With my hand in dad's, I stepped forward again, walking right up to my door, right up to the sign that now thing there. 'Emily's Nursery' It red in pink block letters. I smiled at the cute decoration, at having my own space again. It helped to ease my anxiousness as dad pushed the door open, giving way to what was once my bedroom. I gasped, my eyes taking in every detail of the room as I stood there in shocked silence, admiring the beauty of the nursery. The gray walls contrasted beautifully with the mix of pink and white dotted around the room. I gasped, my eyes taking in every detail of the room as I stood there in shocked silence, admiring the beauty of the nursery. The gray walls contrasted beautifully with the mix of white and pink dotted around the room. My crib was up against the far wall where my bed had once been. My name was hanging over the crib in pink letters and I could see my blanket and pillow through the bars of the crib. The familiarity of the crib let me breathe, let me relax as I took in more of the room. To the left of the crib on the interior wall where my dresser had once been was the changing table dad had been working on, my changing table. On top was the pink changing pad from mom and dad's room, yet another item of familiarity, something I was comfortable with. And then right across from me, nestled in the corner of the room, was mom's rocking chair. It was all so different and yet so familiar. The crib, the changing table, the rocking chair. They were all so familiar, and yet, all of them being here in my room, in my nursery, gave them new meaning. I felt comfortable and calm, happy. It was very thing I had been worried about, the very think I had had a temper tantrum over. Something that seemed so silly now. None of those thoughts or feelings had been warranted. None of the fear and hesitation. None of that worry that I would forget who I was. Mom and dad had been right. "Do you like it?" Mom asked. I turned to see mom standing at the door, smiling as she looked down at me. "Mommy!" I squeaked, running to her, wrapping my arms around her as she knelt down to meet me. "I'll take that as a yes then," Mom laughed. I nodded. "It's pretty," I said, releasing her neck. It was then I noticed the package behind her. It's bright pink wrapping paper screaming for my attention. "What's that?" I asked pointing to the box. "This," Mom said, reaching behind to grab the box, "Is a gift for you." "For me?" I asked, gazing up at both mom and dad, making them both laugh with the question. "Yes, pumpkin, for you," Dad said, following mom into the room as she set the box down in front of me. "I told you mommy had to go grab something." "But it's not my birthday," I said, my eyes taking in the detail of the pink paper. It was clearly meant for a baby girl. Images of onesies and baby bottles and diapers were dotted across the paper. "Consider it a baby shower gift," Mom said, pushing the box closer to me, both her and dad waiting for my fingers to tear through the wrapping paper. "It's just a little something to make this transition a little easier." My heart fluttered and a smile crossed my face as I ran my hands over the smooth paper, searching for a crease. And as soon as my finger caught on one, I pulled on it. Ripping noises sounded through the room as I tore away the wrapping, my mind swimming with the imagination of a child on Christmas morning. Awe and excitement filling my body as I worked at the top of the box, pulling it off to reveal more paper inside. It too was pink. I went to pull it away and then stopped, looking up once more for encouragement. "Go ahead, pumpkin," Dad said, "Open it." And I did. I pulled the remaining paper away, revealing the gift beneath. Pastel pink radiated up from the box. I reached down to run my hand across the material, smiling as I did so. It was soft and fluffy like a kitten's fur, and my name was embroidered in the corner with a bright red heart. It was a blanket. A baby blanket. I pulled it from the box, squeezing it in my arms, letting the softness rub over my face. It was perfect. And it was mine. "Keep going, sweetheart, there's something else in there," Mom said. With heavy reluctance, I set the blanket down and reached back to the box, back to the second layer of pink paper. I pulled it away with ease and gasped at the sight, my heart skipping a beat as I squealed with joy. Snow white fur and ocean blue eyes stared up at me. Its black nose was dark as coal, its smile warm and inviting. A teddy bear. I pulled it too from the box, hugging it against my chest, rocking with it in my arms. It too was soft and the fur tickled my skin as I held it there. "Do you like it?" Mom asked. "Her," I said, already having decided. There were tears in my eyes. Tears of happiness and joy. "Her name is Bella, and I love her." ********** I yawned, snuggling further into dad's side with a sigh as his hand rubbed over my back. "You ready for bed, pumpkin?" I shook my head, pointing towards the TV. "Just a few more minutes, please," I begged, holding the please for extra cuteness, hoping he would let me finish the rest of Paw Patrol. He nodded. "Just until the show is over." I smiled, turning back to watch the babyish show, probably enjoying it more than I should. I yawned again, rubbing my eyes, just a few more minutes, I could do it. But it seemed the more I told myself that, the more tired I got. My eyes felt so heavy. Felt like they were burning. I just needed to rest them for a second, that's all. A feeling of relief washing over me as I did, it felt so good, so relaxing. I sighed, letting my body sink further into his side, Bella cradled against my chest. The world around me seeming to grow farther and farther away as I drifted off, nearing sleep. "Alright, I think I know a little girl who's ready for bed," Dad cooed, switching the TV off. I jumped at his voice. "No daddy," I mumbled, feigning being awake. "Just a few more minutes, please. Just until the show is over," I begged, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "You already said that pumpkin," he said, standing up, "Besides, mommy's waiting for you upstairs." "No, daddy please," I mumbled again, burying my head in the couch, "I'm not tired, really." "Uh-huh, is that so," he said, lifting me onto his hip. "Because it looked to me like you were falling asleep," he continued, patting my diapered bottom. "And somebody needs a diaper change." "Nu-um," I tried once more, wrapping my arms around his neck, taking in his smell as I laid my head against his shoulder, my thumb already nestled in my mouth. "Just like a baby," I thought. Then again, that's exactly what I was, a baby. He chuckled, pulling my thumb from my mouth, "Do you want your paci, sweetheart?" I nodded, letting him push the silicone nipple past my lips. "Definitely a baby," I thought, nursing the infantile thing, cuddling Bella as I closed my eyes again. "Now what do you say we go and get your soggy bum off to bed?" I nodded again, sighing around my pacifier as he carried me off to my nursery. My nursery. It still felt so weird to say. Finally, after a month of being treated as a toddler, I had a nursery. It was hard to believe that only a month ago it had been a regular bedroom, that I had been going to school, playing with friends, and, you know, just being a kid. And now here I am, a diaper-wearing toddler being carried off to her nursery. Something that should bother me. It would bother anyone, right? Having your entire life uprooted. Being thrown back to babyhood, back to diapers. But it doesn't bother me, it makes me happy, loved. Living every day as though I were truly a baby. It adds a certain security. A certain comfort. A certain innocence. Even now, dad's strong, yet gentle hand patting my bottom, his other arm wrapped around me, holding me close as if I was a toddler. I was a toddler. His toddler. His precious little girl and he would never let anything happen to me. It made me feel warm inside, happy. "Well hello there, sleepyhead," A new voice cooed, softer, more feminine. "Mommy?" I asked, mumbling through the pacifier, opening my eyes as I was pulled from daddy's shoulder and into mommy's arms. And then, just like before, my head nuzzled into her neck, my head resting on her shoulder, her hand rubbing my back as she cooed, bouncing slightly. "Yes baby, mommy's here," she whispered soothingly, carrying me over to the rocking chair. She sat down, still holding me tight as she hummed, playing with my hair as she rocked. As she rocked, I closed my eyes again, sighing around my pacifier as I melted into her arms. Just enjoying the moment, enjoying the comfort and warmth she brought. The safety and security. She was my mommy and I was her baby. And I never wanted that to change. "I love you so so much, sweetheart," she cooed, rubbing my back. "I love you too, mommy," I mumbled around the pacifier, "I love you lots." We stayed like that for the next few minutes. Mommy and baby, cuddled up together on the rocking chair. My eyes growing ever heavier as her rocking lulled me to sleep. "You ready to get your jammies on, sweetheart?" She asked, patting my diaper. I nodded, slipping back from the edge of sleep, opening my eyes as I lifted my head from her shoulder, my arms still wrapped tightly around her neck. "You're such a cutie," She smiled, kissing my forehead, "Mommy's precious baby girl." I giggled, half asleep, as she stood up, carrying me over to the changing table. She sat me down on the soft pad, pulling my shirt off before laying me down. I hugged Bella to my chest and focused on my pacifier as mom pulled my leggings off, leaving me in just my wet diaper. She pulled out a fresh diaper and popped open the container of wipes. The tapes of my diaper were ripped open and I shivered, the cold overtaking where it had been warm moments before. "Mommy's got a surprise for you tonight, sweetheart," she cooed, wiping my front side off, "Something a little different than your baba." I pulled my pacifier out. "Another surprise? What is it?" She smiled at me, grabbing a new wipe. "Mommy wants to try breastfeeding you tonight." My legs were lifted off the pad, the wipe running over my bottom. "Breastfeeding?" I asked, my face scrunching. She chuckled at my response. "Yes, sweetheart, breastfeeding." My legs were lowered back down onto the fresh diaper. "Like, from those?" I asked, pointing at her chest. She chuckled again, powdering my diaper area. "That's right, sweetheart, from mommy's breast. That's why it's called breastfeeding." I shook my head as the diaper was taped up. "I don't know, it seems yucky." She pulled me into a sitting position. "Breastfeeding isn't yucky, silly," she said, bopping my nose. "It's just like nursing your baba, only mommy's the baba now." "No, it isn't," I said, giggling, as she carried me over to the closet. "I don't like it." "You haven't even tried it, sweetheart," she said, grabbing a sleeper from the dresser. "You never know, you might find it's really really yummy." "Really?" I asked as she sat me down on the floor, guiding my legs into the sleeper. "Is it really yummy?" "It is. When you were a baby, I couldn't keep you off them." She said, tickling my belly. My face turned red as I kicked and squirmed under her assault. "Mommy... Mommy, stop it... I... I can't breathe." I laughed, gasping for air. Her assault eventually ended and after taking a moment to catch my breath, I looked up at her, pausing for a moment before answering, thinking. "Ok... I'll try it." "Perfect," she said with a smile, sliding my arms into the sleeper before zipping it up. "Don't worry, sweetheart, mommy promises you'll like it." I nodded, letting her pick me up, carrying me back over to the rocking chair where she sat down, coaxing me to lay back. Cradling me in her arms just like a baby, my butt nestled between her legs with my head cradled in the crook of her arm. I melted into her arms as she tucked a blanket around me, relaxing even further as I waited for her instruction. Enjoying being pampered, being babied. It was part of my bedtime routine. I was always bottle-fed before bed. A warm bottle of formula to help me sleep. It made sure I awoke the next morning with a wet diaper. Something meant to make me feel like a baby. And it did. That feeling of helplessness every morning, waiting for mommy or daddy to come and get me, to check my diaper, to change me, like some helpless toddler. But that was the point. I wasn't a big girl anymore; I was a baby girl. Mommy and daddy's baby girl. And they made sure I knew that. "Alright, sweetheart, are you ready?" She asked, running her fingers through my hair, brushing it from my face. I nodded, watching as she pulled the side of her bathrobe away, revealing her naked breast. I squirmed at the sight, unsure of what to make of it as she pulled me closer. It looked so big, so swollen, almost like it was full. Her pink nipple standing erect as though it were waiting for something, for someone. It reminded me of the nipple on my baba. A thought that brought me comfort. "It's just like your baba sweetie," she said, taking hold of her breast. "Just open your mouth and when mommy tells you to, latch on. That's all you have to do; mommy will take care of the rest." "Mommy wait!" I begged, turning my head to avoid the nipple. It was all happening so fast, so soon. I needed more time to think. "I... I don't know if I want to." "Shh, it's alright, sweetheart, just relax, let mommy take care of you," she cooed, rocking me, soothing me as though I was just a little baby. I turned my head back towards her, looking up with an infant's fascination, that look of wonder and expectation. Expectation that she would take care of me, soothe me. I felt so little, so helpless in her arms. I felt like a baby. "Just relax, sweetheart," she cooed, smiling down at me. So, I did. I relaxed, falling victim to my heavy eyes once again as she rocked, lulling me to sleep as she hummed, singing me nursery rhymes. My eyes never leaving her nipple. I was so fascinated by it. It was so hypnotic. I closed my eyes for just a moment. I just needed to rest them. "That's it, just relax, sweetheart." I felt something warm and soft touch my lips, teasing back and forth as though it were begging to be let in. I opened my eyes, groggy with sleep. Her nipple was inches from my lips. I tried again to turn my head away, but she kept me firmly cradled in her lap. Just like a baby, so little, so helpless. "It's alright, sweetheart, just relax, open your mouth." So, I did. I parted my lips just slightly, letting just the nub fill my mouth. Out of instinct, I took a tentative suckle before pulling back, my eyes going wide as a jet of milk streamed over my tongue, filling my taste buds. It tasted similar to formula: thick, sweet, and creamy. Only it was richer, tasted sweeter, creamier. It soothed my throat as it trickled down into my stomach, warming my insides. It triggered something primitive inside me, something subconscious. My eyes narrowed, focused on only one thing, nursing, the world around me seeming to disappear as though it never existed. I opened my mouth again, letting her slip her nipple in, clamping down with a proper latch. I suckled again, sinking into her arms as my body went limp. I was nursing. Nursing at my mother's breast like an infant. "That's a good girl," she cooed, patting my bottom, "such a good baby." My eyes drifted up past her breast, meeting with hers. She smiled down at me. Her eyes sparkling with motherly love, with pride and joy. The moment seemed so surreal. So impossible. A month ago, I would have been texting my friends, talking about some cute boy. And now, now I was laying cradled in my mother's lap, her hand patting my diapered bottom as I nursed from her breast. Just yesterday I had yelled and screamed and broken their trust. Just the other day I had fought against the idea of losing my big girl self, of falling into the mindset of a toddler. I had thought I didn't want it. I had thought that I wanted to grow up again, that I wanted to be a big girl again. And now, I knew that wasn't the case. I knew what I wanted. And I wanted to be a baby. I wanted to be a toddler. I wanted to be loved and cared for. I wanted ever need and want to be taken care of. I wanted this. I wanted this feeling. And so, as I laid there nursing, I let myself forget all that had happened. I let myself forget who I had been. I let myself leave that big girl behind and become a toddler. I had finally made up my mind. And I was never going to look back.

Chapter 10: Emotions "Emily..." It was a soft, cooing voice, "Emily, come on, baby, it's time to wake up." I groaned, curling up tighter, snuggling further under the warmth of my blanket, refusing to open my eyes as a warm hand rubbed over my back, coaxing me to wake. "Emily," The voice cooed again, it was mom, "Can you wake up for me, sweetheart?" I smiled at her voice, at how soft and soothing it was, at how loving it was. My eyes fluttered open as the pacifier was pulled from my mouth, and I blinked, rubbing the drowsiness of sleep from my eyes as a nipple teased against my lips, slipping inside. I stretched for a moment, suckling on the warm teat, pulling the sweet, creamy formula from the nipple as I settled back down, taking hold of the warm baby bottle with my hands. "There we go, sweetheart," Mom whispered, running her fingers through my hair, Such a good girl." I nursed from the bottle, enjoying the warmth of the formula, that sweetness, as I let myself drift back into the dreamy peace and calm, that state between the conscious and the unconscious world. It was a good feeling, a happy feeling. "Can you open your eyes for me, sweetheart?" Mom asked, her fingers still running through my hair, her warm hand still caressing my head as I nursed, "Can you show mommy those pretty blue eyes of yours?" I waited, lingering in that quiet calm, in that peacefulness for a moment before letting my eyes flutter open again, this time with a sigh of content as my eyes greeting the morning light. I kept suckling, kept nursing at the baby bottle as I gazed u at mom with sleepy eyes, letting a small smile form behind the milky nipple. "Well, there you are, sleepyhead," Mom cooed, her own smile meeting mine, showering me with motherly love and affection, "I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away, sweetheart." I groaned, still waking up as my eyes peered past the crib bars to the room around me. My room. My nursery. Those gray walls, so light and airy, highlighting the changing table on the other side of the room, that pink pad standing out on top, and then the rocking chair, tucked into the corner by the window. It made me relax, made me feel safe and loved, comforted, and adored. My attention, my smile was brought back to mom as her hand cupped my diaper, squeezing it through my sleeper. "Someones a little wet this morning," Mom cooed, rubbing my belly, "But a diaper change can wait until we finish your baba." I suckled again at the teat of the bottle as mom pulled me from the crib, settling me on her hip as she bounced, cooing and kissing me as carried me over to the rocking chair, sitting down with me settled across her lap, cradling me. And as she started to rock and hum, I sank back into her arms, letting her take the bottle from me, letting her hold it for me. And with the nipple nestled between my lips, pulled tight against the roof of my mouth, my tongue gumming at the bottom of it, I suckled, I nursed, drinking down the warm formula as we locked eyes. Mother and daughter. Mommy and baby. "Emily," Mom said, that smile still settled on her face, "It's time to wake up, sweetheart." I frowned from behind the nipple as I continued suckling. Wake up? I was already awake. I brushed it off, nursing, grimacing at the dryness in my throat. It felt hoarse, sore even. "Emily," Mom said, shaking me now, gentle and yet jarring, "Can you wake up for me, sweetheart?" I whimpered, still nursing, that feeling of soreness spreading to my face. Making my skin feel tight and sticky and raw, the way one feels after a day at the beach. It was uncomfortable, it was irritating. "You've been sleeping all afternoon, sweetheart," Mom said, shaking me again, harder this time, and yet still gentle. "You got to wake up, baby." All afternoon. But it was morning? I was confused and my whimpers grew with these interruptions. And then that image, that moment with mom, being cradled in my nursery, nursing as she bottle-fed me, started to fade, turning to an inky blackness as everything disappeared. And then that nipple was pulled from my mouth and my eyes shot open, greeting a new world, one that was bathed in the darkness of night. My eyes went wide, tears streamed down my cheek as I sat up in the crib. I was still in mom and dad's room, still in my crib there. "Are you ok, sweetheart?" Mom asked, rubbing my back as the weight of sleep left my body, as that dream floated into oblivion, leaving me with the harshness of reality. I nodded, letting her lift me from the crib and into her arms, brushing my matted hair out of my face. She started to move and I whined, reaching back towards the crib, back to where my pacifier laid, needing its soothing comfort. "Shh, it's alright," Mom cooed, bending over to grab the pacifier from my crib, slipping it back into my mouth where it belonged. I suckled hard on it, letting it calm my nerves as I laid my head against mom's shoulder, feeling so exhausted. That soreness still in my throat, that tightness still on my face, and confusion clouding my mind. "You must have been tired after all those tears," Mom said, rubbing my back as she bounced, me carrying me over to the rocking chair. All those tears. What did she mean by that? I kept thinking, kept waking up as she sat down, adjusting me on her lap so that my head was laying against her chest, her arms wrapped around me, holding me close. And then it clicked. All those tears. It came rushing back to me. All those tears. I remembered. My face was sticky and raw from crying. No. Not crying. Sobbing. Wailing. I remembered. It was a moment of realization that unleashed a cascade of memories. I remembered. It played over and over again in my head on a loop, like a nightmare that wouldn't end, only there was no escape from it, there was no waking up and forgetting about it. I remembered sneaking upstairs seeing my room. I remembered yelling and screaming and locking myself in the bathroom. I remembered taking my diaper off and using the big girl potty. I remembered being spanked and crying to sleep. I remembered mom saying something to me. A single word that was ingrained in memory. disappointed. It burned deep, piercing my soul, leaving a hole that needed mending. "Why are you crying, sweetheart?" Mom asked, rubbing my back. "Why are you so sad?" I reached up to rub the fresh tears from my face. I hadn't even realized I had been crying, hadn't realized that those tears had already made a wet patch on mom's shirt. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Mom asked, running her fingers through my hair. "Are you ok?" I nodded, telling myself that it was all going to be ok, telling myself that everything was going to be just fine. But those tears said otherwise. My heavy, quick breathing, my shuddering, said otherwise. And even as I choked back those tears, even as I willed those emotions away, even as I willed all those awful memories and thoughts away, that sob still formed. That painful lump in my chest. And the harder I tried to keep it at bay, the larger it got and the harder it fought to claw its way from my body, forcing itself out. And as that pain finally escaped, as my pacifier fell from my mouth, I started to cry. No. Scratch that. I started to sob. Right in mom's arms. Right into her chest. It hurt. Everything hurt. "Hey, shh, shh, it's ok, baby, it's alright," Mom tried soothing, rocking me, trying to calm me down, trying to quiet my sobs. "Everythings alright, it's ok, sweetheart, you're ok." But her words didn't make it alright, didn't soothe the aching pain radiating deep from within my body, that dreaded feeling of pure agony at the memory of what I had done, at the trust I had destroyed. That stupid, stupid mistake. And as I sobbed, her warm arms held me close, her loving voice soothed me, her gentle rocks comforted me, her steady heartbeat calmed me. It made it known that I was loved, that she love me. And yet I couldn't help but feel as though it was that first day, that first time that she had calmed my sobs and tears. Only now I was crying for a different reason. "Why don't we try a pacifier?" Mom asked, holding the thing up to my mouth. But I refused, turning my head to avoid the nipple as my sobs intensified, hitting full force as I lost myself in a storm of tears and snot. And as mom kept soothing, kept cooing, kept trying to calm me down, her voice was drowned out by my own sorrow as everything around me seemed to melt away, leaving me barren and alone with only my own suffering to keep my company, with only my own tears to listen to me. And I cried. And I cried. And I cried. I cried harder than I ever had before. The confusion of it all became fuel for the fire, the twisting and winding thoughts jostling about my head, pulling me in each and every direction. The scariness of letting go, the joy of being cared for. The idea of having a nursery, that fear, coupled with the pleasant dream of having one. It all jumbled together in my head, melting together like crayon wax, all those beautiful, clear colors turning to one ugly, confusing mess. When the pacifier was teased against my lips a second time, I let it in, pulling the shield tight against my lips, suckling on it, working it as I breathed out, sighing, still shuddering as the last of my emotions trickled from my body. It was unknown how much time had passed, unknown how long I had cried. Only mom's drenched shirt and my own drenched onesie bore any indication of the duration of my fit. "That's it, sweetheart," Mom cooed, her hand rubbing over my back, slow and soothing, comforting, "That's it, baby, you're ok." It was the first words that had made it through to my mind. And as mom continued to coo, rocking and rubbing my back, my tears slowly dried up. Only the occasional sniffle sounded from my body as I cuddled against mom's chest, needing her, needing to know that she still loved me, that she still cared about me. Needing to know that everything was going to be ok. "Do you want to talk about it?" Mom asked, planting a kiss on my head, rubbing my back as she coaxed me from her chest. She used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away the last of my tears, leaving only my red eyes and puffy face. I nodded, thinking, letting all those thoughts flood through my brain, trying to wade through them, trying to figure out how I felt, trying to figure out where to start, how to explain. And hen that word was there again. That one word. Disappointed. That one word that burned so deep. "Mommy?" I asked. "Yes, sweetheart?" "Are you mad at me?" "No," Mom said, running her fingers through my hair as she held me close, kissing the top of my head. "I'm not mad at you sweetheart. Why would you think I was?" "Because of what you said." Mom seemed to stiffen at that, like her body was repulsed at the idea that she could have hurt me, that she could have said something to hurt me. "What did I say?" Mom asked, her voice soft, worried. "That you were disappointed in me." Mom sighed, letting her breath go, letting her body sink back down. "That doesn't mean I'm mad at you, sweetheart." I looked up at her, letting my face wrinkle in confusion, waiting for her to explain. "I'm disappointed in what you did," Mom said, "That you broke the rules." I sunk down at this, at the reminder that I had indeed acted out, that I had broken their trust. "But again," Mom said, pulling me into a hug, "That doesn't mean I'm mad at you, sweetheart. It just means that you did something to upset me, but we all make mistakes, and we learn from those mistakes, right?" "Ya," I mumbled, my voice muted and depressed. "It's ok," Mom soothed, kissing me again, "It's ok to make mistakes, and while daddy and I might be mad in the moment, while we might seem angry with you, just remember that we will always love you no matter what, ok?" I nodded, wiping a rogue tear from my face, feeling relieved and yet burdened at the same time. It was a relief to know that she wasn't made, to know that there was still hope at redemption. And yet it was a burden to know that they were still upset with me, that I was still in trouble for what I had done. But either way, it was a piece of the puzzle squared away and put in place. And now, now that I knew how she felt, it was time to tell her how I felt, it was time to tell her about my wanting to be a baby. "Mommy?" "Yes, sweetheart?" "I had a dream." "Ok," Mom said, her voice unsure, "And what was your dream about?" "It was about being a baby." Mom nodded. "And what about being a baby?" She asked, playing with my hair as she rocked. "I was in my room." No. I paused, correcting myself. "I was in my nursery." Mom seemed to jump at these words, her body seemed to freeze up. I knew what she was thinking about. I knew because I was thinking about it too. My room. Those gray walls and that changing table. It had been what started this whole thing, what had made me act out. "And what were you doing in your nursery?" "We," I said correcting her. "And what were we doing in your nursery?" I smiled, thinking back to that dream, thinking back to how loving and warm and peaceful it had been. How relaxing it had been. How much I had enjoyed that feeling, how much I craved that feeling, that closeness, that bond. "It was morning and you were waking me up. You kept smiling as I laid there drinking from a bottle. And then you picked me up and carried me over to a rocking chair." I paused, thinking, remembering. I reached out and felt the padding on the chair we were sitting on now, taking in its soft comfort. "It was this same chair." "Was it?" "Ya," I said, nodding, "And then you sat down and cuddled with me. You held the bottle for me as I drank from it. And we just kept looking at each other. And you just kept smiling at me. And I just kept drinking. And you just kept smiling." "That sounds like it was a good dream." "It was," I said, my thoughts trailing off. "Mommy?" "Yes, baby?" "I like being a baby," I said, "I like being your baby." "And you know what?" Mom asked. "What?" "I like having you as my baby." "Really?" "Really." I laid back against mom's chest, sinking into her as my heart pounded with joy, with that weight off my chest. It felt good to tell her how I felt. It felt good to hear her say those things, to hear her say that she enjoyed this as much as I did. But there was still that fear there, that creeping fear that made me worry, that made me scared. "It's still scary," I said, still laying there against mom, keeping my ear to her heart, listening to the soothing thumping of it. "What is?" mom asked, rubbing my back, tracing over my shoulder with her thumb. "Being a baby." "How so?" I thought for a moment and then answered. "I feel like I'm going to forget myself. I feel like I'm going to forget how to be a big girl. That my big girl self is going to disappear and never come back." "Is that why you took your diaper off? Because you were scared you were going to forget how to be a big girl. I nodded, sitting back up in her lap, waiting. "You know what else was scary at first?" Mom asked, stroking my cheek. "What?" "Wearing diapers." I giggled at that. At how silly that was. "Diapers aren't scary," I laughed. Mom laughed, joining my giggles. "But they were," She said, "Remember how you felt your first time going poopie?" I nodded, thinking back to that first night, thinking back to how I had thrown my sippy cup on the floor, how I had had a tantrum right there in the kitchen. And then How I had cried in the bathroom, how hard I had fought to keep from soiling myself. It all seemed so silly now. Pooping was just pooping. There was nothing to it. "Do you see what I mean?" Mom asked, pulling me from my thoughts. "And now diapers aren't scary anymore." I nodded. But even with that understanding, there was still a pit in my stomach, a knot there, a little ball of fear that made the idea of having a nursery, of being a baby scary. "Tell you what," Mom said, "Why don't you and I help daddy put your nursery together tomorrow. You and I can decorate and set things up while daddy moves all the heavy stuff for us." I giggled again. "Daddy always moves the heavy stuff. "Isn't that what daddies are for?" Mom asked, tickling my tummy, making me lean into her in a giggling squirming fit. I nodded again. All those questions had been answered, all those fears had been dealt with. And yet there was still a hesitation, still the fear of the unknown, of what was to come. Like a dark room, even when one knows what's inside, the journey can be scary. "I love you, sweetheart." "I love you too mommy." "Now how about we go get some dinner in that little belly?" I nodded, my stomach growling in agreement. And yet I didn't want to leave, didn't want this moment to end. And so I leaned back into mom, back into her chest to listen to her heart, letting her arms wrap around me and hold me close, letting her rock me and comfort me. Letting her baby me. "Can we stay here for a few more minutes?" "We can stay here as long as you want, sweetheart."

Chapter 9: Choices and Consequences Another thud sounded from upstairs, the thumping of a heavy object as though it were being moved. My ears drew to it by instinct, perking up with curiosity and excitement at the unknown. Dad had been up there all morning, only coming downstairs once to take a break and have lunch with us. And still, nobody would tell me what was going on. And that only made my curiosity burn brighter. "Mommy?" I asked, turning to face mom, "What's daddy doing?" It was my umpteenth time asking that very same question today. Mom sighed, not even bothering to look up from her book as she answered on autopilot. "He's just moving some stuff around, sweetheart, it's nothing to worry about." Just some stuff? Nothing to worry about? All that said to me was that there was something going on, that there was something to worry about. It made me want to know all the more, but still, I wasn't allowed up there, wasn't allowed to go upstairs by myself, and the baby gate made sure of that. And so I huffed, turning back to my dollies and stuffed toys, playing with my dollhouse as my imagination wandered, dreaming up all the possibilities of what dad could be doing up there. Possibilities that seemed endless. As I played, I would let my eyes wander to the stairs, my curiosity begging for me to go look, to just sneak upstairs for a quick peek, and every time my eyes went that way, mom's seemed to follow, giving me the look, letting me know to not even try, to not even think about it. But I couldn't help myself, the urge was getting too strong, like a child on Christmas eve, the excitement was too much. I needed to know. And then I finally got the opportunity. "Alright, sweetheart," Mom said, setting her book down, "Mommy's going to go to the bathroom, and then I'll be right back, ok?" "Ok," I said, feigning disinterest as mom disappeared down the hallway, but inside, my heart was pounding away as adrenaline rushed throughout my body. I could hear her footsteps echoing on the tile, and then they stopped, I turned my head, watching, waiting for a moment to make sure she was gone. She was. My heart pounded with excitement, with rebellion. It was now or never. Standing up, I made my way to the stairs, running-tiptoeing as I went, trying to contain my excitement as I reached the base of the stairs and the baby gate. I frowned, eyeing the infantile thing. It had been there ever since the day I stormed away from mom, a reminder that I was now a toddler, and that the stairs were too dangerous for me. But what mom and dad didn't know couldn't hurt them, right? And so, I grabbed the latch, fumbling with the button as I squeezed it, straining to get the gate open. And there was a click, I froze for a moment, collecting myself, my emotions, and then I pulled on the latch, and the gate swung open. There was a second thought crossing my mind, one that told me that I shouldn't do this, that this was all a bad idea, a very bad idea. And then there was a part of me that thought of this as an adventure, as a way to quell the boredom of the day, and that side of me won over. I took a step, pausing for a moment, listening. My heart pounded in the silence, my senses heightened with adrenaline. And then I took another step, pausing again, listening again. And then another step. And another step. And soon, I was at the top of the stairs, my eyes peering over the edge as I looked down the hallway, watching for dad, listening for his movements. There was no sign of him, nothing out of the ordinary. And then my eyes caught sight of my door. My door. My bedroom. The bedroom I hadn't been in since this whole baby treatment started. More excitement gathered in my body, an energy that was getting hard to contain. I crept forward, tiptoeing down the hallway towards the door. And then I froze, my eyes going wide as dad's voice filtered into my ears. "Why won't these drawers fit?" Dad said, mumbling to himself. He sounded frustrated, tired. Oh, that's why, I put the darned sides on upside down. I mean it's from Ikea for crying out loud, it's supposed to be easy to put together." I frowned. Why was he building something in my room? What was he building? I crept closer, still listening as I got to the door, holding my ear up to the crack to listen more. "Come on, Mark, it's just a changing table, you've built on before, and everything else is already set up. Just finish this and you'll be done with the hard part." Why was he building a changing table? And why was he building it in my room? Didn't I already have a station set up on their dresser in their bedroom? None of this was making any sense. And then something else happened. Mom. Her voice carrying up to me from downstairs. I had taken too long. She was back from the bathroom. "Emily," She called, her voice carrying a hint of worry in the tone, "Where'd you go, sweetheart, are you hiding from mommy?" If only she knew. I still had a chance, still had an opportunity to leave know and not get caught. But I had come too far to stop now. I needed to know, needed to know what dad was doing. I paused for a second, holding my breath, being as quiet as possible, and then I let a single eye peak around the corner. The first thing that hit me was the walls. They were no longer the whitish tan that they used to be, but rather a light gray. The color reminded me of something in particular, like I had a memory of it, buried somewhere deep in the back f my mind. And then it hit me. It was the same exact gray from Abagail's nursery. The same exact gray mom had helped her sister choose when they were designing the baby's nursery. And now here it was, in my room, in my bedroom. But why? I needed to know. "Emily!" Mom called again, her voice becoming more frantic, "Can you please come out for me, sweetheart." I was going to be in big trouble, but I had already passed the point of no return. There was no going back, I had committed to this already. My heart quickened, even more, thumping in my chest as though it were trying to escape. It was all starting to click in my brain, dad talking about the changing table, the walls. I knew, deep down I knew what it all meant, knew what it all was for. But I needed to be sure, I needed to know. I pushed the door open, holding my breath as it swung open, waiting for the squeak that never came, and then I stepped inside. And I wanted to scream right then and there. It was gone. Everything was gone. My dresser, my desk, my bed, my TV, my decorations. Everything. All of it. Gone. All that was there was dad sitting in the middle of the floor with his back to me, a set of instructions laying off to his side, and a piece of furniture laying on the ground in front of him. A piece of furniture that indeed reminded me of a changing table. It all made me so angry, so nauseous. "Emily!" Mom called again, this time her voice drifted up the stairs as her footfalls sounded on the steps. "Honey is Emily up there!" I had heard it. Dad had heard it. I knew he had heard it because he turned to look at me almost as soon as mom had finished her sentence. There was a bit of surprise on his face as he smiled at me. "Ya, she's right here!" Dad called back, climbing to his feet. "How'd you get up here, pumpkin?" "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice direct and demanding. Dad shook his head, seeming to ignore my question as he carried on talking over me. "You're not supposed to be up here," He said, guiding me back out of the room. My room. "What... Are... You... Doing? I asked again, letting my voice linger on every word, letting my anger build up as dad stood in the doorway, keeping me out of the room as mom started down the hallway. Both of them seeming to corral and trap me upstairs. "Emily, why don't we go talk about this downstairs," Mom suggested, her tone calm and caring, a change from her worry and anxiety a minute ago. But still, no anger, not even a hint of it at the fact I had come up here alone. I paused for a moment, her words washing over me as I thought, trying to choose my next move, trying to figure out what was going on, and then I shook my head. "No." "No what, sweetheart?" Mom asked. "I don't want to go downstairs," I said, crossing my arms, standing my ground there in the hallway. "I want to know what happened to my room." "And we can talk about that downstairs," Mom said as dad took my hand, both of them trying to take control over the situation as though I were nothing but a fussy toddler. My face turned red at this, at the fact that they weren't listening to me, that they wouldn't tell me. It frustrated me, made me mad, and as dad tried to lead me towards mom, I exploded. "No," I growled, pulling my hand out of dad's grasp. "You're not listening to me!" I screamed, "I want to know what happened to my room!" "Emily, that's not our inside voice, now is it?" Dad asked, reaching for me again. "I don't care anymore!" I seethed, pushing him away, breathing heavily as I glared at my parents, anger pouring out of my eyes. There was a pause for a moment, a silence between us all in the hallway as my parents stood in shock, unsure of what to make of my outburst, at my shift in tone. And then mom spoke up, breaking that silence. "Why don't we all just take a sec..." "What... Did... You... Do... To... My... Room?" I asked again, staring mom down with deep anger in my eyes, cutting her off mid-sentence. There was a certain tone, certain spite in each of those words as I sounded them out. "That's it, you're getting a time out," Dad said, pointing towards the stairs. "Downstairs, now." A time out? Did he really just threaten me with a time out. That angered me even more. The idea that even at this moment they were still treating me like a toddler. I couldn't take it anymore. "Would you both just stop treating me like I'm some little baby!" I screamed, backing away from dad as he moved towards me once again. I was trapped, like an animal with nowhere to go. I knew that. Mom and dad knew that. And then I saw it. The bathroom door, the bathroom I used to use every day, the bathroom that had had a child lock on it ever since this baby treatment started. And it was open, the light left on inside beckoning me forward. Dad must have left it open at some point. An opportunity to escape. And I took it. I slipped inside, slamming the door shut with dad on my heels, locking it mere milliseconds before the knob jiggled and dad pounded on the door, telling me to open the door. But that wasn't going to happen. I was over this. Over all of this. The diapers, the baby treatment. It had been ok at first, even fun at times, but my bedroom was the last straw. I was sick of it, and mom and dad didn't seem to understand that. If they weren't going to listen, then I would have to show them. No sooner than that thought finished, I felt the urge to pee, and for once, I held it back, saving it for something other than a stupid diaper. I let my eyes drift to the toilet, and smiled. "Emily!" Dad said, "Open this door right now!" "Or what?" There was a pause, some urgent whispering, and then mom's voice. "Emily, sweetheart, please open the door," Mom begged from the other side, her voice still so settled, so calm, trying to coax me from the room. Only that wasn't going to be happening today. "No." "Emily, please, we just want to talk, sweetheart." "Go away." "Emily." "I said go away!" I ignored mom's next comments, my heart beating heavy as everything seemed to fade away except for the toilet. I stepped over to it, letting my hands run over the child latch, giving my brain a second to figure out how to open it. And then my fingers pressed into the button, straining to, giving it all, and then it clicked, and the latch fell away. It was open. The toilet seat was open. I fumbled with the snaps of my onesie, pulling at the buttons between my crotch until they popped open. I pulled the infantile garment over my head and threw it off to the side, leaving myself dressed in only a diaper. And I stood there for a moment, looking down at Elmo, at the diaper taped snug around me. It looked so natural there, like it was mean to be there. I ran my hands over the cloth material, thinking for a moment, my mind flipping back through all those times mom had changed my diaper, how relaxing those moments had been, how loving those moments had been, and then my fingers found the tapes, and two quick rips later the diaper fell to the ground between my feet, freeing me of any kind of infantile presence. This is what I wanted after all, right? To be a big girl again, for this baby treatment to end, right? At least that's what I told myself. But still, I couldn't help but feel a nervous pit rising inside of me as I sat down on the toilet, scooting back onto it. The porcelain was cold against my legs and bottom, an uncomfortable feeling, hard and unforgiving, compared to the soft warmth of my diaper. My diaper. I frowned at that thought. Why was I so fixated on the stupid diaper, I didn't need it, I didn't want it. I shook my head, forcing those thoughts from my head, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the toilet as I focused on the task at hand. Peeing. Something so natural, something so easy, and yet so difficult. I tried to relax, tried to let myself go, but I couldn't, it was like there was a mental block there. It just felt so... so wrong. It was so cold, so uncomfortable. If only I were... No, just stop, stop thinking about. "Come on, just go already," I whispered to myself, knocking that thought from my mind, forcing myself to pee on the toilet. It was supposed to feel good to use the toilet, right? I mean, that's what's ingrained into us throughout childhood, toilet good, diaper bad. I wanted to use the toilet, wanted to prove that I was a big girl, that I didn't need to be treated like a baby. And then, finally, a small trickle started, the sweet sound of pee bouncing off the water below filled my ears. I smiled. It was a relief to let my bladder go, like a weight being lifted from my chest. And I waited. I waited for some kind of magical 'ah-hah' moment to happen, for myself to realize that I hated wearing diapers, hated being treated like a baby. I wanted to hate it, and yet, as I sat there on the cold and uncomfortable seat, my eyes couldn't help but wander to the diaper on the floor, my brain couldn't help but think about how warm and soft and comforting it was. It was an 'ah-hah' moment, just not the one I was expecting. I hadn't expected to miss the warm, heavy feeling of urine pooling in my diaper, and the comforting squish of it afterward. I hadn't expected to miss that security, that warmth, that comfort. I hadn't expected to actually want a diaper. The door jiggled, my eyes locked on to the handle as it moved about, as though someone was working it from the other side, trying to get in. And then there was a subtle click, and I watched the lock turn, making my heart skip a beat as the door swung open, and in came dad, his face red and hot, his eyes narrowed and cold, angry. Emily?" He asked, his voice short and serious. The tone was one that I hadn't heard in a long time. "What are you doing using the big girl potty?" "Da... Daddy..." "Save it," Dad said, cutting me off, "I don't want to hear another word from you." "But..." "Not... Another... Word..." Dad grabbed me by the arm, pulling me off the toilet and onto my feet, pulling me into the hallway. I pulled against him, trying to make him stop, trying to get him to slow down as he kept leading me to their bedroom, to the rocking chair. I knew what was coming. "Daddy please," I begged, tears starting to stream down my cheeks, falling to the floor as my legs collapsed under me, my body flopping down like a ragdoll. No different than a toddler having a temper tantrum. Dad pulled me back to my feet and threw me over his shoulder, continuing down the hallway and into their room as I flailed about in his arms, kicking and hitting and screaming and crying. All those bottled up emotions, all those thoughts and discoveries pouring out of me all at once. And then I was set down, my feet touching the ground for just a second before I was pulled over dad's lap and pinned down by his arms with my naked bottom exposed. "Daddy please don't," I tried once more, my voice muddled between my tears and sobs, one last hopeless plead. "Please, I'm sorry." There was a moment of silence before his hand came down. The calm before the storm. I held my breath, freezing in his lap as I readied myself. And then his hand came down with an audible smack. A stinging pain rang out on my bottom, making me yelp out as I squirmed again. "I really didn't want to have to do this," Dad said, pausing before bringing his hand down again, "But what you just did is unacceptable, young lady." SMACK "We don't yell." SMACK "We don't break the rules." SMACK "We don't lock doors SMACK "We don't take our diaper off." SMACK "And we don't use the big girl potty." SMACK I was a sobbing mess by the time dad let me up from his lap. Snot was dripping down my red and puffy face, mixing with my flow of tears as I sobbed. My bottom stung something worse, and I rubbed it as mom held her arms out to me, pulling me into a hug, comforting me, soothing me. I looked up from mom's shoulder as dad left the room. Something about his posture struck me as he left. It was the way his hand came up to his face, almost as though he were wiping tears away from his eyes. Was dad crying? Mom lifted me up and laid me back on the changing table. I winced as my bottom touched down, still feeling the sting from dad's hand. A pacifier was slipped into my mouth and I suckled it, looking up at mom as she unfolded a fresh diaper. Even after all I had done there was no anger on her face, no soft smile either, but the soothing calm remained. "I know this can all be hard to understand," Mom said, lifting my ankles, "And I know that you're upset and frustrated and confused, but what you did today, sweetheart, was unacceptable." A cold cream touched my warm bottom, making me wince and sense, but that stinging feeling melted away with mom's gentle touch as she massaged the cream into my bottom, soothing the redness that had been there. "I don't know what to say, sweetheart," She said, laying my bottom down on the diaper, "I don't know what to say other than I'm disappointed in you." Those words struck home to me. Disappointed. She had never said that before. Had never told me that before. It felt like she had ripped my heart out, leaving behind an empty void. Some powder was dusted over my diaper area and then the diaper was pulled up between my legs and taped snug against my tummy. "I really thought we were making progress," Mom said, "I really did." She lifted me from the table and into her arms, holding me tight again, kissing my cheek as she bounced me. I swiped at the tears still dripping down my face, still choking back the occasional shudder and sob as my body wound down from the excitement of the moment. And then I was laid in my crib, my blanket tucked up and around my body. "I love you, sweetheart," Mom said, leaning down to kiss me once more, stroking my hair as she stood there for a moment, watching me. "And I always will." I was left with that, with those words as mom left the room, switching the light off on her way, leaving me in the semi-darkness of the afternoon light. And as the door clicked shut, the pacifier fell from my mouth as I turned over in the crib, burying my face in the pillow, sobbing. And as I laid there crying, all those confusing thoughts and feelings from before came flooding back into my mind. Seeing my empty bedroom, seeing it painted gray with a changing table in the middle had made me upset, had made me mad on so many different levels. But why had I been mad? I thought it was because I was sick of diapers, sick of being treated like a baby, but that wasn't the case. I did like diapers, I did like being a baby, liked being treated like a toddler. But seeing my room there, made it all too real. The idea of leaving behind my old self, of completely leaving behind that big girl scared me, and so I had acted out, no different than a toddler. And it broke the bond and trust I had with my parents. Everything that had been built up over the past month felt like it was crashing down around me. It felt like I was back at square one, felt like I was back on that first day.

Chapter 8: Movie Night "Mommy, please," I whined, whimpering as I followed mom into the bathroom. The tile was cold against my bare feet and the soggy diaper sagging between my legs was growing ever more uncomfortable with every minute. I pulled on it, feeling on the verge of tears as my eyes watered. "I know, I know," Mom cooed, giving me a slight smile as she rubbed my back, "Just give mommy a couple of seconds to start your bath, sweetheart." I whimpered again, continuing to pull at the diaper as mom turned away from me, putting her focus on the tub as opened the faucet, allowing water to flow into the tub. She waited there for another minute, ignoring me as I grew ever antsier, ever more irritated with my wet diaper. But she paid no mind as she ran her hand under the water a couple more times, testing the water temperature before setting the plug to let the tub fill, finally turning back to me. "Alright," Mom cooed, reaching for my dress, "Let's get you ready for your bath." I held my arms up as she pulled the dress up over my head, leaving me in my wet diaper as she tossed it into a nearby laundry hamper. I stepped to follow her out of instinct, not wanting to stray far from her side in my moment of discomfort, but she soon returned, smiling at me as she reached for the tapes of my diaper. The distinct sound of velcro ripping followed, and with that sound came a feeling of relief as the diaper fell to the ground, laying between my feet. Gone was the weight of the soggy thing, the coldness of the pee that had been irritating my skin. "Better now?" Mom asked, reaching for my pigtails. I nodded, wincing as her fingers worked on my hair, pulling on the little bands that had been holding my hair all day. It was always an uncomfortable feeling as mom pulled on the elastics, a brief discomfort, and then all that tension fell away as the little band was cut away. Mom brushed my hair out with her fingers, letting it fall down past my shoulders before moving to the other side. Again, I winced, there was a brief discomfort as the band was pulled on, and then it was cut away. "You're going to need a haircut soon," Mom said, massaging my head and scalp for a moment to relieve any tension that had been there, "Maybe we can go get you a haircut next week." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. One that didn't bother me. I was already feeling relaxed and happy again as mom collected the little bands and my wet diaper from the ground, depositing the bands in the trash and balling my diaper up, setting it aside on the counter for later disposal. "Now, how about we get you all scrubbed up and squeaky clean," Mom said, returning to my side, stopping the faucet, bathing the room in deafening silence as the water stopped running. I nodded, letting mom grab me under my arms as she started to lift me up. My eyes focused on the water, on the stillness of the surface, and then my face wrinkled. Something was wrong, different. "No!" I screamed, pushing away from mom, wriggling in her arms until she set me back down, her own eyes were wide, searching for what had caused me to freak. "What's the matter, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Mom asked, kneeling in front of me, keeping hold of my arms as she looked me in the eyes, worry flooding her face. "Bubbles." Mom sighed at that one word, let herself relax again as she let out a slight chuckle, pulling me in for a hug. "Silly mommy, I almost forgot," She said, rubbing my back as she stood again, crossing over to her sink where she opened the cabinet underneath, pulling out a little pink bottle. "Can you help mommy make some bubbles?" I nodded, following mom over to the edge of the tub where she poured in some of the liquid mixture from the bottle, using her hands to mix it around the bath. I stood next to her, helping to move the water around, watching expectantly as bubbles started to form on the surface. "Are you ready now?" "Uh-huh," I said, nodding as mom grabbed me under the arms once again and lifted me over the side of the tub. My feet touched the water first. It was warm and soothing, the perfect temperature. And as I was sat inside, my muscles seemed to go limp as the warm water pulled me into a state of relaxation. I sat there for a few minutes, mesmerized in my own thoughts as I stared at the steam rising from the water, my hands playing with bubbles floating atop the water. My mind was snapped back to as mom ran a washcloth over my back, her touch was gentle and caring, it felt good. And so I sank into her arms, letting her have control of me as she washed my body, working her way down my back and across my bottom before reaching for my arms and then my chest and belly. Soon, she was working her way down the rest of my body, over my diaper area and down my legs, ending with my feet, something that made me giggle and squirm as the cloth tickled the bottoms of my feet. "Can you sit back for me, sweetheart?" I nodded, and laid back against the edge of the tub, closing my eyes as mom poured a cup of water over my head, wetting my hair. The soothing feeling of shampoo being massaged into my scalp followed as mom took care in washing my hair, letting her fingers linger there for a bit as I enjoyed the moment. The warm water, the comforting touch, the pleasant smell of baby shampoo. It all brought back pleasant memories. Memories from when I was younger, from when I was an actual toddler. It was a warm feeling, loving. One that I never wanted to go away. I wanted it to last forever. "Close your eyes, sweetheart." I did as I told as more water was poured over my head, rinsing the shampoo out as it ran down my head and into the bathwater, adding to the already soapy mixture. I let out a breath, a sigh as mom kissed the back of my head, her fingers playing with my hair as we sat there for a few more minutes, mother and daughter, mother and baby. "Are you ready to get out?" I nodded, looking at my pruned fingers as mom pulled the plug on the tub, letting the water start to drain out, and with it, the warmth that it had brought. She helped me to stand in the tub and then pulled me out and wrapped me in a fluffy towel as I shivered in the air. Her arms hugged me and held me close as she dried me off. "Let's go get your diaper on," Mom said, pressing her hand against my back as she urged me from the bathroom and back to their bedroom, back to where my crib and changing table were. She left me standing there, wrapped in my towel as she busied herself, picking out a pair of footed pajamas and a fresh diaper to dress me in for the night. And as I waited, an idea slipped into my head. I giggled at it, at the thought of playful defiance. "What's so funny?" Mom asked, turning around to pick me up. "Nothing," I said, continuing to giggle as I stepped away from her, my eyes narrowing as more giggles escaped my lips. It was simple, if she wanted to diaper me, she was going to have to catch me first. "What's so funny?" Mom asked, trying to pick me up once again. This time, I slipped past her, dropping the towel as I ran from her and towards the door to the hallway. Mom followed behind me, laughing herself as I streaked across the bedroom in my birthday suit. "What are you doing, naked girl?" She asked, trying to contain her laughter as she chased me about the room, indulging me with this little game of tag. "You got to catch me, mommy," I giggled, running from the room and down the hallway, looking over my shoulder as I ran. And then I was wrapped in a pair of arms, caught in their embrace as I was lifted up and carried bridal style back to the room. "Where are you going without a diaper, young lady?" Dad asked, laughing as I squirmed and giggled in his arms, fighting to be free. But he held me tight, and soon I was laying on my back on their bed, still squirming, still wriggling about as I laughed and giggled, playfully kicking at mom's hands as she brought the diaper over. "Are you going to lay still so I can get your diaper on?" Mom asked, trying to compose herself as she grabbed for my feet, trying to stop my kicks. "Nu-uh," I said, shaking my head as dad held my arms still. He leaned over, blowing a raspberry against my tummy, making me giggle and laugh harder. Mom used the distraction to grab my ankles and lift my bottom, sliding the diaper underneath me. At the feel of the soft diaper, and an ache starting in my side from laughing so hard, I calmed down, catching my breath as mom brought over some cream and powder. Dad kept hold of me, making silly faces at me, getting me to laugh as mom finished diapering me. And then I was let up. I turned and attacked dad, playfully wrestling with him as mom retrieved my footed pajamas. "Emily," Mom said, patting the side of the bed, "Let's get your jammies on, sweetheart." I looked at her and then back at dad, not wanting this moment of play to end. "Go on, pumpkin," Dad said, patting my diapered bottom, "Once your jammies are on we can go get some ice cream." Ice cream. I had forgotten about it. Had forgotten about our movie night. A renewed excitement returned to my body as I crawled over to mom, laying at the edge of the bed as she slipped the footed pajamas up my feet. and over my bottom. She stood me up to finish pulling up my body and over my arms and then zipped it the front up, snapping the zipper closed at the top. "Ready?" She asked, pulling me into her arms. "Ready," I said, nodding as I was carried from the room. Minutes later, we were in the kitchen, I was sitting on a stool, waiting with a bowl in front of me as dad brought two containers of ice cream over. "Chocolate or Vanilla?" Dad asked, setting the two containers of ice cream in front of me. "That one," I said, pointing at the chocolate. Dad smiled, laughing. "How did I know that already?" He asked, popping open the container of ice cream. "Chocolate's my favorite," I said, leaning over to watch him scoop the ice cream. "You and me both," Dad said, dropping two scoops in my bowl, letting the ice cream fall in between the banana sitting on either side. It was the beginning of a banana split, a delicacy to say the least. "Now," Dad said, leaning across the counter, bopping me on the nose, "It's time for the best part." "Toppings!" "That's my girl." I giggled, watching as dad retreated, first to a cabinet, pulling out a mix of bottles and containers, and then to the fridge where he grabbed an equal amount of items, bringing them all over to me. Sprinkles, chocolate and caramel sauce, whipped cream, chocolate chips, and even brownie bites. It was a sight to behold. "I want all of them," I said, reaching across the counter and for the container of brownie bites. "All of them?" Dad asked, laughing as he helped me open the container. "Yeah." "Alright, one sugar rush coming up," He said, watching as I placed two brownie pieces on either side of my ice cream. The next few minutes were a mix of dad helping, and me doing as we added the rest of the toppings to my ice cream, laughing and giggling as we did so, turning the kitchen into a disaster zone in the process as sprinkles and chocolate sauce found their way onto the kitchen counter. And the end result, a heaping bowl of ice cream and banana, topped with all the chocolatey and sugary goodness known to man. All capped off with a heavy dose of whipped cream. It was a masterpiece, and it was all mine. "Here," Dad said, handing me the bowl with a spoon as she ushered me off to the living room with a couple of diaper pats, "Go show mommy and I'll be over in a minute." "Ok," I said, walking from the kitchen to the living room where I stood in front of mom, a smile beaming across my face as I giggled, showing her what I had made. "Oh, wow," Mom said, "Do you want me to hold that for a second while you sit down?" "Yes please," I said, letting mom take the bowl as I climbed onto the couch, taking a spot in the middle beside mom. She handed me the bowl, letting me dig into the mound of awesomeness as I started to fill my mouth and tastebuds with chocolatey, sugary goodness. A few minutes later, the kitchen lights shut off and I turned to see dad coming around the couch, a bowl of ice cream in each of his hands. One for him and one for mom. "Thank you," Mom said. "Your welcome," Dad said, taking a seat beside me, on the other side of the couch, "Now what do you say we get this movie started up?" "Mmm-hmm," I nodded, my mouth full of ice cream and my face covered in it as dad started the TV up, switching to the movie. "You didn't by chance bring her a bib, did you?" Mom asked, doing her best to wipe my face with nearby tissue. "I must have forgotten it," Dad said, his voice playful and eyes guilty as he started the movie up. "Is that so," Mom countered, equally playful, while I giggled, stuffing myself with my more ice cream. It was minutes later when the clanking of metal against ceramic stopped as bowls of ice cream were scrapped clean. "Are you finished?" Mom asked, nudging me as she reached for my bowl. I nodded, letting her take the empty bowl from me as she stood to make a trip to the kitchen. With her being gone and no more ice cream to occupy me, I laid out on the couch resting my head on dad's lap, curling up under one of the many blankets as the movie continued to play. The colorful characters were funny and I giggled at their antics, enjoying the singing mixed in with it all. Mom returned minutes later and took her spot once again. She leaned over, placing a pacifier in front of my face. "Just in case you want it," She whispered, patting my diaper before settling back in. I looked at the pacifier for a second, the urge to pull it into my mouth and suckle growing stronger with it in front of me. It was a feeling of need, a fixation, something that I needed to do. And so, with a quick glance at mom, I popped it into my mouth, suckling it as I settled back in to watch the movie, more relaxed now, happier, content with the night. Everything was just the way it was supposed to be. All of us cuddled up together and watching a movie. I felt happy, loved. And even dad seemed to be getting into the Trolls movie, laughing and giggling with me every time something funny happened, and then gasping and acting shocked when unexpected things happened. It made me feel cared about. A moment of family bonding. And I was loving every bit of it. Every bit of tonight. Every bit of this baby treatment. It was growing on me, and I on it. The snug warmth wrapped around my hips and bottom brought a special kind of comfort and security that was hard to explain. It was a while after that, and a good way into the movie when our trio moved once again. I was starting to feel the first effects of sleepiness, rubbing my eyes as I laid there on the couch, watching the movie. It had been a good while since I had been allowed to stay up this late, and my new enforced bedtime was showing its effects. "Do you guys want any popcorn?" Mom asked, standing up. "I would love some," Dad said, also standing, disturbing my resting place in the process, "Sorry pumpkin, daddy's got to use the bathroom real quick." Bathroom. The need to go. The need to pee. I felt it too, but unlike dad, I didn't have to worry about holding it until I got to the bathroom, I didn't have to worry about getting up. Instead, I let myself relax my body as I let my bladder go, flooding my diaper with the fresh warmth of urine. And I was still all warm and cozy and comfortable snuggled up under my blanket. "Emily, do you want some popcorn, sweetheart?" I shook my head. "Do you want anything else?" I thought for a second and then nodded. "Can I have some milk, please?" "Warm or cold?" "Warm please." "Sure thing, sweetheart." And with that, I was left alone on the couch, watching the movie and suckling my pacifier as I awaited my parents' return. The sound of popping popcorn sounded in the background and was soon met with the flush of a toilet. Dad was the first to return, and snuggled back in next to me, letting me rest my head back on his lap. Mom returned minutes later and handed dad a bowl of popcorn and me my bottle. I let the pacifier fall from my mouth and lay in front of me as I took the nipple of the bottle into my mouth, nursing the warm milk as I watched the movie. The milk was warm and soothing as it trickled down my throat. It had a hint of vanilla mixed in with its already sweet tones, and it was thick. I knew enough by now to know that it wasn't actually milk, but formula. But that stream of thought ended as my attention was drawn back to the movie, back to the characters who had managed to work their way into the Rock Trolls lair. Things were starting to heat up and I didn't want to miss a single second. At least, that's what I told myself, but my body had other ideas. With my already tired eyes and the addition of warm formula, I was being lulled to sleep as the movie continued. I fought it, tried to fight it, but my eyes kept getting heavier and heavier and my head began to drop as the world around me seemed to fade away. I was losing the fight. Even the bottle in my hands felt heavy, a burden that was too difficult to hold up. And then that weight was gone. I opened my eyes to see dad holding my bottle, letting me continue to nurse as he held it there, and then he pulled the nipple from my mouth, making me whimper. "I know, I know," He said, rubbing my back as I sat up and rubbed my eyes, letting that feeling of sleep fade away for a second. He held his arms out, welcoming me into his lap, an invitation I gladly accepted as I made myself comfortable in his arms, laying my head in the crook of his arm as I glanced over at mom. She too was sleeping, her head resting against the arm of the couch with gentle snores escaping her sleeping form. "Do you still want your bottle, pumpkin?" I nodded, letting dad slip the nipple into my mouth, holding the bottle for me as I nursed. We locked eyes for a moment, his smile beaming down on me with love and joy. We held that gaze for a few moments and then the temptation of the movie grabbed my attention once again, drawing my eyes to the screen as I continued to nurse from the bottle. And minutes after, with some milk still left in the bottle, the movie ended. I felt inclined to move, inclined to stand up, to do something. But when I tried to pull myself away from the bottle and dad's lap, his arms held me still and the nipple remained in my mouth. "It's alright, pumpkin," Dad cooed, "Just relax, it's alright to sleep, daddy's got you." I settled back in with those soothing words, relaxing into dad's warm body as the TV shut off, bathing the room in a darkness only illuminated by the stove light from the kitchen. And we sat there together, cuddled up as I continued to nurse, letting my eyes grow heavy with sleep once again as I drained the bottle. And then there was nothing left. I whimpered, opening my eyes as I sucked in air, a whimper that was met with gentle cooes and whispers as dad pulled the bottle out and replaced it with my pacifier, coaxing me to settle back down, coaxing me to sleep as the darkness of slumber pulled me under once again. The sound of velcro ripping pulled my mind back awake. It took a second for my brain to catch up, for things to come back into focus. And as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, suckling my pacifier, I felt a familiar sensation against my bottom, a baby wipe, it's chilly, soothing touch as it ran across my bottom. Only, it was a new feeling. The hands holding my ankles were larger than mom's, stronger, rougher. And the hand wiping my bottom went about it differently, there was more force behind the wipe, a quicker hand, less gentle, but not uncomfortable. My face wrinkled and as I looked to the side, my eyes went wide. It was dad. He was the one holding my legs. He was the one wiping my bottom. he was the one changing my diaper. There was a moment of panic as that realization set in. The pacifier fell from my mouth as I started to whimper, tears formed on my cheeks. "Hey, hey, it's ok, pumpkin," Dad cooed, trying to push the pacifier back into my mouth, his eyes wide and filled with panic as he tried to soothe and calm me. "What's the matter, baby?" What's the matter? The awkwardness, the newness, the shock, the difference? I wasn't sure myself. I didn't understand my own emotions. All I knew was that dad hadn't changed my diaper before, not since I was an actual baby, and the thought of him being the one to change me flipped a switch inside my head. I wanted mom, and he wasn't mom. "Hey, sweetheart," A new voice whispered. Mom. Her fingers ran through my hair, her smile and tired eyes meeting mine as I looked up at her. She picked up the pacifier from where it had fallen on the changing mat and held it up to my mouth, pressing it against my lips. "It's ok, you're ok, baby, it's just daddy," She cooed, "He's just changing your diaper, that's all." And she was right. It was just a diaper change. It was just a father changing his daughter's diaper. That was all. I sighed, letting myself relax as I took the pacifier again, suckling it as dad went back to wiping my bottom. And just like any other diaper change, it was over in a matter of minutes. The wipes were put away, a layer of cream was rubbed into my bottom and diaper bits, and then a dusting of powder was sprinkled on top of that. And before I knew it, I was back in a diaper, back being hugged by that comforting warmth and security. And moments after that, my footed jammies were zipped back up. "There we go," Dad cooed, pulling me from the changing pad and into his arms, letting my head lay against his shoulder. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked, moving to the rocking chair. I shook my head, moving in his arms as we both snuggled into the chair, his rocking and firm touch lulling me back to sleep. His soft smile and loving eyes knowing that I was safe. That I was loved. That I was cared for. I was in daddy's arms, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter 7: Dinner Out "Emily!" Mom called, "Come on, sweetheart, we need to get going." "Coming mommy!" I yelled over my shoulder, looking to see if mom was watching me, looking to see if she was waiting for me. She wasn't. Good. That meant I had a few more minutes to play. I turned back to my toys, back to the Barbie doll that I was playing with. She was one of the people in the village that I had built in the living room. The same village that mom and I had started days ago after she had pulled that tote of Lincoln Logs down from the attic for me to play with. Only now, my play area spanned across the living room, taking up most of the space between the coffee table and the TV, and now involved train tracks, blocks, dominos, barbie, and anything and everything else I could get my hands on to keep building. Still, I smiled, thinking back to the first few houses mom and I had built. They were still there, right by the center of the village, but they paled in comparison to the castle dad had helped me build later that night. The block walls and towers surrounding the castle had been dad's idea and they stood out amongst everything else that had been built. It had become our little project, and I was loving every minute of it. "Emily!" Mom called again, "Let's go, sweetheart." I looked over my shoulder, clutching the Barbie doll in my hands as mom appeared around the corner. "What are you doing, sweetheart?" Mom asked, stepping closer to me. "Playing," I mumbled, my gaze turning towards the ground as I shifted my attention back to playing, trying to act as innocent as possible, not wanting to leave. Mom sighed, kneeling down beside me, playing with my hair as she spoke. "You can play later, sweetheart, but right now we need to get going or we're going to be late." "But I don't want to go," I whined. "If you don't want to go then I'm going to have to tell daddy that his little princess doesn't go and meet him then." "Daddy?" I asked, perking up. Mom laughed. "Yes, who did you think we were meeting for dinner?" In truth, I hadn't really thought all that hard on it. I didn't even know where we were going. "Alright, I'll go," I said, "But can I play for five more minutes, please?" "Sorry, sweetheart," Mom said, shaking her head, "Daddy's already on his way there, we need to get going." I nodded with a huff as I set my Barbie doll down, letting my eyes linger on the toys for a second before turning to mom. "Do you think daddy will play with me later?" "I'm sure he'd love to," Mom said, pulling me to my feet, "But right now we need to get your socks and shoes on so we can go and meet him." I nodded again, starting towards the entryway bench when I felt mom's hand on my chest, holding me still. "Let's check your diaper before leaving," She said, lifting up the back of my dress, slipping a few fingers past the waistband of my diaper so that she could pull it back and peer inside. "No poopies," She said, letting the diaper snap back into place before reaching between my legs, slipping two fingers past the cuff of my diaper. "And no pee-pees." I blushed at the intrusion but said nothing as mom patted my bottom, urging me forward again. "Now, let's go see about getting you some shoes." ******************** The drive to the restaurant didn't take long and dad was already standing outside his car waiting for us when mom pulled in next to him in the busy parking lot. I smiled at him through the window, kicking my legs happily as he approached my door, opening it. "Daddy!" "Hey, pumpkin," Dad said, reaching in to unbuckle me. Once I was free, he lifted me from the seat and into his arms, kissing my cheek as he patted my bottom. "Did you have a good day?" "Ya," I giggled." "Ya? That's good. Did you miss me, cause I missed you?" He asked, tickling my belly, making me squirm and giggle in his arms, hiding my laughter in his neck, enjoying being with him, enjoying seeing him after his being at work all day. "Is daddy being silly?" Mom asked, walking around from the other side of the car, diaper bag in arms. "Uh-huh," I said, nodding as dad bounced me in his arms, letting me catch my breath as he turned his attention to my hair, playing with one of my pigtails. "I love what mommy did with your hair today, pumpkin," He said, "It's so cute, and you're my adorable, little princess." I let a few more giggles escape as I was carried towards the restaurant. I turned in dad's arms to see where we were at. Despite being treated as though I were a toddler, I could still read. It was the Gondola House, a frequent weekend venture of ours. One that was an easy stop for some good homemade pizza and a family atmosphere. It was one of our favorites, and my stomach growled in anticipation as we approached the door. Dad chuckled, tickling my stomach once more. 'Are you hungry, pumpkin?" I nodded as mom opened the door, letting dad carry me inside. Almost immediately, my ears and eyes and nose were wound up with the new atmosphere, concentrating on the stimulus flooding my brain. The restaurant was completely open from the lobby to the dining area to the kitchen. Like one big room. And it was crowded and noisy, people were talking and laughing and eating everywhere. And then there was the smell of pizza wafting through the air. It triggered a bunch of different emotions within me. Hunger, anxiousness, worry, excitement. It was a change of pace compared to our quiet home dinners and I wasn't sure how to handle it. I squeezed dad's suit in my hands, clinging to him tighter as he bounced me in his arms, whispering to me, holding me tight as he moved further inside. "It's a little noisy in here, isn't it, sweetheart?" Mom asked, rubbing my back as she walked next to dad. I nodded, looking at her as I whimpered in dad's arms. "Would you like your pacifier?" I nodded again as mom dug in the diaper bag, pulling out my pacifier, holding it up to my mouth, offering it to me. I let her slip the pacifier in, suckling it heavily as I tried to calm myself with the soothing nipple. "You're alright, pumpkin, you're fine," Dad cooed, kissing my cheek, "Daddy's got you." But even with the pacifier, even with dad's comforting words, I felt on edge. My eyes danced about the crowded waiting area like I had done at the grocery store the past week, and just like that day, nobody paid any mind to me except for a few friendly smiles and small waves. Only now, I wasn't afraid of being seen as a big girl but was rather overwhelmed with the environment, it was like my emotions couldn't handle everything that was going on around me. It was too much for my mind to take in all at once. I just needed a break from it all, needed it to be quiet and calm for a moment so I could collect myself. "Hi, how can I help you tonight?" A woman asked. I turned to face her voice, her hazel eyes and kind smile meeting mine own worried ones. Her body seemed to soften as she stared at me, her eyes seemed to sparkle. Baby fever? I shifted my gaze from her stare, focusing on the name tag pinned to her shirt. Natalie. Her name was Natalie. "Can we get a table for three please?" Dad asked. "Sure thing," Natalie said, "And what's the name of your party?" "Mark." "Alright Mark, we've got you on the waiting list. Just to let you know, it's about a ten-minute wait and we'll call you when your tables ready." "Thank you." "No problem." With that, dad turned to head back over to mom, standing with her in the corner, trying to keep out of the way of the hustle and bustle as people entered and exited. I tried to ignore them, tried to quell the worry and anxiousness that I was feeling by relaxing in dad's arms, resting my head against his shoulder while I suckled my pacifier. His comforting hand rubbing and soothing my back as he bounced and rocked me. "Excuse me, sir?" It was a man, I turned my head to look over his way. He was older than dad, but not ancient, only a few gray hairs showed on his head, he appeared to still be in good health, and he was motioning for dad to take his spot on the bench. "You should sit, you've got a little one with you." "Oh, no, thank you, I'm fine, really," Dad tried to counter, adjusting me in his arms. "Nonsense, please, I insist," The man said, waving dad off, "I still remember those days, and while she may be a little one, she's got to be a strain on your arms. Dad thought for a moment before nodding, moving to take a seat. "Thank you." "Don't mention it," The man said with a wink, "Us fathers have to stick together." Dad laughed at that, adjusting me in his lap so that I was facing him with my head laid against his chest. "You're right about that one." And all was quiet for but a second. "And what's this little cutie's name?" A new voice, female, sitting right beside us. I stole a glance at her before burying my face in dad's suit. She was older, older than the man dad was just talking to, like old-old. Like grandma age. Gray hair and all. Why did grandmas always feel the need to ooh and aww over me? "This is Emily," Dad said, rubbing my back, "Can you say hi, pumpkin?" I looked back over at the woman, back at her friendly smile as she peered over at me. "Hello, Emily," She said, her voice was soft and melted like honey in the air. She was nothing like that other lady we had met at the park. She was gentle and calm and soothing. She respected my space, and I liked her for that. "Hi," I mumbled, letting my words slur around the pacifier as I gave her a little wave. Her eyes lit up my words. "My, my, aren't you just a precious little thing," She cooed, letting out that happy laugh that grandmas liked to do. Those chuckles laced with experience and love and hardship. "And how old are you Emily?" I suckled my pacifier again, holding it tight against my lips as I thought for a moment. How old was I? I mean, what was I supposed to tell her? That I was a big kid who was supposed to be at school who was just charading as a diaper-wearing toddler sucking a pacifier. What had mom and dad said the other day, three? They had said I was three years old. That worked with me. Slowly, I held up three fingers, showing them to the lady while dad rubbed my back. "A whole three years, huh, precious?" I nodded, letting myself smiled from behind the pacifier as I kept my head against dad, listening to his heartbeat as the woman kept interacting with me, kept talking to me. I felt drawn to her for some reason. It was like I knew deep down that she was a good person, caring, and it made me happy that I could make her smile and laugh. Maybe being oohed and awwed at wasn't so bad after all. And then dad's name was called. He said his goodbyes and thanked the man once more before heading for the hostess stand with mom by his side. I looked over dad's shoulder at the woman and waved once more at her as I was carried away. She waved back, still smiling at me, still radiating that feeling of warmth and love across the room. "Party of three for Mark?" "That's us." I recognized that voice. It was Natalie, the same hostess from before. I turned to meet her gaze once again, her hazel eyes still sparkling with that look of baby fever as she watched me in dad's arms. "Will you guys be needing a high chair tonight?" I tensed up at the mention of a high chair. It was one thing to sit in one at home, but I didn't want to use one at a restaurant in front of others. Dad patted my bottom, letting me know to settle down. Mom answered. "We will, thank you." "Sure thing," Natalie said, turning to another staff member, "Can you tell Ethan to get a high chair for table seven please." The guy nodded, disappearing from the hostess stand as Natalie turned back to us, grabbing a couple of menus and a couple of rolls of silverware. "You guys can follow me." I sank in dad's arms, unhappy with the thought of the high chair as he carried me through the lines and rows of tables and booths, following Natalie as she led us to our table. A little booth tucked away in the corner of the restaurant. It was quieter than the main dining area, but the chatter and conversation of people still filled the air. And my high chair was already waiting there for me. "Here you all are," Natalie said, placing the menus down before motioning for mom and dad to sit, smiling at me as dad sat me down in the high chair, clipping the little strap around my waist before taking his own seat. Mom sat across from him. Natalie handed mom and dad their menus and then set a piece of paper and a pack of crayons down in front of me, letting me look over the picture as she turned to mom and dad. "Just to let you all know, we are having a special tonight. It's a Tuscon steak with garlic roasted green beans and mashed potatoes. If you have any questions please let me know. Your server should be with you momentarily." "Thank you." "My pleasure," Natalie said, turning to leave. I eyed the picture of Minnie Mouse in front of me, picking up the pack of crayons that had been left for me. "Would you like me to open your crayons for you?" Dad asked, pulling me closer to the table. I nodded, handing the little plastic packet to him, waiting as he opened the packet and poured out the crayons in front of me. There were only four colors: red, blue, green, and yellow. The basic colors that every restaurant seemed to have no matter what. In most cases, it didn't matter, kids didn't care enough to worry about what colors they had, all that mattered was that they were occupied long enough for the restaurant to get food on the table. But in my case, it was just going to make the picture I was about to color look all the more babyish with clumsy color choices. But I didn't care, it was something to pass the time as mom and dad talked, and so I picked up the green crayon and went to work, making Minnie Mouse look a bit Grinch-like with her green makeover. "What do you think, split a large and then get a small for her?" Mom asked, watching me as I colored. "Ya, I think that'll work," Dad said, "What do you want, pumpkin, cheese?" I nodded as I continued to color, not bothering to look up. "Alright, cheese for the little pumpkin," Dad said, "Do you just want to do our regular on the large then?" "That'll work," Mom said, playing with my hair. "We should order when they come to take our drinks. Dad nodded. "Works with me." It was only a minute later when our server came over. "Good evening folks, my name is Ethan and I'll be your server for the night. Can I start you off with something to drink?" His voice made me jump and turned, craning my neck to get a look at Ethan. He was a ginger, he neat red hair, matching with his freckled face and brown eyes. Dad answered first. "Can I get a lemonade and then a water for the little one." "Sure thing, and for you mam?" "I'll just do a water as well." "Awesome, and will we be starting with any appetizers or a side salad tonight?" Dad again. "No, but I think we're ready to order if that's alight." "Sure thing, I'm ready when you are." "Can we get a large pizza? One-half Garden and the other half bacon, black olives, and mushroom?" "One-half garden, and one-half bacon, black olives, and mushroom," Ethan repeated, scribbling in his notepad, "Alright, anything else?" "And then a small cheese, and that'll be all." "Sure thing, I'll get that in the kitchen right away, and then I'll be back with your drinks." "Thank you." Ethan nodded and then turned away, heading off to the next table. I spent the next few minutes coloring as mom and dad talked and Ethan came back with our drinks. There was something so soothing about coloring. It let me focus on this one thing and ignore the world around me. All that excitement and stress that had filled me when we first arrived. I could actually relax and give my nerves a break while we waited for dinner. And then, I finished my very green Minnie Mouse. "Daddy look," I said, letting the pacifier fall from my mouth as I tugged on his sleeve, trying to get his attention. "What is it, pumpkin," He asked, turning towards me, smiling as I held the picture out to him. He took it and spent a second looking it over before commenting on it. "It's beautiful, pumpkin, you did a great job." "Can I see?" Mom asked. I nodded and watched as dad handed her the picture. "Oh, wow, good job, sweetheart, very nice," Mom said, "Should we take it home and hang it on the fridge?" I nodded, my smile beaming with their praise and approval as mom slipped the picture into my diaper bag, saving it for later. "So," Dad said, changing the subject, "Did you do anything fun today, pumpkin?" I nodded, taking a sip of water from my kid's cup. "Ya, I played with our village," I said, "Will you help me build more when we get home?" Dad chuckled, ruffling my hair. "We could do that if you want, but I was thinking we could watch a movie tonight." "A movie?" "Ya, we could have a little movie night," Dad said, "We could snuggle up with some blankets and pillows and watch a movie." "What movie though?" "How about that new Trolls movie. The World Tour one." I thought for a moment before answering. "Only if we can have popcorn." "What kind of movie night would it be without popcorn?" Dad asked, tickling my side. "So what do you say, movie or no movie?" I squirmed under his fingers, giggling, and trying to push his hands away as he tickled me. "And ice cream?" "And ice cream." I nodded, satisfied with my bargaining. "Movie please." Things settled down after that and I sipped more of my water, letting my eyes wander past our table. I stopped when I saw another little girl across the room. She was sitting with her parents, her hair done up cute just like mine, the telltale diaper bag sitting next to her mom. A toddler, happy, and giggling as she colored her page just as I had done. Only, she was sitting in the booth and I was in a high chair. This girl, an actual toddler, had more freedom than I did. It made me blush as I slipped at that moment, remembering for a second that I wasn't actually a toddler. And then I felt the urge to pee, and without a second thought, I let it out, let that warmth spread throughout my diaper as it swelled with fresh urine. I may not have been physically a toddler, but I was a toddler all the same. I was just like her. "Alright, folks, here, we are," Ethan said, snapping me from my thoughts as he set mom and dad's pizza on the little pizza stand on our table. He set my pizza down on yet another stand, this one closer to me, but out of my reach. "One large, half garden, half bacon, black olives, and mushroom. And then one small cheese. Is there anything else I can get you, folks?" "No, I think we're good," Dad said. Ethan nodded. "Then please enjoy and I'll be back in a couple of minutes to check in on you all." My stomach growled in anticipation as I watched dad pull a slice off a slice of cheese pizza and slide it onto a plate. And as mom tied a bib around my neck, dad cut that piece of pizza into bite-sized pieces before setting it in front of me. I stared down at the mutilated piece of pizza in front of me and then looked up at mom and dad glaring at them as they pulled their own slices onto plates and began eating. It wasn't fair that I had to eat my pizza and pieces, and I wanted to complain, but before I could my stomach rumbled, begging me to give in, to eat. I looked down again, at that mutilated slice. Pizza was pizza, right? I put aside the fact that I was out in public and sitting in a high chair with a wet diaper, wearing a bib with my pizza all cut up like one would for a toddler. I was hungry. And eating was all that mattered. Reaching down, I picked up one of the pieces and stuffed it into my mouth, chewing as I turned to watch that little girl again. Only the table was empty now. I let my eyes wander for another few seconds while I finished chewing and then turned back for another piece, this time keeping my focus on our table while we all ate in silence, filling out bellies. A while later, the check was paid and we were all finishing up eating, with myself being the last to finish. "Daddy, I'm done," I said, squirming in the high chair, getting antsy from having been stuck sitting for so long. "Are you sure, pumpkin?" Dad asked. "Uh-huh," I said, nodding as I pushed my plate away, letting dad take it from me and stack it with his own. "Well then, are we ready to go?" "I think so," Mom said, opening the diaper bag and pulling out a packet of baby wipes, "Just give me a sec to get her cleaned up, and then we'll be ready." Dad nodded as mom pulled a single baby wipe out from the packet, taking hold of each of my hands one at a time to wipe them clean and then holding my head still so that she could wipe my face and mouth off before untying my bib. The wet wipe was tucked away in a plastic bag along with my bib and the baby wipes were placed back in the diaper bag and then we were ready to go. Mom and dad stood up from their seats and dad lifted me from the high chair, resting me on his hip. And then he patted my bottom and finally felt my soggy diaper. "Uh-oh," Dad said, "Somebodies got a soggy butt." Mom turned and smiled at me. "Is that so, sweetheart, did you go pee-pee?" She cooed, reaching over to feel my diaper. I nodded as she pinched the back of my diaper, blushing as people from the surrounding tables started to take notice, making me squirm more Mom rubbed my back as she spoke to dad. "She's not that wet, I think a diaper change can wait until we get home." My face wrinkled at this. The diaper hadn't been uncomfortable before, but the idea of having to sit in my own pee until we got home made that squishy warmth feel cold and clammy all of a sudden. I didn't want to wait, I wanted to be changed now, wanted to ride home in a clean diaper. "You're not going to change me hear?" Mom shook her head. "I'll change you when we get home, sweetheart." "But I don't want to wait," I whined, starting to fuss and squirm in dad's arms. A protest that got me no closer to a fresh diaper, but rather left me stuck with my pacifier in my mouth as I was carried out of the restaurant. There would be no clean diaper for this ride home.

Thank you ? Chapter 6: Learning to Play I laid on the couch, watching as yet another episode of Peppa Pig flashed across the screen, the bright colors and energetic characters melting through my brain as I stared past them, zoning off into nothing. I had watched enough cartoons to last me a lifetime. My gaze turned towards the ground, scanning over the toys scattered across the living room floor, looking for something to pique my interest, looking for something to put this boredom to rest. But I was tired of my baby dolls, I was tired of my blocks, I was tired of playing with toys meant for a toddler. They were boring. Rolling onto my back, I stared up at the ceiling, sighing around my pacifier, taking comfort in the nipple as it eased my boredom, giving me something to fixate on while my mind wandered. I wasn't feeling very little today. I wasn't in the mood to act and behave like some perfect, little toddler. I cringed, thinking back on my trip to the grocery store the other day, and how easily I had let myself become a toddler, how little thought I had put into my actions there. It was embarrassing to think that I could slip into that headspace so easily, that I could set my big girl mind and self up on a shelf and let myself become a toddler. It scared me that it came so easily. It shouldn't be natural, and yet, it felt so right. And then my mind shifted to school, to what my friends and classmates were right now. A rush of frustration that I couldn't be there filled my body. I wanted to know, needed to know what was going on in the world outside beyond this bubble of babyhood that my parents had sealed me in. I shuffled again on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. My diaper didn't feel quite right, and so I reached down to pull on it, trying to adjust the thick padding so that it felt better between my legs. And it was just my luck that mom walked by right then. "Do you need your diaper changed, sweetheart?" "No," I said, my voice unenergetic, depressed. "It's just uncomfortable." Mom smiled, setting down the laundry basket she had been carrying before walking over and taking a seat beside me, by my feet. "Well, first off, let me check it for you," She said, reaching for the diaper, not asking, not waiting for permission. "I don't need a diaper change," I said, kicking her hands away as I pushed myself further into my side of the couch, glaring at her from my spot. I didn't need her to check my diaper like some helpless, little baby. Mom sat back, a bit of shock in her eye, a bit of confusion, but no anger, no irritation. It didn't seem possible to make her mad. "I've been checking and changing your diapers for two weeks now, sweetheart, what's the matter?" "What's the matter is that I'm not a toddler," I said standing up, starting to storm away from her. "Emily, please come back here," Mom said, her voice calm and settled yet serious. I stopped in my tracks, thinking for a moment before turning to face her, arms crossed across my chest and scowl settled on my face. "No," I said, letting my anger and frustrations seep out of me with that word. "I don't want to wear diapers, I don't want to use diapers, and I don't want you to treat me like I'm some little baby!" "Emily," Mom said, her voice louder than before, "Come back here, please." I didn't turn back this time, didn't stop to say anything. I just continued on my path, storming out of the living room and heading for the stairs. I knew I wasn't allowed to go up them myself. Toddlers weren't allowed to use the stairs by themselves, but I didn't care, I just needed to breathe for a minute, needed to get away from everything for a minute, needed to get away from mom for a minute. "Emily." "Just leave me alone!" I screamed, starting up the stairs. "Emily, where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" "I said, leave me alone!" My footfalls echoed through the house as I stomped up the stairs, making sure mom heard each and every footfall of my defiance. I needed her to know that I was upset. I needed her to know that I was mad and frustrated and confused. And this was the only way I knew how to do it. I threw mom yet another glare from the top of the stairs before I started down the hallway, heading for their room, a place I had come to consider my own with this baby treatment. I pushed open the door, taking in the familiar and comforting scent of baby powder, the smell of a nursery, before walking past my crib and changing table. I stopped at the rocking chair and pulled myself onto it, curling my legs and arms up into a tight little ball. My anger flared for a moment as I sat there, and then subsided, turned to something else. My chest rising fast and hard as a pain started to rise in my chest, and then I let it out, let all my pent up emotions out of my system as I started to cry, letting the tears flow. And those tears, that cry, turned to a sob moments after. "Emily?" It was mom. I looked over at the door, at her face as she slipped into the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind her. "I... told you... to leave... me alone." I choked out between my sobs, trying to wipe the tears away as she came closer. "I can't do that, sweetheart," Mom said, kneeling down in front of me, reaching out to rub my back. I broke down more, sobbing harder than before. "Why are you so upset, sweetheart?" I looked up at her with my red eyes and puffy face, trying to catch my breath before answering. "Because... I don't... want to... be a... baby... anymore." Mom just kept smiling at me, kept rubbing my back as she let me cry some more. "Do you want a hug, sweetheart?" I nodded, still crying as I unfolded myself from the little ball that I had been curled up in. I slid near the edge of the seat and held my arms out to mom, letting her comfort me, letting her warmth embrace me as she hugged me close and tight. I buried my face in her neck, taking comfort in her familiar touch and smell, her loving presence, all of it helping me to calm down as she held me in her arms. "I'm sorry you're upset, sweetheart." "No your not." Mom paused after that, still holding me tight, rubbing my back as she hugged me. "Why don't we sit for a bit?" "Ok," I said, nodding, letting her stand up and pull me into her lap so that I was cradled in her arms on the rocking chair. She didn't say anything for a few minutes. She just rocked, humming softly as she rubbed my back, letting my tears slow to a stop over the minutes as I got my emotions back under control. I was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry, mommy," I said, and then the tears fell. "Hey, hey, hey, it's alright, sweetheart, it's alright," Mom cooed, rubbing my back, smiling at me as I choked my tears back once again. "Are... Are you mad at me?" There was a pause for a second. "No, I'm not mad," Mom said, "Sometimes we all have big emotions that are hard to control. I just want to make sure you're ok, and I want to know why you're so upset in the first place." I shifted in her lap, thinking back to what had made me so upset. Thinking back to all the frustration and boredom that had filled my body. "I don't want to be a baby anymore," I said, "It's boring." "That's alright, sweetheart, sometimes we don't like change because it's hard. And it's ok to be upset and tell others how you feel, but you can't yell at mommy or daddy and then go and break the rules, you have to talk to us, you have to tell us how you're feeling." "It's just hard." "What's hard?" "Talking about the way I feel." "And why is that hard?" "Because I don't know how I feel. Sometimes I feel happy and ok with being a toddler and other times it makes me mad and angry and frustrated. It's like I want to both be a big girl and a baby girl at the same time and I don't understand why." My eyes were starting to well up again with tears and mom used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe them away, still rocking me, still soothing me as she listened. "And that's perfectly alright, sweetheart, you're not always going to always like or be ok with what's going on, but that's why we talk about the way we feel so that daddy or I or both of us can help you navigate your feelings, alright?" I nodded. "I'm sorry." "You don't need to be sorry, sweetheart, if anything I should be saying sorry to you for not understanding your emotions." "It's ok, I forgive you." "Thank you." "But I still don't understand why I feel this way. I don't understand why I'm happy to be a toddler one day, like the other day at the grocery store, and then today I don't even want to look at any of the toys. It feels like I'm two different people right now, and I don't understand it." "You want to know what I think it is?" "What?" "I think that you're just finding it hard to let go and be a kid again." "What do you mean?" "Well, you're not two different people, sweetheart, you're still you when you're feeling bigger like today, and you're still you when you're feeling little like at the grocery store or at the park. Just sometimes the situation makes it easier to let go and forget. When you're feeling stressed or anxious it can be easy to revert back to a time when you felt safe and secure. And at the same time, when you feel safe and loved and cared for, any shame or embarrassment you have with acting or behaving like a toddler disappears and you let yourself sink back to that headspace." "But how do I do that?" "You know what, sweetheart, why don't I show you?" "How are you going to show me?" "We're going to go play with some toys and have a little fun." "But all the toys you gave me are boring, they're meant for a toddler." "You didn't seem to have any problem playing with them the other day." "Ya, but it was different, I was feeling little then." "Don't worry, I've got an idea." "What is it?" Mom slipped me from her lap, standing me on the ground. "Come on, I'll show you," She said, heading for the hallway. I followed her out into the hallway and to the spot where the attic ladder was. Mom grabbed the string holding the door closed and pulled it, opening up the spot in the ceiling and letting the ladder open up. Mom turned back to me, holding out her hand. "I bet there are some more toys from when you were younger stored away up there, why don't we go and see if you want to play with anything?" "Ok," I said, smiling, intrigued by this little adventure mom was putting together. I took her hand and let her guide me in front of her so that she could climb up close behind me, making sure that I didn't slip and fall. "Be careful, sweetheart," Mom said, her hand on my butt as I started to climb. "I'm being careful." Moments later, we were both standing in the attic. Its corners were hidden away in a frightening darkness until mom switched on the little light hanging from the rafters. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. Still, I couldn't help but feel a little scared with the unknown and darkness that was the attic. Something mom seemed to sense. "You're alright, sweetheart, I'm right behind you." I turned to face mom, a bit of worry flashing in my eyes as I grabbed her hand. She smiled, squeezing back, reassuring me as she led me over to a corner where a couple of tote buckets were stacked. "Now, I'm not sure what stuff is where, so we're just going to have to keep looking through them until you find something you want to play with." "It's like a surprise box," I said, that feeling of excitement returning as let my hand slide from mom's. And I watched her pull the first box down, setting it down between us. She pulled the top off and we both peered inside. It was a collection of my old children's books, boring. "Definitely not these," I said my attention already shifting to the next box. "You used to love these when you were younger," Mom said, reaching down to pick up one of the books. "I used to read to you every night before you went to bed, you wouldn't go to sleep otherwise." "Why don't you read to me now?" "You know, I just didn't think about it," Mom said, putting the book back. "Why don't daddy and I pull some down later, and then we can read a story before bed tonight." "Yes, please," I said, pulling on the top of the next box. "Here, let me help you, sweetheart," Mom said, easily removing the top. Again, we both peered inside, waiting to see what was inside. It was Play-Doh, a lot of really old and dried up Play-Doh. But there were still all the add ons that allowed you to make all sorts of things from kitchen stuff to cany to little animals. "Can we play with this, mommy?" I asked reaching into the box, digging through to see what all was in there. "Hmm, I don't think this one is happening today, sweetheart, it's been sitting too long," Mom said, reaching for another box. "But we can get some more and play another day if you'd like." "Can we?" "Absolutely." My attention shifted again to the third box as mom set it down. Again, she pulled the top off and we both peered inside. My eyes went wide with excitement this time and I started to jump up and down with giddy excitement like a child on Christmas morning. The little, brown logs bringing back endless days of fun and joy from my childhood. "Lincoln Logs!" Mom laughed as I started to dig through the bucket and pull parts and pieces out. "Why don't we take this downstairs and play in the living room," She said, coaxing the pieces from my hands before dropping them back in the bucket. "Alright," I said, jumping back up, "Come on, mommy, hurry, let's go." "In a minute, sweetheart, slow down for a second, mommy has to put these other boxes back, and then we can go play." Minutes later, mom set the box of Lincoln Logs down on the living room floor and pulled the top off, letting me have at it. I started to dig and pull out the pieces, humming to myself as I set off building a little house. Mom was starting her own little pile of logs, starting to build a structure of her own. "What are you building over there, sweetheart?" "A house," I said, beaming a smile her way as I moved so she could see. "Do you like it?" "I love it," She said, making me giggle, "And what is your house for?" "I don't know yet," I said, grabbing yet another piece and fitting it into place. "Right now it's just a house." "Well, if build a house too then we'll have two houses." And just like that, a light bulb went off in my head. "We could make a village!" I said, "And then we could make a castle and dragon could come and attack it! Just like a fairytale! And then we could have one of my dolls fight off the dragon and save the town!" Mom laughed. "One thing at a time, sweetheart, let's get these houses finished first and then we can worry about building a village." "Ok," I said, my imagination racing and playing out every scene in my head as I continued to build, as I continued to play, letting any sense of time or the world around me slip away as I became absorbed in the moment. I let myself slip back to that happy place in my mind where all the cares and worries of the world disappeared, where I truly was a toddler. It was easier to stay there, like when we were at the grocery store, it was easier to stay there than to try and act like the big girl I knew I wasn't. Acting big was tough and energy-consuming and brought sadness and tears and frustrations with it. But being little was easy and fun and brought joy and laughter and fun with it. And soon, one hour turned to two hours, and our two houses turned to six houses as we made progress with our little village. Mom had even helped me build a little farm area where animals could run around and play. At some point, there had been a familiar build-up in my bladder, a familiar urge, but I had paid no mind to it as I played, ignoring the need to pee. Rather, I relaxed, letting it go, not caring, not thinking, as I let warm urine flood into the padding of my diaper. I didn't even tell mom, playing was too much fun to stop and worry about something as silly as a wet diaper. A diaper change would only pull me away from my newfound toys. And then naptime came. "Alright, sweetheart," Mom said, sitting back from the building she was working on. "It's about time for your nap." "No," I whined, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes, not wanting to stop playing. "Ya, it is," Mom said, standing up and stretching her legs. "Now what do you say we go and get you laid down in your crib for some sleepies." "But mommy, I'm not tired," I whined again, still playing, still building the little village that has started to take up residence in the living room. "Oh, but with that tone, you must be a sleepy girl," Mom said, walking over to me, reaching down to pick me up from the ground. "And you have a wet diaper," She said, patting my wet bottom, "When did you go pee-pee, sweetheart?" "I don't know," I said, laying my head against her shoulder, slipping my thumb into my mouth. Mom bounced me as she carried me towards the stairs, making me whimper more as I pointed back towards the living room, back towards my toys. "No, you can't go back and play, sweetheart, it's naptime," Mom said, patting my bottom again. "And where did you leave your pacifier? You haven't used it the entire day." She was right. I hadn't used it since my tantrum this morning. And I had no idea where I had left it. Worry crossed over my face, a few tears started to form as my bottom lip trembled. I wanted my pacifier, and I had no idea where it was. I wanted to panic with that thought, with the thought of losing my comfort object. I needed it, more so than I realized. "Hey, hey, it's alright, sweetheart," Mom cooed, moving up the stairs, "We'll just get you another one for now and mommy will find your other one while you sleep, ok?" I nodded, settling back down onto her shoulder as my thumb found its way back to my mouth, understanding but not thrilled with her solution. Moments later, we were back in mom and dad's bedroom, back with that familiar nursery scent, that smell that was so calming and comforting. Mom laid me down on the changing table and reached into one of the drawers pulling out a fresh pacifier, gently replacing my thumb with its soothing nipple. And I suckled it, laying loose and limp as she pulled my shorts off my legs and tugged my shirt free from my body, leaving me in only my wet diaper. But still, I didn't struggle, didn't fuss. I just laid back, enjoying the moment, enjoying being cared for as she fanned out a fresh diaper and popped open the tub of baby wipes. And then the tapes of my diaper were ripped off and the familiar, soothing coolness of a baby wipe worked over my diaper bits, taking with it the dampness of my pee. It made me smile behind my pacifier. Made me smile at how lovingly mom went about changing my diaper. How gentle and thorough she was. How she seemed to enjoy the bonding moment as much as I did, humming to herself as she worked the wipe across my bottom now. And then my legs were lowered onto a thick, fresh diaper. She smoothed a dusting of powder over my butt and privates and then taped the diaper up nice and snug. "Alright, sweetheart, let's get you tucked in," Mom whispered lifting me from the changing table. She carried me over to my crib and laid me gently inside, taking care to make sure that my head was resting comfortably on the pillow and making sure that the blanket was tucked snuggly around my body. And then the lights were off and she was gone. I laid there for a moment, enjoying the warm bulk of my diaper as my eyes started to close, as my mind started to drift, slipping off into sleep. And then I was jerked awake as my pacifier was pulled from my mouth, my eyes widening in shock before settling back down as another nipple was slipped into my mouth. I suckled it, receiving a warm stream of formula. That familiar, thick, sweet, substance flowing out over my tongue. It was comforting. I suckled more, nursing as my hands reached up, grabbing the baby bottle that had been placed in my mouth. The warm formula filled my tummy with a reassuring warmth allowing my eyes to close again, allowing my mind to drift back to sleep. "Good girl," Mom whispered, kissing me on the cheek. "Mommy loves you, baby girl." I smiled at her words as she slipped out of the room again, leaving me to nurse in peace. She had been right. It was easy to be little, to allow myself to slip into this state of being loved and cared for, to stop worrying about all those silly adult things that kept making me angry and upset. I didn't like those feelings, didn't like being big. This is what I want, this is what makes me happy. A clean diaper, a warm crib, and a comforting bottle. I liked being a baby. Hey everyone ? If you're enjoying this story then please consider subscribing to my Patreon Page. It's only $5 a month and with that awesome donation, I can spend more of my time writing and bringing content to the community. Thank you!!!

Chapter 5: Life Continues I looked out the car window, watching as people flocked back and forth from the store. It was busy. There had been a slight panic growing in my stomach all morning, making me feel nauseous. A feeling of fear and dread for what lay ahead. I knew it was just Publix, knew it was just a trip to the grocery store, and yet it was so much more. "Mommy, do we have to?" I asked, my eyes pleading with her, hoping she would change her mind at the last second. Hoping that we would turn around and go back home. "Sweetheart, mommy already told you that we need to go shopping, and I can't leave you home alone by yourself." "But..." "no buts." I huffed, sitting back in my car seat, pouting. "I don't want to." "Emily..." The warning was stern, and mom's look as she climbed out of the car made it known that I should stop while I was ahead. She crossed over to my side of the car and opened the door. I gave her one more pitiful look as she unbuckled me from the car seat, lifting me down to the ground before reaching back in for my diaper bag. "At least I was dressed with some sort of dignity," I thought, looking down at the shorts and shirt set mom had dressed me in. The shorts were a simple pink with white leg cuffs. The material was stretchy and hugged my diaper, doing nothing to hide the thick bulge underneath. The shirt was white with pink outlining around the sleeves and collar, it had little shoulder straps sewn on similar to a baby's onesie. On my feet were a pair of pink and white sneakers with white socks underneath. The outfit was cute, for a toddler. "Come on, sweetheart," Mom said, holding her hand out to me, waiting for me to take hold. I didn't want to, didn't want to leave the car, didn't want to be seen. Mom stepped towards me, making the decision for me as she grabbed my hand. "Emily, come on, sweetheart, let's go." Reluctantly, I followed, letting her lead me through the parking lot; our first shopping trip together as mommy and toddler in a great many years. I Had avoided this very moment for over a week now, had avoided being seen by so many people. I had made every excuse under the sun to keep mom from taking me out, and today had been the day she decided enough was enough. The only other time I had been out of the house was the trip to the park last weekend, but that had been deserted compared to this. I trudged across the parking lot, trying to slow our pace, trying to keep the inevitable from happening as we made our way closer to the entrance. That feeling of dread and fear increasing with each step. It was just a grocery store, the same one I had been to a hundred times. It was just another everyday chore, and yet it was so scary, so new. I had never realized how many people were here before, but now, each and every person was a threat, was somebody who would see me dressed like a baby, diaper and all. I felt like I was going to be sick. "Emily..." Mom said, looking down at me, trying to pull me along, trying to get me to walk faster. "We don't have all day, sweetheart." I shook my head, pulled away from her. "Please, mommy, don't make me go in there." My eyes were starting to water as tears took form, as that panic manifested inside of me, all those emotions, all that fear and dread. Mom sighed, looking impatient and yet understanding. As though she were just dealing with another fussy toddler. "Sweetheart, nobody will see anything but an adorable little girl out shopping with her mommy." "Promise?" "Promise," Mom said, picking me up, settling me on her hip. She grabbed the pacifier dangling from my shirt and slipped it into my mouth, holding it there as she waited for me to suckle. And suckle I did, trying to soothe myself with the comfort of the soft nipple. "Are you going to be ok now?" I waited for a second before nodding, the look of fear still in my eyes as I clung to her shirt, uneasy as she carried me into the store, suckling the pacifier even harder as I tried to comfort myself. My eyes darted from person to person, waiting to see some kind of recognition in their eyes, waiting for them to realize that I wasn't actually a toddler. The clanging of shopping carts pulled my attention back to mom, back to the cart she was setting my diaper bag in. "Can you sit down for me, sweetheart?" She asked, moving me from her hip, helping me to slide each of my feet through the leg holes on the cart. I hadn't sat in one in years. "Sweetheart, can you let go of mommy please?" I nodded releasing the death grip I had on her shirt, taking hold of the handrail instead, looking up at her with my worried face as I shuffled about on the hard, plastic seat, trying to get comfortable. It was the one and only time I had been glad to be wearing a diaper, the thick padding providing at least some cushioning for my bottom. Mom pushed the cart into the store, smiling at me as she walked. It was weird riding backward, and yet comforting at the same time. Being able to see mom, being able to have her close made me feel safe. And at the same time, not knowing where we were going, not knowing who was behind me let that feeling of anxiety and fear continue to flourish. As mom walked, my eyes continued to dart from person to person, that look of worry still on my face as I scanned each and every face I saw. And still, nobody had stopped to gawk and stare, nobody had stopped to point and laugh, nobody really seemed to care, they were all caught up in their own little worlds. And the ones who did see me, who did acknowledge me, smiled and waved, mouthing 'hi' as though I were baby. And that brought me sweet relief. Mom leaned forward, kissing me on the forehead, her hands brushing over mine on the handrail, rubbing them gently. "you can relax, sweetheart. I promise nobody will know, nobody will care." I hadn't realized how hard I had been squeezing the handrail, how hard I had been nursing my pacifier. I nodded at her, letting my grip lighten, easing up on the pacifier, but still suckling it, still soothing myself as mom pushed the cart through the store. "I know something that will cheer you up," Mom said, passing through the produce area. It was always our first stop in the store. Only, mom kept pushing me along, passing it by. "How about we go and get a cookie." I looked up at her, confused, unsure of what to make of the question. We had never stopped to get cookies before. Mom chuckled. "Would you like a cookie? We can go get one if you'd like?" I craned my neck, trying to turn around to see where mom was pushing me. It was the bakery section, the sweet smell of baked bread wafted from the counter, but that wasn't what my eyes settled on, that wasn't what mom was pushing me towards. She was heading right for the cookie club. The free cookies. They were meant for little kids. And I was a... I was a little kid, I was a toddler. That meant I got a free cookie. The realization dawned on me as mom pulled the cart beside the case so I could see the selection. It still didn't seem true. I looked back up at mom, my eyes asking her if I could have one, waiting for her permission before getting my hopes up. She chuckled. "would you like one?" I nodded, turning back to the case, my eyes beaming with excitement as I pointed at the chocolate chip cookies. "I want that one," I mumbled around the pacifier. "Can I help you, mam?" The voice made me jump and my eyes wandered upwards, making eye contact with the guy standing behind the counter. He was young, his face still immature. "Here for a cookie?" He asked, smiling at me, his voice was higher now, using a tone reserved for small children. I blushed turning away from him, hiding my face as my cheeks turned red. "Sorry she's a bit shy," Mom said to the guy, giving him a small smile before looking back down at me. "But she would love a cookie." "Well then, you're just in time," He said, "These just came out the oven a few minutes ago." "Ohh, yummy," Mom said, rubbing my back. "Which one do you want sweetheart? The chocolate chip? I nodded. "Can she get a chocolate chip, please?" "A wise choice," The guy said, "One chocolate chip for the princess coming right up." I let a small smile slip at the nickname and his silliness before turning back to watch, sneaking a glance as he pulled the cookie from the case. He caught me watching him and smiled again, giving me a little wave through the glass. The smile was warm and inviting, kind. I didn't feel the need to turn away again, to hide, I felt comfortable around him. "Here you are, madam," He said, reaching over the counter, holding the cookie out to me. I looked up at mom once more, making sure it was ok to take the cookie, asking once more for her permission. "Well, go on sweetheart, it's your cookie." Smiling, I reached out and grabbed it from the guy, pulling it close, feeling its warmth in my hands. He was right, they did just come out of the oven. "Can you say thank you, sweetheart?" I looked up at him, meeting his kind smile once more. "Thank you," I whispered, my words coming out slurred around the pacifier, making me sound like a toddler. "You're most welcome," The guy said, taking a bow, making me giggle at last before turning to mom. "She's a tough cookie to crack, but I always get a laugh." He chuckled at his own joke, waving to us as mom started to push the cart again. "Have a good one, mam." Thank you, you too." I peered around mom, watching the guy disappear into the back as mom pushed me back to the produce section. I let the pacifier fall from my mouth. "He was funny," I said, giggling at how silly he had acted. "He was," Mom said, pushing me along, stopping every now and then to add something to our cart. "He just wanted to see that beautiful smile of yours." I giggled, swinging my legs happily as I stared at the cookie in my hands, happy with my reward. I took a bite, letting the warm cookie melt in my mouth as it's chocolaty goodness spread over my tastebuds. "Mmmm." "Is it good?" "Uh-huh," I said, taking another bite, swinging my legs happily as mom continued to shop. The word around me seeming to fade away, to become less important as I focused on my cookie, paying no mind to all the people I had been so worried about. It felt good to be treated so young, felt good to be rewarded for simple things like coming to the grocery store. She came back with a bag of bags of vegetables, nothing I paid much attention to, nor that I could see as it was placed in the cart behind my back. I didn't need to worry about stuff like that, didn't need to let my brain get caught up in such adult responsibilities. My only job was to sit still and eat my cookie. And I had no problem doing that at all, had no problem pretending to be a toddler. As mom wandered off again, grabbing more things, I stuffed the last bite of the cookie into my mouth, savoring the last bite before it was gone. And then I did the next logical thing to do, I turned to my fingers, licking the leftover chocolate off them, paying no mind to how it looked or what others thought, paying no mind to the chocolate smeared on my face. "You are covered in chocolate, sweetheart," Mom said, coming back to the cart, pushing me forward again, walking to the next aisle. I giggled at her, continuing to lick my fingers as she pulled the cart over to the side. She went around the cart, behind my back, and started to rummage around in the diaper bag. When she came back, she had a baby wipe in her hand and stood in front of me, watching me for a minute before saying anything. "Are you done eating your fingers, sweetheart?" I giggled, nodding at her as I held my hands out, letting her wipe down each of my fingers and then my face all the while I was laughing at her, giggling, resisting playfully. Once she finished cleaning me up, she slipped the pacifier back into my mouth, holding her finger to her lips, letting me know I was being too loud as she continued to push the cart further down the aisle. I suckled the pacifier, enjoying the feel of the soft nipple as mom went back to shopping. All I had cared about in that moment was having fun, there was no thought of what was proper and what was improper, no understanding of social rules. I had acted like a toddler, and it felt good. It felt good not to worry, felt good not to care, felt good to have all that fear and anxiety melt away as I grew comfortable with being in the store. It was beginning to get easier to pretend to be the happy, little, carefree toddler everyone saw me as. When everyone around me viewed me in that light, it was easy to slip away into that headspace and forget about being a big girl for a second. And so, I sat in the cart, suckling my pacifier, smiling and swinging my legs like a happy child while mom shopped, taking me down aisle after aisle. My eyes still searching each and every face that passed us by, but it was for a different reason now. It wasn't out of fear of being seen, but rather out of wanting to be seen. The kind smiles and little waves people gave me as they walked by made me feel cute and little, made me feel happy. And I giggled at each and every one of them. Putting on a show for them as I waved back, smiling with wide, bright eyes, enjoying being the center of attention, enjoying being the baby. Only there was an ever-growing problem, an ever-growing urge. A familiar tight stretch, a pressure in my bladder. I needed to pee and it was becoming ever more uncomfortable as I held it in, letting that pressure build. I started to squirm in my seat, squeezing my legs together to keep from having an accident. Something that had been so far ingrained in my mind; it was bad to have accidents. Only little babies had accidents. And then I realized what I was wearing, realized how I was acting. I was a diaper wearing-toddler, I was supposed to use my diapers, it was natural to use my diapers. And so I let it go, focusing off in the distance, letting my body relax as the warm pee soaked into my diaper. It felt good to be rid of that pressure, that uncomfortable feeling in my bladder. "Good girl," Mom said, smiling at me as she patted my knee. I blushed at her praise. I hadn't realized she knew, hadn't realized she was watching as I wet my diaper. The thought of it was embarrassing, but it quickly left my mind as I felt something else. Another pressure was there, deep in my belly. A straining pull. I needed to go potty. I needed to poop. "Mommy..." I whined, spitting out my pacifier, trying to get her attention. "Mommy..." She turned to look at me, her soft smile still showing. "What is it, sweetheart?" "I need to go potty." "You just went potty, sweetheart," She laughed, walking over to me, playing with my hair. "No, mommy... I need to go potty." I said, that look of worry settling back over my face. Mom still smiled, still played with my hair, comforting me, not looking surprised or acting concerned. "That's alright, sweetheart," She said, "You can go potty, and then we'll go and get your diaper changed." I shook my head, squirming in my seat, holding back the waiting poo that was inching ever closer. "Mommy, please..." "Emily, baby, it's not a big deal, sweetheart, just go and I'll change you afterward." I continued shaking my head, sitting back in the seat as tears formed in my eyes. I kept squeezing my legs together, refusing to commit such an infantile act in public. Sure, I had messed my diaper at home, had let mom change me, but that was at home, and we were at the store. Those tears that had been forming in my eyes started to run down my face as mom pushed me down yet another aisle. I could feel myself losing the fight, could feel my sphincter muscles giving out, letting the warm mush squish out into my diaper, spreading out over my bottom as I was forced to sit the mess, my eyes going wide with shock as it all happened. In my dazed state, I hadn't noticed the strong infantile smell in the aisle. I looked over at the shelves and my eyes were met with a wall of diapers. The children printed on the packages seemed to stare back at me, mocking me for the accident I had just had in my pants, mocking me for needing diapers like some little baby. My bottom lip trembled, and I couldn't help but let all those emotions bundled up inside of me explode out. All the fear, all the anxiety, all the happiness, all the giggles, the smiles, the excitement, the stress all of it, it was all too much. I started to breathe heavier, started to panic, letting the tears flow faster now as I started to cry, in a tantrum fit for a toddler. And it finally got mom's attention. She turned back to me from the diapers she was looking at, came to comfort me, pulled my head into her chest as she hugged me, trying to soothe me, trying to stop me from having a meltdown in the middle of the store. "Emily, sweetheart, you're fine baby, what's the matter?" Mom asked, rubbing my back, and then she sniffed the air, smelled what I had done in my diaper. "Oh, baby, it's ok, you're alright, mommy will get you changed." But it wasn't alright, I had messed my diaper, right in the middle of the store, just like a baby, like some little, helpless baby. And that was my breaking point, that was my last straw. "Uh-oh, somebodies a little upset." It was a new voice, a woman's, soft and sweet, coming from behind me. Mom looked up and smiled at the stranger. "Yes, I think we've had a little too much of the store today." The woman laughed. "I think we have to." I turned to see who it was and my heart sank, I froze in my seat. It was a mother and her daughter. A little toddler, sitting in a shopping cart. A toddler just, just like me. Only she was a real toddler and I was just pretending to be one. Or that's at least what I told myself. There was no difference between us. The tears on her face matched mine, only her cries were being silenced by the pacifier in her mouth, the bulge of her diaper under her dress made it known that she was wet and in need of a change. We were the same. I cried harder. Mom offered me the pacifier, trying to coax it into my mouth, trying to stop the flow of tears. "No..." I choked out, pushing her hands away. "Emily, baby," Mom cooed, pleading with me, "It will help calm you down, sweetheart." But I didn't want to be calmed down, I didn't want to be soothed and cooed at like I was a baby. I wanted her to understand the way I felt, I wanted her to understand that I was uncomfortable and upset and angry and tired. I wanted her to understand that I wasn't a baby. Mom turned to the lady, still holding my pacifier. "I don't understand, one minute they're fine and the next they're screaming and crying." "Yep, little Addison here is a bit grouchy and ready for her nap." "I think Emily needs a nap too, but first I need to get her pants changed." "I... I'm not... tired." I said between my sobs wiping trying to wipe the tears off my face. "Maybe not," Mom said, offering me the pacifier again, "But you do need your diaper changed." I hiccupped once more watching as people stopped on their way to look down the aisle, curious to see who the crying baby was. It was enough to get me to listen to mom, and I finally let her slip the pacifier into my mouth, suckling it automatically as the tears continued to stream down my face. I didn't want to be here anymore. I wanted to go back home. I wanted to go and play with my toys and snuggle up in my crib and forget this day ever happened. "See, I told you it would help," Mom cooed, rubbing my back as she pulled my head against her chest, comforting me once again. "well, I better go get this little one changed. It was nice talking to you though. "It was," The woman said, "Hopefully are little terrors didn't scare everyone away." They both laughed at that one and then they were gone. It was just me and mom in the aisle. "Do you feel better, sweetheart?" I nodded, letting her pull away from me, suckling my pacifier as I tried to ignore the uncomfortable mess I was sitting on. "Are you ready to go change your diaper?" Again, I nodded. Mom turned the cart around and started to push me to the back of the store. I suckled in my seat, and when we reached the end of the aisle, I looked down the long strip in the back of the store. My cheeks flushed red darting between all the eyes watching me, all the eyes looking at my tear-streaked face, as mom headed for the bathrooms. If they hadn't smelled me by now, they had to know I was being taken for a diaper change. And it was humiliating. "Mommy, please don't change me here," I said, looking up at her. "Sweetheart, where else am I going to change you?" She asked, grabbing the diaper bag from the cart. "I can't leave you sitting in a messy diaper." "What about the car?" "Do you really want to keep sitting in a dirty diaper while I finish shopping?" "No..." I said, letting her lift me from the cart. "Then let's go change your diaper." Mom carried me into the woman's restroom, thankfully, the one person inside was leaving as we entered. The baby changing station was on the far wall and mom set me down on my feet while she got ready to change my diaper. And I watched, shifting uncomfortably with the poop stuck to my bottom as mom opened the baby changing station before sitting the diaper bag down. She laid out my changing mat on top of the changing station followed by a fresh diaper, wipes, and powder. "Alright, up you go, baby," She said, laying me back on my back. I suckled my pacifier, trying to ignore the change as mom pulled my shorts down, exposing my soiled diaper. I stared anxiously at the door, waiting for someone to walk in as mom untaped my diaper, lifting my legs to wipe the poop off my bottom. A wet wipe followed, cleaning off any remaining poop on my backside, taking that uncomfortable sticky feeling away with it. It felt good to be changed, relaxing, comforting. I let my mind start to wander and then the door squeaked. My eyes shot to the door, to the woman walking in. I froze in place, terrified by her presence, my eyes showing the concern and fear I held inside. She walked in, glanced in my direction, saw me lying naked on the changing table having my diaper changed. And the only thing she did was smile at me as she walked by and disappeared into a stall. Neither she nor mom seemed phased at all by the passing. And then I realized that in her mind, I was just another baby having her diaper changed. She didn't see me as a big girl, she saw me as a baby. Just like all those people earlier. Even if I had had a meltdown, even if I had messed my diaper, their view of me didn't change, they still saw me as a baby, probably more so than before. I smiled. Soon after, mom was sitting me back in the cart, pushing me off to yet another aisle so that she could finish up shopping. And I was much happier. Being in a clean, fresh diaper felt much better compared to the soiled thing I had been in before. I was comfortable again, content. And all those people were still wandering the aisles, still smiling at me, still waving at me, uncaring that I had pooped myself. And I giggled and smiled back at them, happy to be the center of attention once again. Happy to be in a clean diaper.

I closed my door with a soft click before turning off the lights, leaving my room in a state of semi-darkness with the evening light, a sense of calm. I made my way over to my dresser where the music player sat. The CD mom had gotten me was already loaded up from its last playthrough, all I had to do was hit play and smile as the soft, soothing nursery rhymes filled the room. Mom had gotten me the CD a few weeks back as a gift. A set of six nursery rhymes that she told me to listen to on a loop. She wanted me to try them all. I hadn't been so sure at first, but now I was hooked. I loved each one of them, loved the state of mind they brought me to, that feeling of warmth and peace, of comfort and safety. There was no other way to replicate it. No other way to describe it. It just made everything feel ok. Turning around, I made for my crib, flopping onto the mattress as I eyed the pink pacifier laying in the corner. Without a second thought, I popped the infantile thing into my mouth, taking comfort in the soothing nipple as I suckled it. The music, the pacifier, the crib, it all made me feel cute and little. Like a baby. It let little me shine, a part of me that had been hidden away for too long. I laid back on the mattress, my head hitting the pillow with a deep sight. I continued to suckle the pacifier, staring up at the ceiling, watching the fan blades go around and around, staring off into nothing as the sweet sounds of nursery rhymes filled my ears. It was just so easy to lay back and forget. So easy to close my eyes and let my mind wander. So easy to pretend that I was a baby getting ready for her nap. It was so calming and peaceful. As I listened, I felt an urge building in my bladder, a tightness. It was my body letting me know that it was time to pee. I squeezed for a second, holding back the waiting flow, letting that need to release build-up, that pinch, as years of potty training took over. It was instinct to hold it, to wait for a toilet. An instinct that I was working to forget. I relaxed, breathing out as I released my bladder, letting the warm pee flood into the thick, soft padding of my diaper. I smiled to myself, enjoying the warm and heavy feeling as my diaper expanded. It was a strange thought: To be a senior in high school and wearing a diaper, to be using a diaper. It was something I had never thought would happen. But then again, this year had been full of the unexpected. Things had happened that nobody could have predicted. Things that nobody could have planned for. We were all along for the wild ride that had become 2020. I let my mind wander further. Think more. The soothing sound of the music merging into the background as my mind processed everything, drifting into thought. Life had changed so much in such a short time. Just this time last year, I had been sitting at a pencil scratched, gum grave, rickety, old desk surrounded by zombified students, with a teacher who was old enough to have taught Lincoln, all boxed in by bleak, white walls. It was a concrete prison. School. It had been the daily norm for millions. Wake up, go to school, go to clubs or practice or a job, home for homework and family, and then finally to bed. It was a never-ending cycle, only relieved by all too short weekends packed with friends, parties, and trouble. It was the typical life of a teenaged girl. And I hated it. Hated waking up in the morning to join the masses in a daily ritual of educational brainwashing. Hated the cliche groups and sports teams that made life a living hell. Hated the administration and teachers that seemed out to get you every second of every day. Hated every single bit of it. My dream had always been to leave it all behind. To graduate. To go to college. To start my life. That had always been the dream. To leave high school and never look back. And then Sam happened. Well, Sam had always been there. She had been part of the cliche groups ruining my life from day one, she had been their leader. And I hated her for it. It was impossible to tell when it had all started. Preschool? Kindergarten? First grade? Honestly, we had probably come out of the womb hating each other. And that was a fact of life. There was no other way around it. We had been making each other miserable since day one. To be friends wasn't an option. It was unthinkable. Impossible. And then that all changed in a matter of seconds. Sam had dropped something from her locker. A single, identifying object. One no ABDL would ever mistake. Pink and fluffy and rectangular, it hadn't made a sound when it bounced off the floor. Nobody had seen it, nobody had noticed. But I had, I had seen it. And I knew exactly what it was. I had the same exact brand back home, buried deep in my closest, stuffed into an old suitcase. An ABU BunnyHopps, four tapes. The design was distinct. A colorful mix of pinks and purples and blues seared into my memory. It made me freeze, made my heart skip a beat, made time standstill. Sam, with a diaper. With a BunnyHopps. It couldn't have been. Shouldn't have been. But I had seen it clear as day, and when we finally made eye contact, the look on Sam's face made it known that I hadn't been mistaken. That my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I had been right. Sam was an ABDL... just like me. My enemy... An ABDL... just like me. It didn't seem possible. I didn't want it to be possible. And yet it was. It was a fact of life. And in that time, in that short, brief moment of life, an inseparable bond had been formed. A friendship for life. There had been a week of tension, more so than usual. There was a look of fear and vulnerability in Sam's eyes every time we passed in the hallway. The sadness held within them waiting for me to spread rumors throughout the school, waiting for me to expose her secret to everyone. But I never did, I didn't want to. I wanted to talk, wanted to relate to someone who had the same interests and desires I had. I wanted a connection. And so, I slipped her a note, asked her to meet me somewhere to talk. A week later, we were sitting outside the local Twistee Treat, staring in awkward silence as we ate ice cream. She had been the one to break the silence first, asking why. It was a simple question, and yet so heavy. I had thought for a moment, building up my own courage. And then I told her that I too liked BunnyHopps. It was discrete, short, honest. To any normal person, it wouldn't have meant anything, but it made Sam's eyes widen in shock as the realization of my statement settled in. All that hate, all that misery that had been built up over the years melted away in that one instant, in that single second. It marked a turning point in both of our lives. So much happened in such a short time. We started talking more, started to hang out. Our ice cream dates turned to slumber parties and movie theater trips. We talked about ABDL, talked about the difficulties and anxieties we had, wore together for the first time. We became comfortable around each other. We became best friends. Even our moms started to talk and hang out. Soon after that, they hit it off and started to date. Family dinners became a thing after that, all of us together, laughing, smiling, and having a good time. We watched movies together, played games, went hiking on the weekends. It felt like we were a family. Sam and I even built up the courage one day and told our moms about ABDL. And to our surprise, neither of them seemed to care. In fact, they seemed ok with it all, curious, interested even. It was what led us to be more open with our little sides, what got us the crib and the diapers. What we hadn't known was that our moms missed being more involved, missed having little ones to care for. And ABDL filled that gap for all of us. After years of hiding, after years of not feeling accepted by those around us, we finally had a support structure, finally felt loved for who we were. Life was good. It felt as though we were on top of the world, incapable of being thrown from our throne. And then the pandemic hit. Covid-19 they called it, the plight of the century, the mark of 2020, a year to never forget. School was thrust online, friends were torn from one another, and months of quarantine were in store. Somehow, life had gone from perfect too bad to worse. Everything had been torn down and broken apart just when things were finally going my way. It was life's way of saying fuck you. And yet, somehow, our little makeshift family hung on. Through all the craziness that been thrown on top of us, despite all the changes to our lives, somehow, our bonds had grown stronger, and all of us closer. We poured our lives and feelings and experiences out to one another, learning new things about each other that we would have never guessed, things that we would have never known. We left ourselves ever more vulnerable, ever more open to betrayal and the pain and suffering it would cause. And yet, we continued. We continued because we trusted one another. We both finally had someone that understood us. Someone who understood our desires, who understood the skeletons we had buried deep within us. We could finally share our love of diapers and our ABDL sides, could finally explore this wonderful world together. We had become sisters. "Madi..." With the world collapsing on top of us we had a pocket of air. "Madi!." A source of relief and happiness. "MADI!.." A... I snapped back to reality mid-thought. Pausing for a moment, waiting for my mind to catch up. The monologue of my thoughts retreating to the depths of my brain. My eyes opened to bright light. It was shocking compared to the darkness there had been. I blinked, rubbed my eyes as they adjusted to the light. Mom was standing by the door. I popped the pacifier out. "Were you calling me?" "I was," She said, walking over to the music player, turning it off. "It was quiet for a bit and I figured I should come and check on you. Everything ok?" "Ya, I was just thinking about stuff." "Anything in particular?" "Life." "What about life?" "I don't know, just... like... just how Sam and I spend so long at each other's throats that we never took a break to actually get to know each other... Didn't take the time to be friends... And then, when we finally do become friends, best friends, the world just decides to throw an entire pandemic at us." We made eye contact, I gave mom my signature self-pity and the world hates me look. Something that had ceased to bother her over the years. "Well, that's life sweetheart," She sighed. I rolled over onto my stomach, burying my head in my pillow. "Well, life sucks." I felt mom sit down, felt her hand rubbing my back. "I know, I know, but look on the bright side, at least you became friends before all this, otherwise you may never have been friends at all. And then I wouldn't have met Jennifer and neither of us would have gotten our baby girls back." Mom said, teasing me with the baby bit as she patted my diapered bottom. "Do you want your diaper changed?" I rolled over, looking up at her, smiling. "No, not yet. It's still warm, I kind of like it." "You always did," Mom teased again, smiling back, "Well, let me know when you get tired of sitting in that soggy thing and I'll come and change that cute, little butt of yours." "Mom!" "What?" She asked, playing innocent. "I get to have a little fun at least, right? I mean I am the one buying all this stuff." She had a point with that one. "Ya, but I'm not an actual baby, I can change my own diapers." "You're closer to being my baby than you realize, sweetheart." She said standing up, pausing for a moment, thinking. "A big baby, but still a baby." "Whatever." "Love you too, sweetheart," She said ignoring my comment, heading for the door. She paused one last time, looked back at me. "I noticed you were listening to that CD, how is it?" "It's good. It helps me to forget and relax... It's actually pretty addicting, I can see why babies love them so much." "Good," Mom said, her voice was softer this time, quieter, "That means they're working." I was left with a weird feeling in my gut as she left. What had she meant by there working? Why had she said I was closer to being a baby than I realized? It was already awkward enough when mom talked to me as though I were an actual baby. When she treated me as though I were an actual baby. The baby talk, the diaper pats, being asked if I needed my diaper changed. But tonight, it had been different, stranger. It felt like she was enjoying it all too much, like she was too excited. No. I shook those thoughts from my head, pushed them from my mind. It wasn't right of me to think that way. Not after everything she had done for me. It was probably just her way of showing that she loved and supported me. That I didn't need to feel ashamed of liking diapers. Besides, I kind of liked the attention. All those little interactions made my heart flutter with an indescribable joy. Like a child running down the stairs on Christmas morning. The feeling was priceless. Magical. A buzz filled the room followed by a slight ping. No matter how much I wanted to be a baby, no matter how much I pretended to be a baby, there were just some things a teenager couldn't leave behind. Some things had been too far ingrained. The cellphone was already in my hands, the message flashing across my screen. It was from Sam. i need to talk to u NOW!!! This had to be good. A little extra drama to finish off the night, why not? what is it? Seconds passed; the message indicator showed in the bottom left corner. Sam was typing. My eyes stayed locked on the screen, waiting for the juicy details to appear. its my mom, shes going crazy... shes treating me like im an actual baby Not the kind of drama I was expecting, but alright. My fingers worked across the digital keyboard, typing, trying to calm Sam down. your fine, shes just having fun... my mom was literally just doing the same to me Again, more seconds, more waiting, another message. no, u dont understand, its different this time what do u mean I rolled my eyes, giving in as I hit send. She was totally overreacting, but I was happy to indulge her worries. Besides, it gave me something to do, gave me a distraction from the never-ending boredom of isolation. Another ping, I looked down at the new response. it just is, give me a sec, im calling u Sure enough, seconds later the familiar tune of facetime came from my phone. I swiped up, ready to talk to Sam. What I wasn't ready for was the look of fear and terror on her tear-stricken face. She was sitting in her room with the lights off, crying. Something was wrong. It made me sit up straighter, made me focus. "Sam, what's the matter, are you ok?" My voice was shaky with adrenaline. "Shh, keep it down," Sam hissed back, her voice a rushed whisper. "I don't want my mom to hear." "Why? Sam, you need to tell me what's going on." I said, that shakiness turning to concern. Sam paused, almost as if she were thinking. "I don't know for certain... but I think it has to do with the CDs our moms got us." "The nursery rhymes?" My voice came out louder than I had meant. "Shh, I told you to keep it down," Sam hissed again, "My mom thinks I'm taking a nap." "Sorry, sorry... What about the CDs?" Sam was quiet now. A look came over her eyes. They softened, her pupils seemed to distance themselves, seemed to wander off. Her thumb popped into her mouth. She looked... She looked like a toddler. "Sam, snap out of it," I said, "What about the CDs?" Sam shook her head, her eyes focused again, the thumb came out of her mouth. "It's already happening," She whispered. "Sam, I need you to focus, the CDs, tell me about the CDs." Sam nodded. "I noticed it a couple of days ago... They started to make me feel different... Act different... Like a baby... I shook it off at first, figured it was just me being weird... But it continued... the urges grew stronger." "What urges? Like wanting to be a baby?" Sam nodded again. "Ya, but I have no control over them... it feels like something takes over my body... like something takes over my brain... I... I..." That same look came over Sam's face again, that same gaze. Her eyes seemed to wander, seemed unintelligent, as though nothing was going on behind them. "Sam, come on... this isn't funny, you're starting to scare me." No response. She just sat there, sucking away at her thumb, looking so happy and content. A look of focus came over her face as she grunted, it looked as though she was pushing... "Sam?.. Are you pooping?" "poopie," Sam giggled, her face and body relaxing again as she went back to sucking her thumb, seemingly unaware, or uncaring that she had just pooped her diaper. "Sam, please," I begged, on the verge of tears. "Please snap out of it, come on, focus." Sam looked at me with that gaze, stared at me, focused again, like she was concentrating, like she was fighting something. "Da... Da muwic... no gud... baby." She was still in there. I let out the breath I had been holding, let myself relax. Sam wasn't gone, she was still there. I could still help her. "Sam, please, if you can hear me you need to fight this, come one, focus, I know you can do it." I waited. There was no response, no recollection from Sam's eyes as she sat there in her poopy diaper. And then she shook her head, spit her thumb out again, focused again. "I... I can't help it... It's the nursery rhymes... I think their hypnotic tapes... I think they're meant to reprogram us into babies." "But why? Why would our moms do that?" "I don't know," Sam said, it looked like she was fighting herself again, fighting whatever was growing inside of her. "Madi, you need to run... wet out o der... pwese..." "Sam?.. Sam?.." Sam was gone again, this time crawling away from her phone, happily babbling to herself. She looked just like a baby, was acting just like a baby. My stomach turned in all kinds of knots watching my babyfied best friend crawling about her nursery. I felt like I was going to be sick. More panic settling inside of me as I realized that I had been listening to the same exact nursery rhymes, realizing that I had been subject to the same exact brainwashing as Sam. If everything Sam had said was true, I was destined for the same fate. My attention snapped back as the light in Sam's room turned on. "Sam are you here, baby?" Sam's mom, Jennifer, asked. A smile settled on her face at the sight of Sam crawling about. "It looks like momma's going to get her baby back sooner than expected," She laughed, "And somebody needs their stinky butt changed." "poopie, mamma," Sam giggled. "Yes, you definitely made a poopie for momma, baby," Jennifer said, "Why don't we change your diaper?" I could see Sam nodding her head as she crawled over to her mom. "There's just one last thing momma needs to do, baby, just one last thing to make sure all that big girl washes away," Jennifer said. "Baby, baby, baby." I could feel something washing over my body as she said those three words, could feel a warmth spreading throughout me, pulling me down. No. I couldn't let it win. I forced my brain to fight against it, forced the feeling from my body, kept it a bay. Sam had been right. We had been brainwashed. It had been those CDs. I turned back to the screen, watched as Sam laid back on a changing mat, now suckling a pacifier in her mouth, those empty eyes wandering about as her mom untaped her diaper. And I watched, horror-stricken, as her poopie diaper was changed. There was no fighting, was no complaining. It was simply a mother changing her baby's diaper. Only that baby happened to be a teenager, happened to be my best friend. Sam's empty eyes locked onto me, focused, a hint of recognition as she smiled behind her pacifier. She pointed at me, giggling. "Madi!" My eyes widened, panic spread through my body as I froze in place, watching in slow motion as Sam's mom followed her daughter's finger all the way to the phone. "Well little miss, you weren't supposed to see this," Sam's mom said, unphased as she calmly finished taping up Sam's diaper. "It would have been easier for all of us if you didn't know what was about to happen." "What... What did you do to her?" I demanded, my voice shaky, and yet demanding. "Nothing that she didn't want... Nothing that you don't want." She said, moving towards the phone, picking it up. "Both of you wanted to be babies and your mother and I both wanted our babies back... this makes it happen." I shook my head. "No, not like this, not in this way. You can't just brainwash us into being babies." "Oh, but dear, we already have," Jennifer said, her voice sweet and soothing, full of pity and understanding. "Sam is already gone, dear, and pretty soon you'll be joining her as her little sister." "Little sister?" I asked, "What do you mean?" "That's nothing for you to worry your little head about right now, dear, your mother will explain everything to you in just a few minutes." My mother. I hadn't even thought about her, hadn't thought about the danger lurking in my own house. I turned off the phone, dropped it to the ground, bolted to my door, locked it shut. I looked around the room, my panicked eyes looking for anything I could use to barricade the door, wishing mom hadn't taken my chair away. "Madi?.." I froze, staring at the door, listening as mom's footsteps echoed on the stairs. "Madi?.." The door jiggled this time. "Can you let me in, sweetheart?" "Go... Go away!" "Madi, I just want to talk to you, sweetheart, that's all." "Go away!" I shouted, tears starting to stream down my face. "Please... Just leave me alone." The door jiggled again and then stopped. All was silent for a second, only my racing heart broke through the silence, and then the door swung open. "Ha... How?" I asked, unable to spit out the words as I fell back, pushing myself into a corner, watching as mom entered the room. Her eyes were focused, a look of pity and sorrow within them as she walked closer. "Sweetheart, there's no reason to lock mommy out, I'm just trying to help you." "Mom... Please don..." "Shh, it's alright, sweetheart," Mom said, "Everything is going be better in just a minute." "Mom, please," I begged, crying now. "Please don't do this." Mom stepped closer now, stood right in front of me, a soft smile settled on her face. "Baby, baby, baby." Immediately I felt warmth spread throughout my body, a tingling sensation. It crept up into my spine and over my head, forcing itself inside my brain. It begged me to let go, to let it happen, to give in to the feeling, to let it consume me. "No," I said shaking my head, fighting, "Please, don't do this." More tears dripped down my face as mom knelt in front of me. "Don't fight it, sweetheart," She cooed, petting my hair, "Just let it happen. Just let me take care of you again. Let me be your mommy." "Mommy... Please..." "Baby, baby, baby..." Another wave of warmth washed over my body, forcing my muscles to relax. It was stronger this time, irresistible. It crept up my spine again, forced its way around my body, taking it over. It felt like I was drowning inside. That last bit of life being leached from my body. It reached my brain again. An explosion of endorphins flooded my brain, made me feel so good, so happy as everything slipped away. I couldn't fight it anymore, it was just too strong, felt so good. And then it was in control. "Good, girl," Mom cooed, standing up, "Now how about we change that diaper of yours." It was like my body was on autopilot as I crawled over to the changing mat. In my head, I kept screaming 'no,' but my body refused to listen, refused to respond. And so, I let mom lay me back on the changing mat, let her gather a fresh diaper and powder and wipes. And I simply laid there, sucking away at my thumb until mom slipped a pacifier in my mouth. "There we go, all better now," Mom cooed, rubbing my belly. "Now I know that you are scared and confused right now, and that's ok, that's perfectly ok," She said, untaping my diaper, wiping down my front side. "Mommy's going to explain everything." I laid there, suckling away at the pacifier, as she continued to wipe me down as though I really were a baby. "Jennifer and I thought long and hard about this," Mom said, lifting my ankles into the air, wiping down my bottom. "And we both wanted a kind of restart on life together, a do-over if you must, wanted to raise our kids together. And you Sam are already both Seniors which kind of killed that dream of ours." My ankles were set down, mom started to fan out a fresh diaper. "That was until you both came out and told us about ABDL, told us that you liked being babied," Mom said, sliding the fresh diaper under my bottom. "And it was like a dream come true. We wanted to have babies again, wanted to raise children together, and you both wanted to be babies." Powder was being dusted over my privates now and mom started to rub it in. "All we had to do was find a hypnotist to make a program for you girls to listen to, and then, after a couple of weeks, we would be able to regress you two back to babies." Mom said, pulling the thick padding up between my legs. "And might I say they were some splendid results." Mom helped me to sit up now, smiled at me as though I were some doll. "You and Sam are going to make such perfect sisters," Mom said, motioning for me to follow, "Sam as the rambunctious toddler, and you as the adorable infant." Infant? She was going to make me an infant? She led me over to the crib, helped me inside, laid me back, pulled the blanket over me, tucked me in. "There's just one more tape you need to listen to, sweetheart, just one more tape before I have my beautiful baby girl back," Mom whispered, kissing me on the forehead before pulling the crib rail into place. I watched as she moved over to the music player, watched as she popped the CD out, slid a new one in, hit play. "It's time to sleep now, sweetheart, and when you wake up everything will be perfect. Mommy loves you, baby girl." She turned the lights off before shutting the door, leaving me in total darkness, leaving me stuck, unable to move as the shooting tune of the nursery rhyme forced its way inside my head. It was so beautiful, so calming, so relaxing. I lay there, suckling the pacifier as I closed my eyes. It was just like the other rhymes I had listened to, just as addicting, just as soothing. Only now, a voice broke through. It was a woman, her voice sounded as though it had been dipped in honey, so quiet, so soothing, so sweet. I couldn't help but listen to her, couldn't help but relax as her voice lulled my brain into silence, into obedience. I was feeling so sleepy now, so tired. My mind started to wander, started to forget. And then everything was gone. A. Few. Months. Later. I was laying in my bassinet, watching Sam as she danced around the living room, playing with her make-believe kitchen set. She was so carefree, so innocent, a happy, little toddler. She was all gone now. The hypnosis had washed away her adult self, leaving behind a beautiful baby girl. I, on the other hand, was still here. All of me was. I could still remember, still think. My brain was still there, trapped behind the actions and personalities of an infant. A teen girl stuck in the body of a newborn baby. I couldn't speak, couldn't crawl, couldn't even turn myself over. But that was the way our moms had planned it. They had wanted a toddler and an infant. A happy little family. And I was the infant. My life was nothing more than sleeping, eating, and diaper changes. It was boring, mundane, predictable. And I had no way to change it, no way to stop it. All I could do was hope that we would be allowed to grow up someday, that they would return us to normal at some point. But even that idea seemed to fade into the background as time went on. My stomach rumbled, I felt a tight strain deep in my belly, felt my bowels moving. It was time to poop. And just as quickly as that feeling came, it disappeared as my body let go and pushed the warm mush into the back of my diaper. I knew it was happening but had no control over it. All I could do was wince as that watery mush spread about my diaper. An all-breastmilk diet hadn't been kind to my systems. And just like clockwork, my bottom lip started to quiver, tears started to form, the pacifier fell from my mouth, I started to cry and fuss. It was the wail of a newborn baby. So little, so helpless. And I had no control over it, had no ability to stop myself. "Shh, shh, it's ok baby, mommas here," Jennifer cooed, leaning over my bassinet. "Why so fussy, huh little one?" She reached in to rub my belly, smiling down at me with a look of sympathy, love. She and mom did truly care for us and love us. They just wanted us to be their babies, that's all. Jennifer grabbed my pacifier coaxing it back into my mouth, holding it there until I started to suckle again, silencing my cries. "There you go, precious, there you go," She soothed, rubbing my belly again. "Momma will get you changed, yes she will." And with that, she pulled me from the bassinet and laid me on the changing mat on the floor as she had, and mom had done a hundred times before. And just like all those other times, I simply laid there, suckling away at the pacifier as she unbuttoned my footed sleeper. My feet were freed, and the sleeper was pushed up and out of the way. Her hands focused on my onesie next, unbuttoning it at my crotch before pushing it up and out of the way, leaving my messy diaper exposed. "You left a big present for momma today, didn't you precious," Jennifer cooed, reaching for the tapes of the diaper. "That's ok though, momma will wipe your bottom clean no matter how messy you make it." The sound of tapes ripping filled the air. The stench of my messy diaper intensified, and my nose wrinkled at the smell. Jennifer seemed not to care, humming happily to herself as though she enjoyed the process of changing my diaper. As though she weren't wiping poop off the bottom of a giant infant. My ankles were grabbed and pushed to my chest, the diaper was pulled against my bottom, wiping away most of the poop. A baby wipe followed, its chilly, damp feeling cleaning the poop off my bottom. And then the diaper was pulled out from under me, balled up, and set to the side. A fresh diaper was slid under my bottom taking its place. My ankles were set back down, my bottom laid on the fresh, thick, fluffy diaper. Some cream was applied followed by a sprinkle of baby powder, and then the padding was pulled up between my legs, the diaper taped up snugly against my tummy, trapping me in my cotton prison once again. "All done," Jennifer cooed happily, smiling at me as she cleaned her hands off with a fresh baby wipe. "After that big messy you must be hungry, precious." My stomach seemed to follow her thoughts, grumbling as she redressed me in the onesie and footed sleeper, bundling me up in layers of warm clothes, exactly like one would do for a real newborn. She lifted me up in her arms, straining slightly with my weight as she moved me over to the love seat, sitting down with me cradled in her lap, my head cradled in her arms with my legs draped over the rest of her body. An oversized infant. I could still hear Sam playing in the playground, oblivious to the diaper change I had just experienced, uncaring, still so happy and content with her toys as any toddler would be. I was envious of her in a sense. Not knowing. It would be easier to not understand, easier to not remember. Jennifer wrapped a blanket around us, tucked it around my body, cradled me closer, wrapping me up in further layers as she adjusted me in her lap, pushed me down further, level with her nipple. She pulled up her nursing blouse, leaving her breast on full display, her erect nipple only inches from my mouth. She brushed it against my lips, teasing back and forth, waiting for me to latch on. And I did. My mouth opened, she pushed her nipple deep inside, letting me clamp down on it, latching on, suckling. Even if I had wanted to resist, I couldn't. My body took over, infant me took over. My brain seemed to melt away as I nursed, my only thoughts and focus were on the warm milk as it trickled down my throat. "There we go, good baby," Jennifer cooed, patting my diapered bottom. "Such a good eater for momma, yes you are." As I laid there, nursing, I couldn't help but think about this new life, couldn't help but think about how I had dreamed about this. How I had wished that Sam and I had met sooner, had wished to be a baby, had wished to be a family. And all that had come true. Sam and I were now babies, sisters, and all of us were a family. And yet somehow that dream had turned into a nightmare. And as I lay there, suckling away, nursing, drinking the warm breastmilk, my eyes started to grow heavy, sleepy as the warm milk filled my stomach. There was no reason to fight the sleep. Jennifer would rock me to sleep no matter what, would force me to nap once again. And so, I closed my eyes, taking comfort in her warmth, in the security of my diaper, in the soothing sound of her voice as she hummed to me. I let myself become a newborn, let myself accept this new life. I let my mind go dormant in my brain, let the infant me take over. Finally becoming that newborn, finally forgetting who I had been. Letting that feeling of warmth wash over my body. My eyes softened as it happened, as I disappeared. And then I was gone. "They're beautiful, aren't they," A voice said, quiet, whispering. It was my mom. I opened my eyes to see her smiling down at me, watching me nurse from momma’s breast. Her eyes were so loving, so happy, so content. "They are," momma replied, "Our perfect little family." The End

I didn't mention an age because I wanted readers to use their own imaginations to picture how Emily would look. With that being said, I see her more middle school aged. Somewhere between 6th and 7th grade, probably 11-12, maybe 13.

Chapter 4: The Park Small Creek Park. The letters were painted a bright yellow on the simple and rugged sign. It was tucked away off the side of the road, hidden from those not looking for it. Dad slowed and turned into the entrance, its tight and winding path leading us further into the trees, leaving the sun behind as the darkness of the trees enveloped us. My anxiety was beginning to creep up, knowing that we were here, knowing that I would be leaving the safety and security of our vehicle soon. And then just as quickly as those trees had come, just as quickly as that darkness had come, they disappeared, opening up into a clearing. A meadow, hidden away like some kind of magical land. Dad drove a bit further in, parking across from a group of cars in the quiet parking lot. It brought me sweet relief knowing there weren't many people here. Relief that still couldn't curb the knots in my stomach. The engine shut off, mom and dad slipped out of the car. Dad headed around back to the trunk, the sound of objects being pulled out reached my ears. Mom took her place in helping me, opening my door, unbuckling me, soothing my worried face with her soft smile. "Sweetheart, it's ok, you can relax," mom said. It didn't help the panic in my eyes, didn't help the anxiety beating within me. I pushed her away when she reached in to pull me out, shaking my head in fear. I didn't want to get out, didn't want to leave the safety and security of the car. "Mommy, please," I begged, pleading with her one last time. "I'll be good, I promise." Mom just kept on smiling, rubbing my back as she gently coaxed the pacifier back into my mouth, pushing my hands away as I tried to stop her. "This isn't to punish you, sweetheart, we would never do that to you," She said, reaching in to pull me out once again. "This is supposed to be fun." I shook my head, refusing to leave. If this was fun, I didn't want anything to do with it. I wanted to get back on the road and go home. I wanted to be safe and sound inside the house where I didn't have to worry about anyone seeing me. Where nobody would see me wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier. The pacifier. I hadn't noticed, but I was suckling it hard, trying to self soothe, trying to fight the urge to scream and cry rising inside of me. "Sweetheart," Mom tried again, "I promise this will be fun, but you have to trust me." I locked eyes with her, they looked worried and sad, understanding. Like she understood the reason for my fear and reluctance. It helped quell the adrenaline coursing through my body, helped me to accept that I really had no choice in the matter. I nodded, letting her lift me from the car. I clung to her, gripping her shirt for dear life, my thumping heart beating hard against her chest. She held me close, rubbing my back trying to calm my panicked body. "Your alright, sweetheart," She cooed, "Mommy's got you, you're ok." It helped more than I wished it would. The dependence I was beginning to feel, the need for her I was beginning to have felt so good, so right, and yet so wrong at the same time. It made me feel so infantile and small when all I wanted at the moment was to be big and independent. To have my freedom back. She carried me around back to where dad was waiting. He greeted me with a similar smile to mom's, soothing and loving mixed with a hint of worry. He stood behind a stroller, my stroller, there was no other reason for it. Mom moved to set me down. "No!" I cried around the pacifier, refusing to let go, refusing to be sat in such an infantile thing. The pacifier fell from my mouth as my diapered bottom hit the seat. "I want to walk," I said, looking up at mom, fighting against her, trying to stand up, trying to get away. Mom still smiled, still soothed as she gently guided me back in the seat, pushing the pacifier back into my mouth. "I think it's better for you to ride in the stroller, sweetheart," She said, pulling the buckle up between my legs. "It's a pretty far walk still and it's normal for toddlers to be pushed in strollers. She was right. I nodded reluctantly, shuffling in the seat on my thick diaper as mom finished strapping me in. She adjusted the shade over my head, shielding my body from the burning sun, and then we were off. I sat forward in the stroller, doing my best to look around, trying to take in my surroundings. There were some picnic tables gathered around by the parking lot, a small pavilion was off to the side of them, more tables sat under its cover. My eyes drifted beyond that, further into the clearing where there was a small jogging path, I followed it, watched it lead off into the trees. My eyes shifted again, looking ahead of us, the small path dad was pushing me toward. There was a sign there, clear as day with an arrow pointing down the path. The picture of a playground was printed onto it, the word itself was written beneath. I pointed ahead. "Is that where we're going?" I asked, my words slurring around the pacifier. Dad chuckled. "Yes, that's where the playground is, pumpkin are you excited?" I pulled my hand back, thinking for a moment. Any excitement I had was being squashed by the fear of the unknown that lay ahead, the anxiety of what was to come, of what might happen, of who might see me, of what people would say or think. Excited was not the word I would use. I was pushed further down the path as mom and dad talked. I chose not to listen, but rather to drone them out and focus on the world around me, to let myself become absorbed with the sights and sounds of the woods. The constant buzz and noise of the suburbs was absent, that familiar white noise that occupies every second of life. Not even a distant car could be heard. It amplified the singing of birds and the scurrying of reptiles, made nature feel more alive. It fascinated me, how life here could be so different, so calm and quiet, peaceful. It let me relax for a moment, let that anxiety that had been growing all morning wash away. And then the sound of voices broke through that bubble, rupturing the calm that had been, let that anxiety and fear rush back in to take over my body. My eyes locked forward, watching the curve of the path in front of us. A man and a woman appeared. They were older with graying hair, cheerful smiles settled on their faces as they walked side by side. It terrified me, made me freeze in place. Made me pee myself. It started as a trickle and I tried to stop it, tried to stop the flow of pee into my diaper, but it simply wasn't possible. That trickle kept growing until I gave in completely, letting it out into thick padding between my legs, letting my diaper swell with the warmth of my fresh urine. My cheeks flushed red, full of shame and terror. There was no other way to describe the feeling other than infantile. I pushed myself against the back of the stroller, trying to make myself look as small as possible, as insignificant as possible as they came closer. And then she caught sight of me, her cheerful eyes locking onto me, her hand moving up to wave as she mouthed hi to me. My fear and terror spiked as my eyes went wide, pure panic raging through my body as they still moved closer. And then they stopped, they stopped to talk. I felt like I was going to pass out, felt like I was going to vomit. "I'm sorry," The woman intruded, moving to shake mom's hand, her attitude and Arora too cheerful and happy, like some kind of fake Grandma from a Christmas movie. "I couldn't help but notice this little cutie here." Her eyes beamed at me, eyeing me over as though I were a little doll to play with. "I've got a grandbaby around her age. They're so much fun when they're that young." Mom laughed, moving around the stroller to join her in watching me. "Yes, Emily is quite the cutey." "Oh, and where are my manners, I didn't even think about it," The woman said, her focus shifting back to my parents. "I'm Judy and this is Bob," She said, motioning towards her husband who was now stepping forward. "Mark," dad said, shaking hands with Bob and then Judy. "Jennifer," Mom said, following suit and shaking hands. "And then you've already met little Emily here." "Emily," Judy said, eager to have the conversation focused once again on me, on the little toddler. "What a pretty name." She turned back to mom. "Our little Megan just turned four, a bit older than your little one here I'm guessing." Four? Older than me? I wasn't sure whether to feel insulted or relieved. At least she thought I looked like a toddler, thought I was a toddler. It was better than being recognized as the big kid I really was. And so I want along with it, playing the part of a little toddler, suckling my pacifier as I looked off into the distance, pretending as though I wasn't paying attention to the conversation, pretending as though this wasn't the most heart-stopping moment of my life. Not that any of that could hide my red cheeks or the terror written all over my face. "You'd be right, Emily just turned three a couple of weeks ago," Mom said, smiling down at me as dad rocked the stroller back and forth, both of them treating me no different than an actual baby. Again the conversation was on me, three sets of eyes looking down at my blushing, terrified face. My only hope at this point was that they wouldn't notice my wet diaper, wouldn't notice that I had peed myself like some little baby. I just them to leave, just wanted the attention to be on something other than myself. I let myself gaze up at the group of adults, my worried eyes standing out as I cowered in the stroller. That didn't stop Judy from doting on me with that smile of hers, a smile that could only be described as something reserved for little babies. "Oh and she's a shy one, how precious." Dad answered this time. "Ya, meeting new people isn't one of her strong suits yet." "That's quite alright, I wouldn't want to worry her any more than she already is," Judy said, her eyes still locked on me. "Besides I'm sure she's ready to go and play." "We hope so," Mom said, "It was a bit of a drive out here so she's been cooped up for a good while. Hopefully, the park will let her burn off some energy." Judy laughed, "I'm sure it will, playgrounds always seem to have a way of doing that." "They do," Mom said, nodding in agreement. Bob shook dad's hand once again. "Well, we won't take up too much of yalls time," He said, his thick, slow accent intruding on the conversation as he motioned for his wife to finish up, winking at me. "Wouldn' wanna keep the youngin waitin' any longer dan necessary." And it was suit relief to my ears. Judy, on the other hand, didn't look too pleased, but she relented nonetheless. "Oh, I suppose I should get out of yall's hair," She said, "Anyway, it was nice meeting you all, and it was nice meeting you, Emily." Her gaze focused on me once more as she waved goodbye. "Can you say bye-bye, sweetheart?" Mom asked, taking hint at Judy's voice. I peered up at them, shaking my head before retreating back under the cover of the stroller, pushing myself against the back of the seat, suckling the pacifier for comfort. The thought of acknowledging these people, the thought of interacting with them was too much. I just couldn't do it, couldn't bring myself to do it. Like a baby, I felt Judy waved mom off. "Don't worry about it, Megan can be quite the shy one too. Yall have fun now." She said, saying her final, reluctant goodbye before joining her husband. "Thank you, we will." "Have a good one." And then, just like that, they were gone, and I was relieved. I let out a sigh of relief, the stress and anxiety leaving my body just as quickly as it had flooded in, leaving me in peace once again. And mom and dad didn't even hassle me about not waving. I was pushed for another few minutes until the trail started to open up. Again, like the parking lot, the world seemed to open up into a meadow, and as we rounded the corner, the playground came into sight. My eyes widened, dancing across the bright, vibrant blues and yellows and reds, all the different slides and towers and things to climb on. It was a playground like no other, a child's dream. And as much as I hated to admit it, I felt an urge to go run and play. Something I hadn't felt in years. It was like my inner child was bubbling up inside of me, fighting to get out. And I didn't want her out, I wanted her to stay locked away, wanted to keep being the big girl I was. Dad turned, leading us off the path, up a small hill that overlooked the park, stopping underneath the shade of a large tree. "Does this work?" He asked. Mom nodded, stepping towards me, reaching for the buckle. "The shade will be good for eating later." I didn't know what to do as mom's hands took hold of the buckle, her hands brushing against the front of my diaper as she released the latch. I sat frozen as her hands hovered for a moment, lingered like they sensed something. Her hand discreetly reached under my dress, finding the front of my diaper, squeezing it between her fingers. I felt the padding squish between her fingers, could see the look of knowing in her eyes. "Emily?" Mom asked, "Did you go pee, sweetheart?" Reluctantly I nodded, that bright red returning to my cheeks, that shame as I felt my emotions rising. Only the comforting rhythm of the pacifier kept them at bay. "It's alright, sweetheart, needing changed is nothing to be embarrassed about." Her eyes meant it, meant every bit of it. And I wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that it was ok, but deep down I still couldn't get over the whole diaper thing, couldn't get over how having an accident had gone from being a bad thing to a good thing in a matter of days. My brain fought that logic, fell back on my years of potty training to try and resist it, tried to fight the diaper training that was happening right before my eyes. "Emily, I promise that it's alright, sweetheart," Mom cooed, her hand rubbing my back as she coaxed me from the seat. Dad had already laid out the changing pad, had already set out all the supplies needed to change my diaper. And it was right in the middle of the open, was right in the middle of the great outdoors. All somebody had to do was look over and they would see everything, would see me being changed. "No! Mommy, please," I begged, the pacifier falling from my mouth as I pulled away from her grasp. "Don't change me here, please." My voice was desperate, panicked. mom knelt down in front of me, taking hold of my hands, looking me in the eye. "Sweetheart, nobody will see anything, nobody will notice, nobody will care." "But what if they do?" Mom smiled. "All they'll see is a baby getting her diaper changed. Nothing more, nothing less." I thought for a moment, thought about the heavy sag of my diaper, the uncomfortable dampness of it between my legs, thought about how nice a dry diaper would feel. But I also thought about the embarrassment of being changed outdoors, how anybody and everybody would be able to see, thought about how exposed I would be, how humiliating it would be. "Come on, Sweetheart, you'll feel better once you're dry," Mom said, trying again to lead me over to the changing pad, encouraging me to listen, to let her have control. And I followed, I gave in. My mind screamed for me to fight back, screamed for me to do something as mom laid me back, but my body wouldn't respond, I was on autopilot, a child under the care and control of her mother. Deep down, I knew this was best, knew this was the only way to get out of the wet diaper, to get away from the yucky feeling. I needed her to change me, wanted her to change me. And so I laid still like an obediant baby, suckling away on my pacifier as mom pulled my dress up and slid my diaper cover down to my ankles. "There we go, just relax, sweetheart," Mom cooed, rubbing my belly as she untaped the diaper, "You're being such a good girl for mommy." I flinched, squirmed at the touch of the baby wipes, at their chilliness as they dragged against my skin, wiping away the pee. "You're ok, you're ok, sweetheart," Mom whispered, her hand pressing against my stomach, holding me firm as she continued to wipe. "Just relax, mommy will be down in just a minute." I looked away, looked out at the playground as my ankles were raised and my bottom was wiped. My eyes danced about the families below, checking to see if anybody was watching my change. And to my relief, not a single person seemed interested in my humility. Relief washed over me as my butt was laid onto a clean, fresh diaper. Relief that the change was almost over and relief that nobody had seen, that nobody had cared. "Don't worry, sweetheart, mommy's almost down, just bear with me for another second," Mom said, smoothing a fresh dusting of powder into my diaper area. The powder smelled nice, felt nice against my skin, wicking away any moisture left over from the change. And I sighed as mom pulled the thick padding up between my legs, taping it snug around my hips. It felt good to be clean and dry. The diapers warm bulk adding a kind of security and comfort. "There we go, all fresh now," Mom cooed, helping me up. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" I shook my head, reaching my arms out for a hug. "Thank you, mommy." "You're welcome, sweetheart," Mom said, holding me close, rubbing my back. "And thank you for letting me change your diaper." I giggled as she patted my bottom. I could feel myself slipping away, could feel that little version of myself climbing closer and closer to the surface. Her and I becoming one as I let my defenses down, as I let myself become the toddler I was supposed to be. It was a happy feeling, nice and warm. It felt safe, and I felt loved. "Now what do you say we go and have some fun?" I nodded, climbing to my feet, my eyes turning to dad, my hand sliding into his own. "Will you swing with me, daddy?" "I'd love to, pumpkin," He said, following after me as I pulled him down to the playground. Mom stood, shocked. "Oh, I see how it is, mommy changes the diapers and daddy does all the playing." Her voice was happy, sarcastic. Daddy and I both giggled at her. "You can swing to mommy, daddy has to push." More laughter, more giggles. I ran to the playground, the little rocks sliding beneath my feet on the way. It brought back memories from when I was younger, from when life had been simpler, when everything had been happier and better. Just like now, that feeling of happiness that washed over my body as dad helped me onto the swing, taking his place behind me, his firm, strong hands pushing against my back. I smiled. A true smile, giggled like the little girl I was. In my fear of letting go, in my fear of returning to babyhood I had forgotten what this had all felt like, how much fun it had been, how loved I had felt. And yet, even in this moment, I could feel myself thinking back to school, thinking back to my friends, and my responsibilities. I knew that I wasn't really a baby, knew that this was all just pretend, knew that I was supposed to be mature and grown-up. But right here, right now, none of that mattered. "Higher daddy!" "Not too much higher, pumpkin," Dad chuckled. "I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself." No, at this moment, all that mattered was that I was happy and that my parents were happy. This was a moment I would cherish and remember forever. Looking out over the playground from my swinging perch, I watched the other kids and toddlers running about. They looked so carefree and happy. Much in the same way I felt right now. The only difference was that they were actual kids and toddlers, I wasn't. I was an imposter amongst their ranks. And I felt a slight bit of Jealsuy rising within me as I longed to be back in their place, wishing I had never grown up in the first place. At least then I wouldn't know what I was missing, wouldn't know what it was like to be free and independent. It would make letting go easier, would make this whole process easier. I sat on the swing for a while longer, watching as more and more families left the park. Most of those leaving most likely leaving to eat their own lunches or heading home for nap time. It gave me an opportunity to explore and play. I didn't have to worry about being judged if only a few people were here, and so I pulled myself off the swing, stepping towards, the play structure itself, hesitating, looking back for my parents. "It's alright, pumpkin," Dad said, motioning me forward. "You can go play, I'm right behind you." I smiled, his words inspiring confidence inside myself. I turned back to the structure, my eyes scanning all the obstacles and things to climb, settling on a twisting later. I ran forward, grabbing the cool metal with my hands, climbing up, feeling free, feeling like a little kid again. And then I paused, looked back, a bit of worry in my eyes. "Daddy, will you come up with me?" "I'm right behind you, pumpkin." I smiled again, taking his words in stride as I climbed to the top of the platform, looking around at all the options, all the exits and obstacles. My eyes stopped on the monkey bars. "Daddy, look," I said, pulling him over to take part in my excitement. "Mommy, can you help me?" Mom was already standing underneath, ready to help, ready to encourage. "Go ahead sweetheart, I've got you." I reached out for the bars, getting my grip, looking back once more for dad's nod of approval, and then I swung out, holding tight as mom walked beneath me, ready to catch me in case I fall. Something that proved unnecessary as I worked my way across to the other side, pulling myself to the next platform. "Come on, daddy, hurry up!" "I'm coming, I'm coming." I hadn't realized how much I had missed this, how much I had missed running about and playing on the playground. How much fun it had been to run and jump and slide and play without a single care in the world. I looked about, searching for my next adventure as dad caught up. My eyes landed on a stairway leading up to a higher platform, a platform much higher than the one I was on now. I looked beyond it, looked at the twisting and turning slide leading from the top. That was definitely next. "This one, daddy," I said, pointing towards the stairs. "Well go on then, pumpkin, what are you waiting for?" That was all I needed, I giggled running up the stairs, pulling myself up to the platform, looking out at the playground from my new perch. It was so cool up here. It felt as though I was on top of the world. I looked down at mom down below as she snapped a picture on her phone. "We're coming down!" I screamed, sitting down at the entrance of the slide. "Slide with me, daddy?" Dad sat down behind me, his legs on either side of my own. He pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around my stomach as he scooted himself towards the edge, my giggles echoing into the slide. "You ready?" "Uh-uh." "Here we go!" I leaned into him, giggling and screaming as we slid down the dark tube. Our laughs mixing together as we twisted and turned our way down the slide. The darkness quickly giving way to light as we slid out the exit and into mom's waiting arms. "Was that fun?" Mom asked, her hands assaulting me with tickles as dad held me pinned against him. All of us laughing, all us having fun. "Ye... Yes... Stop... I... I can't breathe." I choked out between my giggles and laughs. Mom finally stopped and I was able to catch my breath, standing up, looking around, seeing what I wanted to do next. "Where to, pumpkin?" Dad asked, still sitting on the slide. "I should start calling you monkey the way you did those monkey bars. "Nu-uh," I giggled. "Ya-uh," He said, tickling me once more. I squirmed, laughing in his arms, resting for a moment before looking up at him, my gaze narrowed, serious. "What?" He asked. I grinned, standing up, pushing his stomach before turning to run. "You're it!" The look on his face was priceless, serious, as he turned towards mom. "You better run, honey, I'm it." ******************** We pulled our tired, exhausted selves up under the shade of the tree half an hour later. Dad lay on his back, exhausted from chasing me around. I followed suit, resting my head against his stomach, equally exhausted from being chased. It was mom who summoned her energy to bring us all water. Dad drank greedily from his water bottle while I sucked heavily on my sippy cup, the water adding just enough fuel to keep me going. "You guys hungry?" Mom asked, pulling out our cooler. We both nodded and dad moved to help mom pull stuff out and get lunch ready. Minutes later I was handed a plate with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and grapes. A perfect lunch after a busy day of playing. We ate in silence, all of us catching our breathe, enjoying the shade as we watched the other families running and playing down at the park. As much as it pained me to admit it, mom and dad had been right. Today had been fun, and once my anxiety and fear calmed down I had been truly able to enjoy it, all of it. It just felt good to get away from everything, to forget about everything for a little bit, and enjoy life. I finished up eating and took another long draw from my sippy cup. With my tired body and a belly full of food, a food coma started to wash over my body. I was getting groggy, tired. I needed to sleep, needed a nap. Crawling over to mom, I laid down with my head in her lap, relaxing, breathing slowly as I closed my eyes. "You getting tired, sweetheart?" She asked, running her fingers through my hair. I nodded. "Mm-hmm." "Do you want your pacifier?" Again, I nodded. "Mm-hmm" Moments later I felt the nipple of my pacifier brushing against my lips. I opened, letting mom slide the pacifier inside. It settled against my tongue as I suckled it slowly, enjoying the comfort and relaxation it brought. I didn't care if it was meant for babies, not now, not at this moment. All I cared about was sleeping, and it helped me sleep. Helped me to block out the sounds around me, helped my mind to drift off... I next opened my eyes to see dad buckling me into my car seat. "Hey, pumpkin," Dad whispered, tightening the straps against my body. "It's alright to sleep, baby, daddy didn't mean to wake you." And with that he was gone, the door was shut, leaving me by myself. I still felt so tired, and sleep beckoned me back to its warm embrace. I suckled my pacifier, enjoying its comfort as I rested my head against the side of the car seat, closing my eyes, letting sleep wash back over me as my mind drifted off, a smile on my face. Maybe being a baby isn't so bad after all. Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment down below. It would make my day and I love hearing from everybody. Anyway, the next chapter will be posted next Friday, but if you don't want to wait, you can find Chapter 5 on my Patreon. Until next time: Stay padded, Stay awesome!!! ~SissyatHeart ?

Chapter 3: A Rough Morning "Hunny, do you smell that?" Mom asked, stopping on her way past the living room. Dad looked up from his Ipad, unaware. "Smell what?" "Something stinks, kind of like a..." Dad sniffed the air, chuckling, "It's your turn, I changed her earlier." "Emily?" At the call of my name, I looked up from the blocks I was playing with, meeting Mom's gaze. She had a look of knowing on her face, a soft smile. A maternal look, loving. "Do you have a stinky butt?" I frowned, shaking my head. "No..." "Emily?" She asked again. "Are you sure?" "Uh-huh," I nodded, annoyed by the question. I was pretty sure I would know if I pooped my pants, who wouldn't? She stepped towards me, closing the distance between us. "Can mommy check your diaper, sweetheart?" I huffed, glaring up at her. I didn't want to stop playing, didn't understand why she was so adamant about checking my diaper, but complied with her wish. Standing up, I walked over to her, letting her have control, knowing that she wouldn't find anything. I felt her hand at the small of my back, holding me in place while her other grabbed the back of my diaper and pulled it away from my skin. She held me there for a moment, peering down the back, checking for the poop I knew wasn't there. Moments later her hands retreated. I turned to go back to playing with my blocks, expecting to be set free, but she grabbed my hand, kept me by her side. "Where do you think you're going silly," Mom chuckled, "You need a diaper change." "A diaper change?" I asked, confused. But that would mean... My face flushed red, I felt hot, dizzy. I hadn't noticed it before, that sticky feeling, that warmth, that mushiness in the seat of my diaper. It was there now. All too obvious. I had pooped myself without even realizing it. I felt frozen in place, felt sick. "I... I didn't... I didn't mean to." I stammered, looking up at her, tears welling up in my eyes. I could feel a sob trying to escape my throat. Mom lifted me onto her hip, rubbing my back as she carried me to the stairs. "It's alright, sweetheart, that's what your diapers are for," She said, "For when you don't realize, for when you have an accident..." ******************** My eyes shot open, I gasped for air, my heart pounding out of my chest as I bolted upright in the crib. My shirt was covered in sweat, evidence from the nightmare I had just awoken from. But it was just that, a nightmare. It was all in my head, my imagination. It hadn't been real. I told myself this, laying back, letting my head hit the pillow. My heart started to slow as my panic subsided. I laid there for a minute in the silence of the morning, composing myself, letting that silence take over, letting that silence calm me down. As I lay there, my ears began picking up on the sounds around me. Mom's soft breathing filtered into my ears, helped me relax as my breathing matched with her own. It was comforting, soothing to have her nearby. Dad's snores, however, were absent, and yet I could sense his presence. I could hear the faintest sound of a TV show playing in the living room. The smell of pancakes lingered in the air. Breakfast. My stomach grumbled at the thought as I snuggled further under the warmth of my blanket, hiding from the chill of the morning air. I had recovered from my nightmare, and yet I still couldn't shake the feeling it left me with. It was a dirty feeling, disgust. My mind switched back to the diaper taped around my waist. The subject of my nightmare. It was full from a nights wetting. Its warmth and squishiness was something I was well accustomed to, and yet, it was an entirely new feeling. A wet diaper felt different than a wet pull-up. The bulkiness, the babyish smell, it made me feel infantile, as though I were an actual baby. As though I belonged living the life of a toddler. Something that I knew should bother me. And yet it made me smile. There was something soothing about not having to worry, something soothing about having everything done for you. Even if had only been a couple of days since my return to toddlerhood, I could already feel myself sinking into the mindset of a baby. That state of happiness and carefreeness. It was surprisingly easy to let go, easy to allow myself to both be treated as a toddler, and act along with it. And yet it was difficult at the same time, shameful, terrifying. I knew deep down that it wasn't natural, that I shouldn't find joy in being cared for, that I should want to be independent and mature. But I didn't. I didn't want to make decisions, I didn't want to have responsibilities, I didn't want to grow up. But then there was the thought of losing control. Like the nightmare, the thought of ever pooping myself without knowing sent a shiver down my spine, disgusted me. It was all just so confusing. Mom stirred in bed, rolling over, sighing. It snapped me from my thoughts, made my ears perk as I listened for her movement. I rolled over in the crib, sitting up to face her. She was sitting up in bed, drinking the last bit of water from her glass. She smiled upon seeing me. It was a genuine smile, a happy smile. I smiled back, pulling myself up to the crib edge with a youthful grin on my face, watching as she climbed out of bed, stretching and yawning as she fought off the fog of sleep, waking for the day. She approached the crib, embracing me in a morning hug and a few too many loving kisses making me giggle in her embrace. "Morning, sweetheart, how'd you sleep?" I thought for a moment, enjoying the warmth and comfort she brought, thinking about the nightmare I had only so recently had, thinking about the emotions coursing through my body. I didn't know how to respond, how to tell her. So I lied. "Good." "Ya? That's good, where's your pacifier?" I looked down at my pajama shirt, at the pacifier clip dangling from my chest. I held it out to mom, my eyes asking her not to make me use it, begging her to let me have just one dignity this morning. And yet I knew it was pointless to even try. I had gotten well acquainted with pacifiers over the past couple of days. She took the pacifier from my hand and released the latch from my shirt, heading off over to the changing table where she grabbed a fresh one, a clean one, before returning. "Mommy, please?" I whispered. She shook her head, holding the light blue pacifier up to my mouth. I frowned, staring at the infantile thing. I knew better than to make a fuss though. It was too early in the morning to fight or be difficult, it was easier for both of us if I just accepted the nipple. And so I did. I opened my mouth, letting her plop the pacifier inside, suckling it like a good baby as she held it there for a moment, making sure I wasn't going to spit it out. "Good girl," She said, snapping the paci clip to my shirt. I sighed around the pacifier, glaring at mom as her hands reached for my waist. A diaper check. We both already knew I was in need of a change, after all, bedwetting had lead me to this predicament in the first place, but still, a diaper check made it known that I was a baby, made it known that I was incapable of communicating the state of my diaper. It put me in my place, made it known that she was the parent and that I was the baby. I watched, hanging onto the crib rail for balance as her hand cupped the front of my diaper, squeezing it, pinching it, checking for wetness. The squish of the diaper in her hand confirmed that I was indeed soaked. And then she reached around to my back, pulled me closer, held me still. I froze in place, a spike of fear rising in my chest. Her fingers found the waistband of the diaper, snaked inside, pulled it away from my skin letting a burst of air run down my backside. I could feel her eyes peering down the back. It was something so routine and familiar, and yet so scary. I could only think of one thing. My nightmare. That lack of control, that shock, that feeling of helplessness. And then her hands pulled away. "Just a little wet this morning, I'll change you in a minute," Mom said, rubbing my back, kissing me on the forehead. She paused for a moment, looked me in the eye. "Are you ok, sweetheart?" It took me a minute to process her words, to pull back to reality. I nodded, suckling my pacifier for comfort. Why was I suckling so hard? "Ok," She said, her eyes looking unconvinced, worried, "I'll be back in a minute to change you." With that, I watched as she retreated off into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me to occupy myself in the crib. It was a test. I could spit the pacifier out, I could rebel like I had done the past few mornings. The thought crossed my mind like a fleeting dream, and just like that, it was gone. I had more things to worry about than the stupid pacifier. Besides, as much as I hated to admit it, it was kind of soothing, comforting. It was something to rely on in this state of unknown. I sat back in the crib, laid back, waiting, needing a break. My mouth working the silicone nipple as I stared up at the ceiling. My mind couldn't shake that nightmare, that feeling of helplessness, of restraint. It scared me, made me want to scream, made me want to act out. And yet at the same time, I was ok with so much of what was going on. I wasn't even sure what I was afraid of at this point, couldn't understand why I was feeling the way I was feeling. Couldn't understand my emotions, couldn't control them. It felt like my brain was going to explode. Like it was going to tear in half. A tear dripped down my cheek. I held my breath, holding back the sob, trying to keep myself together. From the bathroom, I heard the sound of a flushing toilet. Mom. She would be back any second. I wiped the tear from my face, forced my thoughts from my mind. Mom appeared from the bathroom, that same smile still on her face as she approached the crib. "Alright sweetheart, it's your turn, let's get you changed." She helped me from the crib, settling me on her hip for the quick trip over to the changing pad. A place I had been more than enough the past few days. It had been three days since I last used a toilet. Or was it four? I hadn't used one since the day mom and dad picked me up from school. Something that felt like it had happened years ago and yet it had only been a matter of days. Had I known what was coming, I would have stopped by the bathroom on my way to the office, would have enjoyed that last moment of freedom. I longed to be able to sit in private and relieve myself, to be in control even if for only a second. And yet, I knew I wouldn't have that kind of privilege for some time. For now, all my potty habits would be known and monitored. I was a baby in diapers. I had no control over my potty habits, had no control over my diapers, other than when I used them. It was mom and dad's job, their responsibility to check to and change me. It was the very thing I had had a nightmare about. Something so simple, and yet so important. The sound of tapes ripping snapped my mind back to focus. The morning air clung to my damp skin as mom pulled the diaper out from under my bottom, leaving me naked on the pad. "Emily?" She asked, reaching for the baby wipes, "Are you ok, baby, is something bothering you, sweetheart?" There was something bothering me, I did need to talk, wanted to talk. But how could I talk to her when I didn't even know what was wrong? How was she supposed to understand when I didn't understand myself? No, I needed to figure this out. I shook my head, looking away from her, letting my eyes wander as she wiped me down. Besides, it was weird talking to the person wiping your butt. "Alright, sweetheart, I just want to make sure you're ok, that's all," Mom said, fanning out a fresh diaper. I stole a glance at her face as she slid the fresh diaper under me. It was the look of someone deep in thought. She caught me, smiled at me as she smoothed some powder into my skin. It was reassuring, comforting. The room was silent as mom finished changing me. It wasn't until she pulled my pajama pants back up and helped me sit up that she said something. "I just want you to know that I love you with all my heart, sweetheart," She said, pausing, "And while all this may be confusing and frustrating and scary, I still love you, we still love you, more than anything in the world, and you can tell us anything, alright sweetie?" I nodded my head, looking her in the eye. A spare tear dripped down my cheek. I tried to wipe it away, tried to hide it, but mom stopped me. She pulled me into a hug, held me close, let my face bury into her neck. "It's ok to cry, sweetheart, it's ok to be upset." And cry I did. The smell of pancakes intensified as mom carried me down the hallway towards the stairs. My head lay rested on her shoulder, my fingers playing with the pacifier clip as she rubbed my back, still soothing me from my cry session. It felt good to get it out, felt good to let my emotions run free. It made me feel more relaxed, happier, calmer. Mom had been right, it was ok to cry. My head bounced on mom's shoulder, jostling me from my thoughts as she carried me downstairs. I picked my head up, watching her every step as we made our way into the kitchen. Dad was already setting food on the table when he noticed our presence. When he noticed my red, puffy face. "Uh oh, why the sad face pumpkin?" Dad asked, meeting us in the kitchen. Mom answered for me as she tossed my soiled diaper in the trash. "She's just getting adjusted still, that's all," mom whispered, smiling at me as she played with my hair. "Well, maybe some chocolate chip pancakes will cheer you up," Dad cooed, pulling me from mom's arms, settling me on his own hip with a kiss to my cheek. "Are you hungry, pumpkin?" I nodded, letting myself sink into his arms as he carried me over to the highchair. I was reluctant to let go, but let him set me down and buckle me up. I still hated the highchair, still hated what it signified, but at the same time, I tolerated it, much like I tolerated my crib and even the changing table. It wasn't like I had much choice in the matter anyway. Dad finished sliding the tray into place, making sure it locked with the telltale click before reaching for the "Daddy's Princess" bib he loved so much. He pulled it around my neck, tying it behind me while mom fixed a plate for me, making sure to cut up all of my food into bite-size pieces, making sure that a toddler could eat without choking. The way they worked together, the way they cared for me made it seem like I had never stopped being a toddler in the first place. Like I had always just been a big baby. And maybe I had. Maybe I had just been pretending to be a big girl and my parents knew that I was really just a baby. Maybe that's why they put me back in diapers. Mom finished fixing my plate and set it on the tray for me to eat along with a sippy cup of water. My stomach growled in anticipation as I reached for the fork, picking it up how I had been shown, like a toddler. Again, I didn't care and there was no reason to fuss over it. I stabbed a piece of pancake and stuffed it into my mouth, enjoying the warm, gooey, chocolatey, sweetness exploding over my taste buds. Nutritional, no, tasty, yes. It did cheer me up, made me smile a bit as I reached for another piece. "Emily," Mom warned, "Don't forget your fruit and eggs." I nodded at her mid-bite as I scoffed down another piece of pancake. "I won't," I said, reaching for a strawberry to please her, enjoying its refreshing tartness. It wasn't that I didn't like strawberries, it was just that the pancakes tasted so much better, and they had chocolate chips in them. A few more minutes passed in silence as everybody ate. It wasn't until the end of breakfast that Dad said something. "Hey pumpkin," Dad said, waiting for me to look up at him. "Mommy and daddy were thinking that we should get out of the house and do something today." He paused, waiting for my reaction, but all he got was a blank stare as my mind processed the information. Today. Outside. Me. Diapers. Baby. Public. "I... I don't want to..." I mumbled, my blush coming back, hoping that this conversation would be over and that I could just enjoy another boring day indoors. But dad wasn't having it. In fact, he practically ignored my answer. "We were thinking that it would be fun to go and have a picnic at the park," He said, "Maybe even play on the playground a bit. Burn off some energy." I shook my head. "I don't want to..." I was louder this time, more forceful. Again, dad didn't listen or chose not to listen. "We know you're worried about being seen in public, and we understand, the park we found is about an hour away and it's supposed to be really..." "I don't want to!" I screamed at him, crossing my arms across my chest, standing my ground. "Not dressed like a stupid baby." Neither mom nor dad flinched. Neither one reacted in the way I wanted them to. I wanted them to be angry, wanted them to be made, wanted them to give me a reason, an excuse to scream. But they didn't. Mom spoke up. "Emily, sweetheart, that's not your inside voice, and that wasn't very nice of you." She paused for a moment, looking me in the eye. "You need to apologize to daddy and say you're sorry." I glared at her, huffing, refusing to give in, refusing to lower my arms, to apologize for what I had done. Why couldn't they understand, why couldn't they just listen for a second, why couldn't they understand I didn't want to go. "Emily." Mom said again, her mom-look more forceful than before. "Do you need a timeout or are you going to apologize to daddy?" I stole a glance over at dad, trying to figure out my next move, trying to figure out how to spin this so I came out on top. Dad didn't seem to have any emotion, maybe a bit of hurt in his eyes, disappointment, but his demeanor was calm. It didn't give me much to work with. "Emily, you're going to apologize one way or another, it can be now or it can be after a time out." I looked back over to mom, our eyes locking for a moment, and then I shifted my gaze back to dad. I swallowed, looking down at the plate in front of me, refusing to look back at either of them, trying to hide my shame. "I'm sorry, daddy," I mumbled under my breath. "Emily, you need to speak up and look at daddy." I did as I was told and held my chin up, locking eyes with dad. He was still waiting so patiently, was still so calm. "I'm sorry, daddy," I said again, louder this time, my voice shaking as the words escaped my throat. I could feel my cheeks reddening again, could feel tears forming in the corner of my eyes from the embarrassment of being scolded like a toddler in her terrible twos. But I was a toddler, and this was my reminder. "Thank you for saying sorry, pumpkin," Dad said, finally speaking up. "And I'm sorry for not listening to you, that wasn't very nice of me either." Mom reached over, wiping my tears away with a napkin. "Thank you for apologizing, sweetheart, that was very nice of you." With that we went back to eating, only I wasn't hungry anymore. I sat in silence, my head hung, down, my eyes focused on the pancake I was pushing around my plate. I wiped a few more tears away. I just wanted to be let down, wanted to be by myself for a minute, wanted privacy. "Are you full, pumpkin?" I looked up, nodding as I set my fork down, leaning back in the highchair as I waited. "Are you sure you don't want anymore, sweetheart?" Mom asked, "You didn't even finish your pancakes." Again I nodded, slipping the pacifier back into my mouth, my only way of communicating that I didn't want to talk anymore. They might be able to move on in seconds, might be ok with this new punishment, might be ok with reprimanding me as though I were a little baby, but I wasn't. I wasn't used to it, to any of it, and I just needed time to process things, to understand. With breakfast finished, mom and dad cleared the plates while I sat in my highchair. I was still angry at them. Angry that they had disciplined me. Angry that they had treated me like some little child. I didn't even acknowledge dad as he wiped my face and hands off before freeing me from the highchair. "Do you want to watch some cartoons, pumpkin?" I nodded, leading the way into the living room where I made myself comfy on the couch, curling up in the resident blanket as dad turned the TV on. He switched through the channels for a minute before settling on Peppa Pig. It wasn't the most entertaining show to watch, but it was better than doing nothing. Suckling the pacifier, I laid back with my head resting against the arm of the couch, settling in to watch the show. I was already into my third episode by the time mom and dad appeared from the kitchen. "Alright, coolers packed, lunch is packed, everything should be ready to go," Mom said, "I'm going to go shower really quick and then I'll get Emily ready to go." "Sounds good, need me to do anything else?" "Nope, I think we're good," Mom said, heading for the stairs. Dad took a seat on the opposite end of the couch. I glared at him for a second, huffing, before turning back to Peppa. "I'm sorry you're mad at me pumpkin," Dad said, "I didn't mean to make you upset." I didn't answer. Didn't want to answer. I was still mad at him. "Do you want to cuddle for a bit?" I looked over at him, glared at him. He stuck his tongue out in response, making a silly face. It made me giggle a little, slip a little. "Are you sure you don't want to cuddle?" He asked again, holding his arms out, beckoning me over. I glared at him for a minute longer before giving in. I unwrapped myself from the blanket, crawled over to his lap, let him pull me in close and hold me tight. "I pulled the pacifier out for a second, just long enough to speak. "I'm still mad at you," I said, I didn't mean it, but still couldn't bring myself to relent, to give in and be ok. I felt like by giving in that I would be giving up control. I felt like I would be admitting that I was just a baby. And I wasn't ready to do that. "That's ok, pumpkin," He said, patting my leg. "I love you anyway." I smiled at that. Smiled at that daddy-daughter moment as I cuddled further into his side, into his warmth, resting my head against his chest as I settled back in to watch Peppa. It made me feel so little in his arms, so babyish. It brought back memories from when I was younger, from when I would come and cuddle with him after my baths before bedtime. It made me feel warm inside, happy. It made me feel loved. I was so worried about losing control, so worried about slipping back into babyhood that I forgot what it felt like to even be a baby. How good it felt. And yet it still scared me. I still felt the need to fight it at every turn. But this time, this moment, was ok. Mom appeared minutes later with an outfit in one hand and a bag slung over her other shoulder. The outfit consisted of what looked like a yellow summer dress and a pink diaper cover with white ruffles on the back. An outfit that would look admittedly cute on a toddler, it just so happened that I was that toddler. The bag had a gray base with a pastel blue top decorated with little stars. My name was stitched on the side in the same blue. My mind wandered for a second, tried to figure out what the bag was for. And then I saw the baby wipes sticking out of one of the side pockets. A diaper bag. It was a diaper bag. My diaper bag. For some reason, it hit me like a brick wall. The thought of needing a portable diaper changing bag made my spine shiver a bit. It reminded me why I was so uncomfortable with giving up control, with accepting toddlerhood. Dad kissed my cheek before urging me off his lap. "Time to let mommy get you dressed and then we can go," He said, patting my diapered butt for good measure as he guided me in mom's direction. Mom smiled, reaching for my shirt. "Arms up, sweetheart." I shook my head, pulled away from her grasp. "Mommy, please, I really don't want to go," I begged, using my best baby voice. Her eyes fell, her smile shrunk, what was that look, understanding? Pity? She knelt down and pulled me into a hug. "I know you don't sweetheart, but sometimes we have to do things we don't like," She said, "Especially when those things are good for us." "But what if somebody sees me?" Dad's turn. "You don't have to worry about that, pumpkin, we're going to a faraway park for that reason." "Daddy's right, sweetheart, nobody will even know. Now come on, let's get you dressed." Minutes later I was strapped into my car seat watching our neighborhood slip by. I suckled the pacifier to try and settle my nerves, to try and calm myself down. My heart raced at the thought of being seen dressed as a baby in public. It made me sick. Made my stomach feel as though it was tied in knots. The sundress didn't help either. It may be good for playing in the hot weather, but there was no way I was going to be hiding all those ruffles along my backside. "Emily," Mom called from the front seat. "You can relax sweetheart, we're going to have fun. Why don't you try to take a nap and we'll wake you up when we get there." I nodded, sitting back in the seat, letting my body rest. I closed my eyes, hoping for some relief, but none came. I was too worked up, too anxious to even think about taking a nap. No, this was going to be a long car ride. Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment down below. It would make my day and I love hearing from everybody. Anyway, the next chapter will be posted next Friday, but if you don't want to wait, you can find Chapter 4 on my Patreon. Until next time: Stay padded, Stay awesome!!! ~SissyatHeart

Chapter 14: One Fussy Baby Bright green. Toxic. Like a radioactive dump. And her mommy was scooping up a spoonful. Chloe's eyes pleaded as she pushed herself back against her highchair. She wanted nothing to do with whatever that green stuff was on the spoon. "It's just peas, Chloe," Julia said, trying to calm her little one. "You like peas." As far as Chloe was concerned, she didn't like peas. She hated them. They looked awful. And as her mommy brought the spoon closer to her mouth, she turned her head away in disgust. There was no way she was going to be eating "peas" anytime soon. "Even mommy likes them," Julia said, putting the spoon in her own mouth. "See there yummy." Chloe still wasn't convinced. She wouldn't even turn her head back. Only daring every once and while to steal a glance at her mommy. Hoping, praying that the peas would disappear. But they didn't. They just kept sitting there on her tray. Julia needed a different approach. With Chloe mentally getting younger and younger, she was having a harder and harder time getting her to eat. That was alright. One more week of baby food difficulties and then a highchair wouldn't even be needed. Well, at least until Chloe was old enough to be eating solids again. But that wouldn't be for some time. In the meantime, Julia had a trick up her sleeve. "Mommy will be right, sweetheart." Chloe watched, shocked as her mommy stood up and took the jar of peas with her, disappearing into the kitchen. She tried to turn her head to see what her mommy was doing, but the straps of her highchair kept her diapered butt firmly against the seat. The sound of rummaging and activity radiated from the kitchen. It gave Chloe butterflies in her stomach. The waiting was killing her. The unknown of whether she had gotten out of eaten the peas or made the situation worse. "Alright, baby girl." Julia cooed, sitting down. "Let's try something else." This time, Chloe had two dishes in front of her. The radioactive green of the peas and the soft, delicate, pink of something else. The pink intrigued her. It looked appetizing and she craned her neck to get a better look. Julia smiled as Chloe perked up. Even in baby form, she knew Chloe liked pink. Her big girl's brain might not be fully functional, but the part of her that liked pink was still there. "Here we go, Chloe, let's try this one." Chloe was still hesitant to open her mouth but after some gentle coaxing, she allowed her mommy to spoon in the pink puree. And she was glad she did. It Smooth and sweet and Fresh. Like a smoothie. A hint of banana mixed with strawberry. There was something else too. Something familiar. Sweet, but different from the fruit. It added a creaminess to the mixture. A richness. Then it hit her. Her mommy's milk. There was some of her mommy's milk mixed in with the fruit. And so she opened her mouth for more. Only this time, the spoon had peas. And Chloe hadn't noticed. Startled by the change, she immediately spit out the toxic stuff only for her mommy to catch it with the spoon and push it right back in her mouth. She had no choice. She had to swallow it. And so she did. Shuddering with disgust as the peas went down her throat. Glaring at her mommy with a pout. "Don't give mommy that look. They didn't taste that bad." Julia said, scooping up some more of the green stuff. And she was right. They didn't taste that bad. They didn't taste good either. They were just kind of there. A bland mush that oozed around her mouth until she inevitably swallowed them. Still, Chloe didn't want anymore. When the next spoonful was held up to her lips, Chloe turned away, again. Her eyes still held the same pouty look, but now they were being used to sweet talk. She gave the cutest most innocent look possible, kicked her legs slightly, and pointed at the fruit. Her eyes seeming to ask, "Mommy, I really don't like peas, can I please have some more strawberry and banana." Julia shook her head and put Chloe's hand down. "Baby can have her fruit after she finishes her peas." Chloe slumped back. She didn't want to eat her peas. She just wanted the fruit. Glancing up, she found the peas still held in her face. She felt defeated. And so she did the only thing she could do. She opened her mouth and let the spoon inside. She didn't even bother tasting the peas before quickly swallowing the toxic substance. "Good girl, Chloe." Julia praised, scooping up more peas. "Mommy's proud of you for eating your peas." Chloe didn't care. She just wanted to eat her fruit and then go play. And so as the next spoonful came closer, she obediently opened her mouth. By time lunch was over, Chloe ended up with more peas on her face and bib than she did her mouth. She had enjoyed every bite of her fruit, but now she was stuffed. Lethargic even as her mommy cleaned her up and took her bib off. Julia could tell her little one was tired. She could see it in her eyes as she unbuckled her from the highchair. Still, it wasn't naptime yet and Chloe could use some play to make sure she was good and tired for her afternoon nap. "Alright, up we go baby girl," Julia cooed as she lifted Chloe up, pinching the back of her diaper as she did. Wet. Just a little bit though. A diaper change could wait until naptime. In the living room, Julia set Chloe in her playpen before making herself comfortable on the couch. She needed to make a phone call. Looking around her confined space, Chloe took inventory of her toys. Or what was left of them. Over the past week, her mommy had been putting away toys that were meant for "bigger babies". Chloe was big. At least she thought she was big. But her mommy obviously didn't agree. Huffing, she crawled over to one of her more complex toys. It was a shape sorter. Something she used to be an expert at. Now, it felt as though the toy was getting harder and harder every time she played with it. It was frustrating. Still, she tried her luck at fitting the shapes to their proper places. "Hi, yes, I would like to check on an order... For Julia Ashton... Yes, I can wait." Putting her phone down for a second, Julia watched Chloe struggle to find the right spot for a square. The look of focus and determination on her little one's face was so adorable. Just to think that a few weeks before and Chloe wouldn't have been caught dead playing with such an infantile toy. And now. Now it was almost too hard for her to finish. Julia would have to take a mental note to replace it later. Chloe caught a glimpse of her mommy watching her and looked up almost as if to ask, "Mommy am I doing this right?" The response back she got back? A smile. But that was all she needed. A smile said I love you. A smile said I care about you. A smile said everything that an eight-month-old baby needed to hear. "Yes, I want both the crib and the bassinet... Let's go with an off white, maybe a beige color... That sounds great." Julia chuckled slightly as she watched Chloe get bored with her shape sorter and move on. Her attention span was almost too cute to bear. One second she could be completely focused on something and the next she was off and running. Well, crawling, but same difference. Chloe's language skills may be deteriorating. And fast. But she knew she had overheard her mommy say something about a crib and a bass a something. She already had a crib. Why did she need a new one? And what was a bass a something? Her thoughts didn't last long though. It was too much for her baby brain to handle and in just a second the thought was gone from her mind. Her new focus was on a set of rattles. Each one making a different sound. Like the instruments to a band. They were great fun to shake and bang around. And so Chloe set off to play, giggling at her silliness as she did so. "Let's go with cream for the nursing chair... Yep, a matching ottoman would be great... The walls? Two pink, two grey... A stencil for the pink would be oh so cute." Julia was having a hard time keeping a straight face. On one hand, she was having a serious conversation. A very important conversation at that. On the other hand, she was watching her baby girl giggle and bounce as she explored her playpen. The look of pure, infantile joy on her face from the most basic things. Joy only a true baby could express. As Chloe played, the sound of her mommy's conversation was drowned out. Both by her play and other business she was attending to. Business attaining towards lunch. A business she had no control over. She froze in her tracks, pausing for just a second as her body took over. A slight pressure in her tummy and a focused gaze on her face. And then just like a hundred times before, a poopy slid easily into the back seat of her diaper. Unfazed, Chloe went right back to playing. "Yes, babyproofing is an absolute necessity... No, I've already got a carseat and the likes thereof... Yep, two weeks... Ok, thanks." As Julia's conversation continued on, her sixth sense caught sight of something suspicious. Chloe paused from her play for a second. Just a second. A look of concentration came over her face and then she was off playing again. If Julia didn't know any better, she would say that her little one made a stinky right in her diaper. Whether it was weird or not, the very notion of her daughter's soiled diaper brought a genuine smile to her face. After so much work in unpotty training, Chloe was finally using her diaper without a care in the world. Not even a second thought. It was just something that came naturally. Just like it should be. Chloe, having thoroughly exhausted herself, ended her train of play with her stuffed animals. Mainly her bunny that seemed to magically appear in the pile. Crawling over to bunny, Chloe curled up with her bunny against her chest, using the other stuffies as a pillow. She was tired and ready for a nap. Gazing up, Chloe's eyes met with her mommy's and she sighed. The look from her mother said it all. Chloe didn't need to worry about anything. "Yes, thank you so much... It's really appreciated... Ok, bye." With her phone call finally finished, Julia stood up and reached down for her baby girl. Just by the slight stench alone, she could tell that Chloe needed a fresh diaper. And as she lifted her baby up, Julia knew it was time to get her Chloe tucked into her crib. The poor baby was rubbing her sleepy eyes and getting fussier by the second. Moments later, Chloe was laying on her changing table with a pacifier in her mouth. She let her mind wander as her onesie and diaper were undone. She didn't even notice her legs being held in the air as her bottom was wiped clean. It was just another typical diaper change. One of many that she would experience throughout the day. It was more of a chore than anything else. Being stopped of her play or pulled from the warmth of her crib. It seemed as though she was always being changed at times that weren't convenient to her. But that was life. She was a baby. And babies have no control over when their diapers are changed. That's up to their mommy's. "There we go, sweetheart. All fresh and clean." Julia soothed, tossing the dirty diaper in the diaper pail. Picking up her little one, she carried her over to the rocking chair and settled in. Working her blouse and nursing bra off so that Chloe could nurse. And Chloe did just that. She took no coaxing. No convincing. She latched onto her mother's nipple just like any baby would. Suckling fast at first. But slowing down as the milk flowed into her waiting mouth. She felt happy. Content. Loved. And soon she was fast asleep. Her mouth still working at her mother's breast as though it were a pacifier. Chapter 15: An Icky Day A soft pitter-patter filtered into Julia's ears as she rolled over in bed. Peeking her head out from under the covers, she groaned at the sight. Rain. And not just rain, but darkness. The kind of darkness that would linger throughout the day. Not wanting to get up, Julia pulled her covers back over her head, blocking out what little light there was. She didn't want to move. It was the kind of day where one laid about like a sloth. Only moving if absolutely necessary. And for Julia, that meant until she heard her little one's happy babbles over the baby monitor. Wait! Chloe. Newborn. Today. Energized, Julia did a one-eighty in her bed, half sitting up as she did so. Her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. Excitement. Pure unadulterated excitement filled her body. Like a child on Christmas morning. An unbearable, giddy joy overtaking her as she admired the nursery's newest addition. She had just finished putting the finishing touches on it the night before. And now. Now she could just relax and admire the infantile bed. A mixture of pastel pink and creamy white accented with oh so adorable polka dots and flowers. The telltale canopy letting all know its purpose. A bassinet. The epitome of infancy. A bed used for newborns. And it was missing just that. A newborn. An adorable little infant all swaddled up, suckling at the soothing pacifier between their lips. Chloe would be that newborn. Julia smiled at the thought. Soon. Tonight, Chloe would undergo her final regression. Something Julia had been waiting for all summer. And she couldn't wait. She was ready to get her baby girl back. Laying back, Julia sighed, staring up at the ceiling. It was hard to believe that Summer was almost over. She had enjoyed every second of it. Any and all guilt she first had about regressing Chloe had vanished. Her little one wouldn't have regressed so easily if she herself didn't want to be. Knowing that brought Julia comfort. Knowing that her daughter was happy to be her mommy's precious little baby again. It was something they both needed. A fresh start. Speaking of Chloe, what time was it? Reaching for her phone, Julia checked the time and nearly had a heart attack. Nine-thirty. Way past when she would normally hear her little one's happy babbles over the baby monitor. Maybe she just slept in today? A part of Julia knew better than that. Her motherly instincts kicked in and a lump formed in her stomach. Time to check on the baby. Slipping out of bed, Julia pulled on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt before walking the few steps over to the nursery door. Gently, she cracked open the nursery door and stepped inside. Her senses lighting up with the new environment. The sweet, infantile smell of baby powder mixed with the soft stench of a soiled diaper filled her nose. The smell of a nursery. Nothing out of the ordinary. It brought her a sense of calm. Stepping towards the crib, the soothing sound of gentle nursery rhymes masked her steps. Chloe was curled up in the corner of her crib, eyes half-open. Julia couldn't tell if she was awake or not. "Hey, little one," Julia cooed, reaching down to rub Chloe's back. "It's time to get up." No response. Chloe didn't stir from her spot. In fact, she seemed to curl up tighter, squeezing her bunny against her chest. Her bunny. Her comforter. Her soother. Something was definitely wrong. "Hey Chloe, what's wrong baby girl?" Julia tried again. This time stroking a bit of hair from her little one's face, exposing her eyes. They had bags under them. Almost as though she hadn't slept at all. Chloe finally moved, rolling over as she gave a pained whine. A whine that said, "Mommy, I don't feel so good." Her glossy, tired eyes adding to her pitiful look. The look of a sick baby girl. And indeed, she didn't feel good. Chloe couldn't describe how she felt. Not to herself and certainly not to her mommy. She was tired, her tummy ached, her head hurt, she was cold, and her whole body felt icky. She just wanted her mommy. She Needed her mommy. Needed her mommy to make her feel better. To take the icky feeling away. She whined again. Wincing as pain erupted from her belly. A single tear dripped down her cheek. "Oh, baby, you don't so good," Julia soothed, feeling Chloe's forehead. Warm. But not to warm. Maybe a slight fever. She would need to check her temperature to be sure. Which reminded her. Diaper. Julia rubbed Chloe's stomach reassuringly as she moved to unbutton a few snaps along the crotch of her sleeper. And she wished she hadn't. Poop. More like diarrhea. And not where it was supposed to be. It was all over Chloe's back. The poor baby was caked in the stuff. A blowout. And a bad one at that. The poor baby was definitely sick. Another whine. This time Chloe held her arms out and she looked up at her mommy with puppy dog eyes. She just wanted everything to feel better. Wanted her mommy to cuddle and soothe her. She didn't feel good. Her bottom lip quivered as her emotions took over. She didn't know what to do. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Julia's heart broke once Chloe started crying. She felt so powerless. She wanted to take all the pain away but life doesn't work like that. The only thing she could do was try and make her baby girl as comfortable as possible. And that started with getting her cleaned up. Scooping Chloe up, Julia held her tight, being careful to only rub her upper back as she carried her out of the room. This seemed to amplify Chloe's fit who's cries turned to screaming and kicking as she was brought to the bathroom. The bathroom was clearly wasn't where she wanted to be. After all, even as a baby, Chloe knew that being in the bathroom meant one thing and one thing only. Bathtime. Chloe didn't feel good. Why couldn't her mommy understand that? She just wanted to be snuggled up on her mommy's lap, not bathed. Her mommy wasn't listening to her. So she did the only thing she could do, she kicked and screamed. She had a fit. But even with all her kicking and screaming, she wasn't getting anywhere. Her mommy just kept cooing at her and the bath was started. All Chloe could do was stare at the water as she was pulled tight against her mommy's chest. A hand running lovingly through her hair as she was calmed down. She was about to have a bath and she didn't have a single say about it. Once Chloe calmed down, Julia knelt down on the floor and laid her baby girl in front of her. The bath mat would have to be sacrificed. Carefully, she finished unbuttoning Chloe's sleeper and used it to wipe off most of the poop before pulling the soiled thing off her. She had no plans in trying to wash it. It simply went in the trash. Next was the diaper, and Julia expected the worst as she untaped the wretched thing, holding her breath as she pulled it out from under Chloe's bottom. A sigh of relief. It was almost like Chloe just decided to poop outside her diaper last night. Her diaper area itself was actually fairly clean. Her back on the other hand... Well, let's just say Julia wished there was a baby restart button. Chloe was on her stomach, squirming in discomfort. She had tried to crawl away, but her mommy had held her still as her bottom was wiped clean. Chloe winced at the thought. Each and every wipe had stung as it was dragged across her bottom. She would have cried if she had any tears left. She didn't even feel like whimpering at this point. She felt defeated. Like a ragdoll. She just wanted to curl up and forget about everything. Once Julia had her baby girl fairly clean, she picked her up under her arms and set her in the tub. Chloe seemed to melt in her arms as she was laid back. Bath time was usually mixture of giggles and screams, but today it was neither of those. Chloe just seemed resigned. Grateful even. Julia wasn't going to push her luck though. She knew better. The longer she took, the more likely Chloe was to start fussing. So she grabbed a washcloth. Chloe could feel herself drifting off to sleep as her back was rubbed soothingly. Her mommy kept cooing at her as the washcloth worked its way around her body. Not a single spot was missed. And that was ok. The warm water made her feel better. Her tummy and head still hurt, but it was the first time she had felt warm since the night before. And the washcloth. The washcloth worked its own magic. Everwhere it seemed to touch, the icky feeling on her skin was washed away. Her mommy was right. A bath did make her feel better. After the bath. Julia laid a somewhat conscious Chloe down on her changing table, a whimper escaping her lips as she was pulled away from the warming comfort of her mommy. Julia cooed, slipping a paci in her baby's mouth as she rubbed her tummy. It worked. Chloe's eyes closed and her body relaxed. The poor baby was exhausted. She needed to sleep. It would make what comes next much easier and less traumatic. Before any diapering, Julia needed to check her little one's temperature and give her some medicine. Out from under the changing table, she grabbed a rectal thermometer, a baby Benadryl and a baby anti-diarrheal, both liquid doses, and a medicine paci. First up was Chloe's temperature. Gently, Julia pushed her baby's legs to her chest and worked the end of the thermometer into her little one's bum. Awake, there was no telling how Chloe would react. But asleep, she would never know. It only took a few seconds before the thermometer beeped. One hundred point three. A slight fever. A call to the doctor would definitely be happening. Next up, the medicine. Julia took one of the doses and filled the pacifier dispenser with it. All she had to do was switch it out with Chloe's paci and wait until she sucked it down. A slight grimace crossed her sleeping baby's face each time and then it was done. Time for a fresh diaper. Working fast and gentle, Julia lathered a thick layer of cream all over Chloe's back and bottom. Both were red from having had diarrhea caked all over. It would help with the soreness. Julia followed this with yet another diaper and a clean sleeper. Chloe groaned as she was stirred from her sleep. Rubbing her eyes, she frowned at the taste in her mouth. A hand patted her diapered bottom. Diapered bottom? Looking up, she realized she was laying in her mommy's lap. The last thing she remembered was sitting in the bathtub. She didn't put much thought into it though and curled into her mommy, nestling against the warmth radiating from her. She was still cold. But she was feeling better. It felt good to be in a clean diaper and warm, fluffy sleeper. She still had a headache, but it was better than this morning. A slight, dull ache replacing the throbbing pain from earlier. Her tummy still hurt too. But it was a different kind of pain. More hunger and less sickness. Her growling tummy seemed to confirm it. Julia felt something at her breast. A little head nestling up. Two adorable hands taking hold. Gentle, yet demanding. A baby in search of food. Looking down, Julia smiled at her baby. "Are you hungry, sweetheart?" A rhetorical question none the less. Julia already knew the answer, but seeing her little one perk up at the mention of food cemented the notion. Chloe whined as she was moved into a laying position. She had been comfortable but knew better than to argue with her mommy. Besides, her tummy was doing the talking at this point. And she watched as her mommy freed her breast, leaving her nipple exposed and ready for Chloe's little mouth. With her little one situated, head cradled in the crook of her arm, Julia pulled her baby in close and helped her find the nipple. The latch was near perfect. Julia needed to only move slightly before settling back to rock. Humming softly as her little one suckled at her breast. It only took a few seconds before she felt her milk let down. A slight pinch as Chloe suckled hard. Then the comforting suction as her baby found rhythm. The warm milk soothed her achy tummy. The warmth filling her body like hot chocolate on a cold winter day. Chloe could lay there all day. Suckling at her mother's breast. It brought her comfort. Made her feel loved in ways she couldn't explain. It just felt right. It was where she belonged. A baby at her mother's breast. It was a good while before Julia felt Chloe's suckling ease up. Looking down, she smiled at the sight. Chloe's eyes were closed. She was sound asleep, still nestled against her breast, suckling as though she was nursing a pacifier. Reaching over to the side table, Julia grabbed a pacifier and gently coaxed Chloe off her nipple. A slight groan came from the sleeping baby as she stirred in her sleep. Her eyes opening for just a second as Julia slipped the paci between her lips and soothed her back to sleep. Chloe's regression would have to wait. Chapter 16: Newborn Once More Rocking. Like a hammock in a gentle breeze. Warm and snug. Like a family snuggled together. Comfortable. Chloe's brain slowly inched into consciousness. Her head felt heavy. Her entire body felt heavy. Weak even. Her eyes blinked, opening slightly. Light filtered in through the canopy above her. Morning. But her crib didn't have a canopy. Where was she? She reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes, but her arms wouldn't work. Couldn't work. A slight panic started to build in her chest and she suckled her pacifier for comfort. She tried to move her arms again. Nothing. They were pinned by her side. Encased inside some kind of cloth. A blanket of some sort. The same with her legs. She couldn't seem to kick out from her restraint. A thought drifted through her mind. Swaddled. More panic. Looking around the cozy interior, all she managed to do was flop her head over to the side. It just felt so heavy. So weak. Her eyes watered. She was scared. Confused. Panicked. She just wanted her mommy. Needed her mommy. A stray tear dripped down her cheek. She was struggling to hold back her emotions. It felt like she couldn't breathe. More tears. Her mind was racing a million miles a second. It was too much. It was all too much. She was scared. She was panicked. Her paci fell from her mouth. She was crying. Screaming. It was the panicked wail of a newborn baby. And that was what Julia woke up to. A crying, screaming baby. Her baby. Her body worked on overdrive, pumping her system full of adrenaline as she bolted out of bed. The bassinet was only an arms reach away and she quickly pulled open the canopy, amplifying Chloe's panicked wail. "Shh, shh, it's alright. It's alright, mommy's here." Julia cooed, rubbing Chloe's stomach. Her vision was still dazed as her mind struggled to fight off the fog of sleep. Chloe kept kicking and struggling. She wanted out. She felt claustrophobic. The swaddle was too much. Too restricting. Too controlling. Like she was trapped. She was picked up. Cradled in her mommy's arms and bounced gently. She was still screaming. She wanted out. She needed out. Needed control. Her paci was slipped into her mouth. She spit it back out. More screaming. The paci was slipped back in. This time, held in place. More kicking. More squirming. More rocking and soothing. She was tiring herself out. She had felt weak before but now she couldn't even lift her head. Couldn't turn it. It was resting, like a useless sack of rocks in the crook of her mommy's arms. She suckled her paci. The infantile thing bringing her comfort. Easing her panic. She just kept looking at her mommy's eyes. Eyes that stared back at her. Eyes filled with love and security and safety. Julia didn't dare to move. Chloe had finally calmed down. The poor baby had made herself sick with her tantrum. And Julia didn't think either one of them would survive another. Walking, slowly, she moved her way into the nursery, too the nursing chair. Chloe was still staring up at her mommy's eyes. Not as though she had a choice otherwise. Her head was immobile. Her entire body was immobile. It was scary. That was why she panicked. Why she freaked out. She wasn't ready to give up control. And yet she didn't have a choice. She was a baby. And baby's don't make decisions. There mommy's do. And even though that was scared, there was a bit of comfort in the thought. No worries, no responsibilities, no stress. All she had to do was be a baby. A cute, adorable baby. It seemed so simple. And yet, it was so scary. With her little one cradled in her lap, Julia unclipped her nursing bra, exposing her breasts to the world. She shivered. With her bra undone, she was practically naked from the waist up. She hadn't slept with a shirt on and didn't think to grab one before picking up Chloe. Oh well, too late for that. Instead, she grabbed from the side of the chair and draped it around both herself and her baby girl. Darkness. Chloe didn't mind having the blanket draped around her. And it wasn't completely dark. She could still see her mommy who was staring down at her. Chloe felt herself being moved. Pulled closer. She still couldn't move. Something teased her lips. Something warm and soft, yet firm. A nipple. Instinct took over. Chloe's mouth opened and the nipple was pushed inside her mouth. She clamped down, sucking. Nothing happened. More sucking. Harder. Impatient. A squirt of milk. Warm, thick, sweet. More sucking. More milk. This time the stream didn't stop. Chloe's suckling eased up. Her nursing settling into a gentle rhythm. Her eyes closed as she melted into her mommy's arms. She hadn't realized she was so hungry. Her mind wandered off. Her eyes closed. Her body felt like it was on autopilot. Her mind wandered farther. The world seemed to disappear. Fading off into nothing. A memory drifted through her brain. ********** Chloe whined as she was laid down on her changing table. She wasn't ready for bed. She wanted to play. To move. To have fun. She had only started feeling better a couple of days ago and ever since then things had gotten weird. Weird as in she was concerned. Worried even. She had noticed a new bed, smaller than her crib in her mommy's room. She didn't know what it was for, but she had a feeling it was for her. Other things bothered her too. Her highchair had disappeared. Her only food source had been nursing sessions with her mommy. Not that she minded, it was just weird. Her playpen disappeared to. Along with all her toys. In its place was some kind of swing that her mommy laid her in. And it was boring. Boring as in going stir crazy stuck inside during a pandemic boring. All she could do was swat at a little stuffed butterfly swinging above her and that got old quick. Even the TV was off. Her life seemed to just be eating, sleeping, and pooping and nothing else. And it was awful. "Alright baby, let's get your diapee changed and get you all snug for beddie-bye," Julia cooed, undressing Chloe, leaving her in nothing but a messy diaper. Chloe hadn't even realized she needed to be changed. Laying back, she huffed, staring up at the ceiling. A paci was slipped into her mouth and she suckled it as her mommy went about changing her diaper. Grabbing a few baby wipes, Julia hummed to herself as she cleaned up Chloe's poopy bum. She had been smiling all day. Chloe's regression had been delayed after she got sick. But finally, after four days of waiting, four long days, it was time. Time for Julia to get her newborn baby back. Just in a nick of time to. They only had the house for another week before they needed to be packed and headed home. Chloe's bottom was all clean. Pulling the messy diaper out from under her baby's bum, Julia bundled it up with a practiced hand and set it to the side. Chloe watched as her mommy grabbed the fresh diaper, and then her view was blocked as her legs were held up. She could hear the rustling of the diaper and soon felt the soft, fluffy padding under her butt as her legs were laid down. From her experience, and she had plenty of experience, next up was diaper cream. The cool sticky diaper paste was lathered throughout her diaper area. How many diaper changes had she had? Her face wrinkled as she thought about it. Some time passed. She gave up. She couldn't even remember how many diaper changes she had had today, let alone in total. It had just become another part of life. An annoying, mundane one at that. "Almost finished, sweetie, bear with mommy for just another minute," Julia cooed, pressing down on Chloe's tummy. The baby was getting restless, fussy. Obviously finished with her diaper change. The only problem was that she didn't have a diaper covering her adorable little baby bum yet. Reaching for the powder, Julia sprinkled a healthy amount on both Chloe's front and backside, making sure to rub in the sweet-smelling powder. She didn't think she would ever get over the smell. It was so infantile, so precious, so, perfect. It was one of the many perks of having a baby around. The entire house always smelled like baby. "Finally," Chloe thought, as the thick diaper was pulled up between her legs. She never noticed when she needed to be changed, but she could always tell the difference after she was changed. Somehow, it was comfortable having all that bulkiness between her legs. The diaper was so soft and warm. So safe and secure. It made her feel cared for. It made her feel loved. With Chloe all freshly changed, Julia tossed the stinky diaper in the diaper pail and whisked her baby girl into her arms, planting kisses all over her cheeks and forehead. Something that earned her some cute, happy baby giggles. Usually, Julia would get Chloe dressed in her onesie and sleeper and then nurse her to sleep, but tonight there was an extra step. Kneeling onto the ground, Julia laid her baby girl down on a large muslin blanket. Perfect for swaddling. Chloe giggled as her feet were tickled and she tried to crawl away from her mommy. She didn't get far though and was pulled back and flipped onto her backside. She tried again. Giggling as she kicked her feet up at her mommy. These to were caught, and much to Chloe's delight, tickled. She was laughing so hard that her side was starting to hurt and soon she settled down and let her mommy slip an onesie over her head. It was pulled down her body and three snaps later it was buttoned at her crotch. Next was the sleeper, and Chloe was soon zipped up. Another snap, this one to keep curious baby's from pulling their sleepers off. And finally, time to cuddle and nurse, Chloe's favorite time. At least, that's what she thought. Julia had a different idea. With her baby girl seemingly happy and distracted, Julia pulled one of the corners of the blanket across her baby's body and tucked it underneath her, pinning one of her arms. Chloe giggled at this and Julia smiled back at her, happy that her baby girl didn't seem to mind the new bedtime routine. Next, Julia pulled the other side of the blanket across her baby, pinning her other arm, and passed it underneath her so it was sticking out the other side. More giggles. More smiles. Lastly, the bottom of the blanket was pulled up tied into a knot with the previous blanket corner. Chloe was swaddled. And still giggling as she kicked at the blanket restraining her. Chloe wasn't sure what was going on. She knew it was bedtime and she knew it was time to nurse. She knew that, but she didn't know why she was wrapped in a blanket. Another weird thing to top off her day. She didn't mind it though. The blanket was warm and comfortable. And her mind was already moving on as she was picked up and brought over to the food chair. The breast chair. The milk chair. Whatever you want to call it, the place she got to eat. And that was all she cared about. Half an hour later. Julia was rocking, back and forth, gently as she hummed a soothing nursery rhyme. Chloe was still nursing. Still eating. But she was getting tired. Julia could tell just by looking at her. The baby's eyes were starting to droop and her suckling was starting to slow. Good thing too, because she was about out of milk. Her breast was feeling light, empty. Another minute. Looking down, Julia could tell Chloe was ready to sleep. Her eyes were barely open. Chloe was full. Stuffed. Her belly gorged on all the breast milk she could ever want. That warm, sweet, thick milk. Her mommy's milk. She wanted more. Wanted to keep nursing but her eyes felt so heavy. It felt so good to close them. So relaxing. It was hard to focus. Hard to suckle. Hard to nurse. She sighed, letting her body sink deeper into her mommy's arms. She felt so warm. So comfortable. So safe. Her eyes closed. Her mind started to wander. Started to drift off. The world around her seemed to shrink. Seemed to stop. She was barely conscious. Ready to welcome sleep. And then she felt something. Felt a prick. It didn't hurt. But it was there. Right on the side of her neck. Opening her eyes, Chloe caught sight of her mommy. But for just a second. Some kind of covering came over her. A canopy of some sort. Looking around, she couldn't tell where she was at. It was dark. Her brain was already foggy with sleep and her eyes pleaded to close. To sleep. A gentle rocking started. It was so soothing. Music played. It was so relaxing. It was hard to keep her eyes open. They wanted to close. So she closed them. Her mind wanted to wander. So she let it wander. And soon. Soon she drifted off to sleep. Off to baby dreamland. Her diaper already growing warm and heavy. Ready to be changed. Chapter 17: Summers End Driving. Well, Chloe wasn't driving, she was riding shotgun. Her friend, Becca, was at the wheel. And she just pulled into a Starbucks drive-through. A pick-me-up for the night ahead. A night of partying, drinking, and well, getting into trouble. What else were teens supposed to do on a Friday night? Buzzing and a slight, distinct ping rang throughout the car. That obnoxious, bright light beckoning for Chloe's attention. Looking down, a lump formed in her stomach. A text. From her mother. "Great. Just great." Chloe thought, unlocking her phone. "What do you want clo?" Becca asked. No response. Chloe sat there, staring down at her mother's text. She didn't want to respond. Didn't know how to respond. She was already in enough trouble as it was, better to just not acknowledge her mom and deal with the consequences later. "Chloooeee, hello? You there?" No response. "I mean, seriously, why did her mom always have to be up in her business. She wasn't that bad of a kid. She just hated school. A lot. And sucked at it. God, being a kid had been so much easier. At least she and her mom got along back then. "Chloe!" This time an elbow was added for good measure. "Ow!" What was that for?" Chloe chided back, finally responding. "I'm trying to order..." Becca snarked, motioning towards the order screen, her drink was already showing. "Oh, sorry, just a vanilla latte," Chloe said. Her gaze drifted back down to her phone. She couldn't help but read and reread that message from her mother. And then. Then the screen went dark. She powered it off. She made her decision. She would deal with it later. Another nudge, this time she responded, taking hold of the warm drink. Smiling at the thought of its magical powers. Every girl needed her Starbucks. She took a sip. Letting that warm, creamy, goodness fill her body. It could only be described as a warm milkshake. A milkshake with a bit of a kick. Absolutely delicious. Becca turned the music up. Bass rocked the car. Chloe took another sip. Kept drinking from the straw. It tasted different. Sweet and creamy, but definitely not a vanilla latte. They stopped talking. The stereo overtaking everything else. That soft, gentle music. Nursery rhymes. One of Chloe's favorites. She smiled, taking another sip. Suckling on that nub. The bass cradled her body. Patting her bottom so gently. So lovingly. She suckled again. Taking comfort in the thick padding of her diaper. It was so warm. So comforting. "Hello," A soft, cooing voice. "Good morning, sweetheart." Chloe opened her eyes, blinking as they worked to focus. "What a weird dream," She thought, eyes still dreary as she nursed from her mother's breast. Warm, sweet milk filled her tummy as she relaxed. Letting her mommy take care of her. That weird dream drifting away, getting pushed back inside her head. Locked behind her headspace. She was a baby. An infant. This was where she was supposed to be. She wasn't a teen. At least, not anymore she wasn't. "Mommy's got a soggy butt to change after baby finishes her breakfast," Julia cooed, patting Chloe's adorable bottom again. "Yes, she does, yes you do." Chloe didn't mind. She liked the attention. Liked being cared for. Liked being a baby. Even if that meant she had to be a mindless infant. She didn't care. "Mommy's got a surprise for you today," Julia continued, stroking Chloe's cheek. "We're headed home. And mommy's had some changes made while we were gone." Chloe's attention perked at that. She had forgotten about home. Forgotten that the summer would end. That she would have to grow back up. It made her panic. Made her scared. She didn't want to be a big girl. She wanted to be a baby. Her mommy's adorable, little baby girl. "Shh, shh, don't worry sweetpea," Julia cooed, rocking gently. "Mommy doesn't plan on having a big girl around the house for a good long while. You make too cute of a baby to just let you grow back up." This brought Chloe some comfort. Knowing that she wouldn't be thrust back into a world of responsibility and difficulties. The comfort of home. The comfort of being cared for. The comfort of zero responsibilities was a magical feeling. And not one that she was ready to give up. But at the same time, she still felt a longing. A small one at that. But still, a longing to be free. To be independent. To be grown up. It hurt her brain just thinking about it. And that's why she was the baby and her mommy was the mommy. So that she didn't have to make those decisions. They were made for her. It was easier that way. It was a little while later when Julia finally felt her baby's mouth pull away from her nipple. "Are you done, little one?" Julia asked, pulling Chloe over her shoulder to pat her back. A gassy baby was a grumpy baby and the last thing she needed for the drive home was a fussy newborn. It didn't take long. Maybe a minute, maybe two, before Julia heard Chloe burp. A burp cloth caught all of her baby's spit-up and after a quick wipe down it was off to the changing table. Chloe whined as she was laid down. All she could do was stare up at her mommy with begging eyes. Pleading eyes. Eyes that said, "Mommy, please don't change my diaper. Diaper changes are cold and uncomfortable." This, of course, was ignored, and Chloe was left little choice but to squirm and whine as the crotch of her sleeper was unbuttoned. The warmth of her sleeper disappearing as fresh, cold air invaded every crack and crevice. Her eyes started to water. Her bottom lip quivered. A meltdown was fast approaching. "Hey, it's alright little one, do you want your paci?" Julia asked, answering the tantrum with a smile all the while cooing to her little one as she rubbed her tummy. Just like any other mother would do with a baby during a fussy change. Chloe scrunched her nose at this. Squirming as she continued to fuss. Kicking her legs to show her disapproval of the inevitable diaper change. "It's alright, sweetheart, mommy will find your paci, yes she will," Julia continued to coo, shushing Chloe as she rooted about one of the drawers. Sure enough, she found a spare paci and promptly offered it to her baby girl. Chloe accepted the pacifier. It was instinct. Something that had been ingrained in her mind. In her little space. She needed the pacifier. Needed it to calm her down. To subdue her emotions. She didn't even struggle as a strap was fastened across her belly. Her cute, little tushie now held still where it belonged. Where her mommy could change her. And that's just what happened. Chloe's diaper was untaped. A chilly wet wipe worked its way across her frontside. And then her legs were raised and the same was done to her backside. It didn't take long and after the initial shock, the coldness didn't bother her. It actually felt good to be wiped clean. To have her diaper area freshened up. And then. Then she felt the familiar comfort of a thick, clean diaper. The same type she had worn and used a hundred times before. That silky soft padding underneath her butt bringing her a subconscious joy. She needed her diapers. And not only because she was unpotty trained. But because they made her feel safe. Made her feel secure. Made her feel Loved. They brought a warmth to her insides that only a mother could bring. That safe and secure feeling. Innocence. A slight sprinkle of powder followed. It filled the already sweet air with a fresh dose of babyhood. And then. Then the diaper was brought up between her legs and taped snuggly against her little tummy. Her belly button barely showing past the diapers rise. It made her feel little. She was little. She was a little baby. An infant. A newborn. It was where she belonged. Minutes later, Julia carried her dosing baby out to the car. She had a few things left to tidy up and pack away before hitting the road and getting Chloe all squared away would be another checkmark on the list. Opening the car door, Julia gently laid Chloe in her carseat. She smiled, thinking back to the trip down. Chloe had been in a forward-facing carseat then. And now. Now here she was, falling asleep in her rear-facing car seat. Eyes barely open as she nursed the paci in her mouth. The sight was precious. Being careful not to wake her baby, Julia slowly buckled the five-point harness. A quick last second diaper check showed Chloe dry and then a blanket was tucked around her sleeping form. "Sleep tight, baby," Julia whispered, pulling the canopy down. Chloe was dreaming. This time it was different though. She was standing atop a staircase, looking down. She was sixteen again. In all her independence. In all her imperfections. It made her feel yucky. Made her feel dirty. She didn't want to be "that kid" anymore. Her attention snapped back to the staircase. Someone, something beckoned her to take a step. To take a leap of faith. So she did. After a second of hesitation, Chloe took a step. Fifteen. She didn't feel much different. A little less rebellious. A little more naive. It felt good though. She took another step. Fourteen. This time. This time she could feel herself grow younger. More innocent. Happier. It felt good. She craved the feeling. Needed it. She took two, quick steps this time. Twelve. Again, younger, smaller, more innocent, happier. It felt good. Made her tummy tickle. She wanted more. Needed more. Needed that innocence. Another two steps. Ten. Her knowledge of the world disappeared. Her entire teen identity disappeared. That kiddish joy and happiness returned, took its place. She wanted to run and play. Wanted to be a kid. She smiled, looking down the staircase at the remaining steps. She was so close. So close to the bottom. Close to that innocence that beckoned. She went to take another step when her world seemed to come alive, rocking and shaking like an earthquake. She was pitched from her feet. The only thing keeping her from falling was the handrail. Her heart raced. Adrenaline pumped. She was scared. Panicked. She didn't know what to do. The staircase seemed to break apart. To crumble. Falling into a void. More panic. More fear. That void was getting closer. Closer to swallowing her up. And then. Then she opened her eyes. "It was just a dream, just a dream," Chloe told herself, nursing her paci. It didn't take long for her adrenaline to recede. For her heart rate to drop. She was in her carseat. The car was moving. Rocking her. Lulling her back to sleep. She thought back to her dream. She longed to be back. To finish her descent down the staircase. She wanted to know what was at the bottom needed to know. Something was weird though. Like a feeling of forgetfulness. How old was she? She couldn't remember. Ten, maybe? She wanted to say she had been older, but it felt like an entire chunk of her life had been hidden from her. Had disappeared. She pushed the thought from her head. It didn't matter. She just wanted to be back in her dream. Back on that staircase. She closed her eyes. Let the car rock her. Comfort her. Lull her. And soon. Soon she was fast asleep. Opening her eyes, Chloe found herself back on the staircase. Further down than before. Younger. She was six now. Sitting under the Christmas tree, present in hand. Excitement. Pure joy filled her youthful face as she tore through the wrapping paper. A barbie doll. The exact one she had been asking for, for months. And Santa had brought it. A great memory. Another step. Five. She forgot. Forgot how to read. How to write. How to do anything. She lost her big kid identity. Became a little kid. Became dependent. Younger. Happier. It felt so good. Another step. Four. She forgot even more. Returned to a time before school entered her life. She was in bed. It was morning. She had just woken up. Immediately her hand shot down to her pullup. Dry. She smiled. She had been trying to stay dry for months and she finally did it. Finally earned her way out of diapers. Another step. Three. Almost a toddler. Her last day in a diaper. She had finally graduated to big girl pullups. It had scared her. She had known it was a good thing, but she didn't want to give up her diapers. She needed that security. That comfort. That innocence. Another step. Two. More was lost. Her little kid identity vanished. She was a toddler now. A baby. Her entire world revolved around her mommy and that all that mattered to her. She was laying down. A changing table. Her mommy was joking with her. Giggling with her as her poopy butt was wiped clean. A diaper change. A moment of bonding. A moment of love. Another step. One. This time an entire year of growing. An entire year of learning rushed through her brain. So much had been gained during that second year of life. And now. Now so much had been forgotten. Tucked away for later. She was a true baby. So dependent. So innocent. So perfect. Another step. Back to the beginning. Back to when she was firstborn. Those first few precious months. A newborn. A fresh slate. A new beginning. Chloe let herself return to that state of dependence. That state of innocence. She couldn't crawl. Couldn't talk. Couldn't do anything. She needed her mommy. Needed her mommy to care for her. Opening her eyes, Chloe suckled her pacifier as she looked about her carseat. She was still there. She was still Chloe. But something was different. Her eyes showed it. Curiosity. Innocence. Dependence. It was like her entire life had been locked away. Tucked into the back of her brain. She had been wiped clean. A fresh slate. Her mental regression had been completed. She had been regressed all the way back to the beginning. Back to infancy. She was a newborn baby. Well, mentally at least. Chapter 18: Epilogue Two. Years. Later. Singing. Singing at the top of her lungs. That was what Julia woke up to. Chloe's adorable singing filtering in through the baby monitor. "Better than an alarm clock," Julia thought, rolling over. Yawning, she fished her phone of the nightstand, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright light. Seven forty-two the screen read. A fairly typical wake-up time for her rambunctious toddler. Laying back, Julia unlocked her phone, tapping the baby monitor app. A video feed of Chloe's crib popped into view and Julia smiled at the sight. It was almost as adorable as the singing itself. Chloe sitting there in her crib, singing her heart out while playing with her stuffed bunny. The same bunny she had gotten so long ago during her initial regression in Florida. Julia sometimes wondered if she did the right thing by regressing Chloe. Pulling her away from the world and all its responsibility and grief. Away from her independence. Her choices. But it was mornings like these that squashed those doubts. Made her realize that she made the best choice possible for her little one. The best choice for Chloe's future. One day, when she was ready of course, Chloe would finish her schooling and move on with life. Albeit, a little delayed, but being behind was better than never catching up. She would be better adjusted. Happier. Prepared. She would be ready for anything life threw at her. It was with this thought that Julia let out a sigh of relief. Content to admire her baby girl for a few more precious minutes. A few more minutes before getting up to go and get the baby out of her crib. ******************** "Mommy!" Chloe cried, seeing the door open. Her little heart filling with joy as she bounced at her crib side. "Good morning sleepyhead," Julia said, smiling as she crossed over to the crib. "How'd we sleep last night?" There was a certain stench in the air. And Julia had her suspicions. "Good mommy," Chloe said, holding her arms up, bunny in hand. Her eyes looking upwards to meet Julia's. They held a certain shine to them. A look of innocence. Carelessness. A look only a baby could give. A look that trusted. A look that loved. "Hmm, I think I know a little girl who needs her butt changed," Julia said, lifting Chloe up. Her little one giggled at this as Julia pulled her into a hug followed by a kiss on her cheek. "I'll take that as a yes," She continued, playfully patting Chloe's diaper as she carried her over to the changing table. The baby definitely stunk a little bit. And the playful pat confirmed her suspicion, Chloe definitely had a load in her diaper. Laying Chloe down, Julia readied the changing supplies while Chloe lay compliant, playing with her bunny. Glancing over every so often to watch what her mommy was doing. Her eyes teeming with curiosity. "Mommy, I help?" Chloe asked as her pajama bottoms were pulled down. Her soiled nighttime diaper on full display. Not an unusual request. "Sure sweetheart, do you want to hold the wipes for mommy?" Julia asked, popping open the container of baby wipes. "Uh-huh," Chloe said, dropping her bunny off to the side as she was handed two wet wipes to hold. They felt so funny in her hands. Usually, they only went against her bottom. But today she was getting to be a big girl. She was getting to help mommy change her diaper by holding the wipes. Something she was more than happy to do. Tapes ripped. Ankles were lifted into the air. "Can you hand mommy a wipe, baby?" Chloe nodded, handing her mommy one of the baby wipes she had. Moments later she felt the familiar feeling of the chilly, soft wipe working its way across her front side. Cleaning her diaper area up. "Good job sweetheart," Julia said, "Now can you hand mommy the other wipe?" Chloe nodded again passing the other baby wipe over to her mommy. She felt accomplished. And as her ankles were lifted over her head a second time, she felt the wipe work its way over her backside, taking with it any poopy left on her bottom. All clean. And she helped her mommy do it. "Good girl," Julia praised, balling up the used diaper. "Now can you help mommy open up your new diapee?" This one was a bit more difficult. But with the help of her mommy, Chloe was able to get her own diaper unfolded and ready to put on. Another accomplishment. And as her mommy slid the fresh diaper under her bottom, powdering her before taping it up, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment for helping with her own diaper change. It made her feel in control. Control where she had none. A responsibility. It made her feel like a big kid. A big kid. She couldn't wait until she was a big kid. Til she could wear pull-ups. Her best friend Becca was already wearing them and Chloe couldn't wait to join her. "Alright kiddo," Julia said, pulling Chloe's pajama bottoms back up, "What do ya say we go get some breakfast?" "Mommy, we have pancake?" "Pancakes it is," Julia said, helping Chloe down of the changing table. With her bunny in her arms and a pat on her bottom, she was off and running. Minutes later, Chloe was sitting on the couch, watching an episode of mickey mouse clubhouse while her mommy cooked breakfast. Her prebreakfast snack of animal crackers and a sippy cup of milk left to occupy her until her mommy finished up in the kitchen. It didn't take long until breakfast was done. "Chloe, breakfast's ready, sweetheart," Julia called, getting Chloe's high chair ready. She could see that Mickey Mouse was still playing and so she moved the highchair so that her little one could still see the TV. And sure enough, a very worried toddler came running around the corner, bunny hugged against her chest with pouty eyes and finger pointing. "Mommy, Mickey," Chloe whined, turning back to watch the show. "I know sweetheart, but look, you can see mickey from your chair," Julia cooed, guiding the little one towards her highchair. Still, Chloe looked unconvinced, trudging slowly towards the chair, turning her head every so often making sure she could still see her show. She didn't even react as bunny was coaxed from her arms. She was too focused on Mickey to care. And when she got close enough to the highchair, whether she liked it or not, Julia lifted her adorable little bottom up and sat her down in the highchair. Both of Chloe's arms were pulled through the shoulder straps before the buckle was snapped closed at her waist. Snug but not tight. Then, Julia slid the tray into place, waiting for the audible click before heading back into the kitchen to grab the baby's breakfast. A potential Mickey Mouse disaster well diverted. Good job mom. The rest of breakfast was uneventful. Both Julia and Chloe finished their plates, Mickey Mouse finally finished up, and then a very sticky toddler was wiped clean after having her fair share of syrup. And then it was back off to the nursery to get Chloe ready for the day. A fresh pair of leggings and an adorable little t-shirt to replaced her jammies from the night before. Then it was just a matter of brushing out the tots hair and getting her teeth brushed before she was off and playing again. And then. Just minutes later, the doorbell rang. Chloe watched, curious to see who it was. And as her mommy pulled open, a familiar face ran in. An adorable big-little girl dressed in an almost too cute romper with her hair done up in pigtails. And she was headed right for Chloe. "Becca!" Chloe cried, jumping up from her toys. The two tots met in a giggling embrace as their mommy's followed them into the room. Both smiling at their little ones as they got started playing. Partners in crime and best friends in babyhood. The two tykes would always have each other as they experienced life for a second time. THE END

Chapter 11: A Messy Morning Chloe's eyes blinked open. It was dark outside, early still. Looking out the window, she could just see the faintest hint of dawn in the sky. Groaning, she closed her eyes, cuddling her bunny to her chest as she snuggled in for a few more precious minutes of sleep. That's all she wanted. Just a few more minutes cocooned in the warmth of her blankets. But why was she so tired? Bits of information filtered into Chloe's brain like a puzzle being pieced together to form a picture. To form an answer. A memory. There was a storm. She remembered lightening and rain and wind. Calling, no screaming for her mommy. The cold chill of a diaper change. Being rocked to sleep. Suckling on something warm and soothing. Her pacifier? No. What was it? A bottle? Had she nursed from a baby bottle? Senses came to her: warm, thick, sweet, but nothing else. There was a hole there. A while later the morning sun started to filter into the nursery. A single ray of sun danced across Chloe's face. Her eyes fluttered open, this time for good, as she stretched out her limbs, yawning around her pacifier. Rubbing the sleep from her tired eyes, Chloe clambered out from under her blanket, stood up, and toddled over to the side of the crib. Or tried to. She tried to stand up. Nothing. Chloe couldn't get her legs to work. It was like they were made of jello. Crawling over to the side of the crib, she tried again to stand. This time using her arms to pull herself up. It worked. Chloe was standing, but her legs were shaky. She strained, begged her legs to work, but they wouldn't. Couldn't. Her arms were doing most of the work and she could feel her legs giving out. She was losing her grip on the rail and was starting to slip back down, powerless to stop herself from falling right on her padded bottom with a squish. A squish? Grimacing, Chloe shifted off her butt. She could feel that the mess on her backside had oozed all over her diaper, even up the front, and it didn't feel good. She hadn't even realized she was messy. Just like a baby. Now well aware of her poop caked bottom, Chloe called her mommy, but all that came out was baby babble. Her brain felt fuzzy. Something was being lost in translation between her brain and voice. No matter how many times she tried to say "mommy" all she managed to do was spit out incoherent babbles and sounds like a baby. It frustrated her. Confused her. So she cried. Cried like the little baby she was. Julia groaned, groping for the baby monitor. Her little one wasn't usually up this early and a lack of sleep made this early morning wake up call even worse. Her fingers found the small device. Switching to the video feed, Julia saw Chloe curled up in the corner of her crib, crying. Bawling. It was then she smiled. The medicine had been working throughout the night. Cementing Chloe in her new age. Chloe loved to great her in the morning by standing at the crib side. It was a morning ritual. Julia would come in and lift her out of the crib, planting multiple kisses as she patted her little one's typically wet diaper. Only now, Chloe wouldn't be able to stand. If she had tried to, it would be no different than a baby trying to walk for the first time. She would need to crawl from now on. There was something else though. Julia's maternal instincts told her something else was wrong. Slipping out from under her covers, Julia headed towards the nursery. There was a crying baby that needed tending to. Her baby. Chloe was still crying in the corner of her crib when her mommy walked in. A single word floated to the forefront of her brain: mama. In between her heavy sobs, Chloe choked out a timid, "mama," before breaking down in even more tears. "What's the matter, baby girl?" Julia asked. She didn't need or expect an answer though. It wasn't that hard to tell what was wrong. There was a faint stench in the air. The smell of a messy diaper. A baby that went poopie in her sleep. The ultimate sign of un-potty training. Julia smiled, stepping towards the crib. Chloe didn't even move from her spot as her mommy reached down to lovingly stroke her hair, soothing her. Coaxing her out from the corner with a guiding hand. The tears stopped. Mommy was here. Mommy would make it better. Seeing as though Chloe was calming down, Julia cooed, "I think mommy has a stinky bum to change this morning," as she lifted her little one onto her hip. Still not a happy baby, but at least the crying had stopped, mostly. Another word came to Chloe, "poop." "Ya, you made a poopie in your diapee," Julia cooed, carrying her baby girl over to the changing table. "That's no reason to cry. Baby's are supposed to make poopies in their diapers." Julia continued, laying Chloe down. Chloe hadn't thought about that. She hadn't liked waking up messy, but she was a baby. That's what babies do. That made her a good girl. A few stray tears were wiped from her eyes. A soothing hand rubbed her belly. Turning her attention back to the world, Chloe eased her sobs down to nothing but a few dry heaves as her mommy readied for a diaper change. Julia smiled down at her little one and opened a fresh diaper, placing it off to the side before popping open Chloe's sleeper. She was expecting another mundane diaper change. Sure, a poopy diaper change, but she was used to that by now. That was until she ripped open Chloe's diaper and found the reason for her distress. Poop. And not where it was supposed to be. Somehow, Chloe had managed to spread the mess all over her diaper. No surface left unscathed. It was a miracle that it hadn't been a blowout. "Chloe... How'd this happen, baby?" Julia asked, wrinkling her nose. She didn't even know where to start. Chloe, now uncomfortable with her skin exposed to the cool, morning air squirmed and whimpered on the changing pad. "I know, I know, mommy's not too happy about this either, but we'll get through this together," Julia soothed, reaching for the wet wipes. The sting from the wet wipes brought more tears to Chloe's eyes. She didn't need to see her bottom to know it was red. She could feel it. It burned. Julia could tell that Chloe had been sitting in her messy diaper for quite a while. It didn't take an expert to tell that Chloe had a rough case of diaper rash. She would need to remember to add extra cream during Chloe's bedtime changes. That and make sure to pay her little bottom a bit more attention during baths. Chloe would be sore for a little while, that's for sure. Chloe sighed in relief as the onslaught of wipes finally stopped. It felt good to have a clean bottom, but getting it cleaned was a different story. The burning finally stopped as her mommy smeared a thick layer of cream onto her hiney. It was magical. All her soreness seemed to vanish as that beautiful, white cream soothed her red bottom. The tenseness in her body fading with every circle her mommy's hand made. She didn't even feel the powder or diaper as it was taped up around her waist. She had had a rough morning and she was finally starting to feel better. Good enough to eat something. She was starved. She hadn't realized how hungry she was before, but now that she had a clean diaper, her tummy seemed to come to life. "hungwy." "Ya, are you hungry sweetheart?" Julia asked, finishing buttoning Chloe's sleeper back up. She didn't want to dress Chloe for the day yet as she was hoping she would go down for an early and possibly long nap after getting up so early. Chloe nodded. "well then, let's go get you something to eat," Julia said, lifting Chloe into her arms. A few minutes later. Chloe opened her mouth for another bite of oatmeal. Not once taking her eyes off Mickey Mouse. Out of all the cartoons she was allowed to watch, it was by far her favorite. Although, she liked Goofy better than Mickey. Goofy was funny. That's why she liked him. Another spoonful was held up to her mouth and Chloe obliged, taking yet another bite of oatmeal. Something was different today though. The oatmeal was sweeter than usual. A little thicker too. It was good though. Although, she was starting to get thirsty. Usually, she had a sippy cup of juice or milk. Something to wash down the sticky food. Another spoonful, this time Chloe turned her head away and whimpered. She needed a word. Something to let her mommy know she was thirsty. "Baba?" "Yep, mommy will get you your bottle after you finish eating." The spoon was pushed into Chloe's mouth, leaving her little choice but to chew and swallow. What had her mommy meant by "her bottle" and why had she said "baba"? It didn't make any sense. Another bite. As Chloe chewed, a flashback from the night flickered through her brain. She was laying in her mommy's arms. She was rocked to sleep. She already knew that. Only now there was something in her mouth. Something her mommy was holding. She was suckling it. A bottle. It had been a bottle. She nursed from a bottle like a baby. "What's wrong sweetheart?" Chloe snapped back to reality. Her mommy was staring at her, concerned. "You ok, baby?" Chloe nodded, a bit distant, as she took the spoonful of oatmeal. She couldn't believe she had actually nursed from a baby bottle. And yet the memory was front and center in her brain. Stuck on a loop that she was forced to endure over and over again. Chloe was once again snapped back to reality as her mommy cleaned off her face with a warmed washcloth before heading back to the kitchen. She hadn't even realized oatmeal was all over her face. Sitting there, stuck in her highchair, Chloe watched as her mommy pulled something out of the fridge. She caught a glimpse of it. A white substance in a container. Milk? Milk for a bottle? Chloe didn't have to wonder long as her mommy soon came and freed her from her highchair. "Ready for your baba, sweetheart?" Chloe wasn't sure. She had mixed feelings about the infantile object in her mommy's other hand. From what she could remember, she had enjoyed nursing from the bottle, but at the same time, she wasn't ready to be so... helpless. So baby like. She knew she was a baby, but she had a yearning for something else. For being older. More in control. Like a teenager. She had been a teenager once, hadn't she? Chloe didn't have time to answer her own question as she was laid across her mommy's lap. Cradled just like a baby. The bottle was held up to her lips. Teased against them. She could feel the warmth radiating from the bottle. She craved the sweet, soothing milk. All she had to do was open her mouth and let her mommy take care of her. Accept her babyhood. Accept that she was a helpless baby. She wanted to accept it. Wanted to be a baby. But she couldn't. She was scared. Scared of losing control. Scared of being helpless. So she did the only thing she could do. She fussed, kicked, screamed. She flailed her legs, her arms, her head. She did everything in her power to keep that bottle away from her mouth. And it worked. The bottle was set aside. Her mommy pulled her in close. Comforted her. Rocked her. Shushed her. And then everything was calm. "What was that about, sweetheart?" Julia asked, wiping away a few stray tears from Chloe's eyes. Her little one responded by nuzzling in closer. She seemed tired. Tired baby's do have meltdowns. "I think a little miss needs her nap." Chloe didn't respond. She just laid there. Enjoying the warmth and comfort of her mommy. Her steady heart rate bringing sleep to her eyes. She was tired. Exhausted. She was drifting off to dreamland. And then she was being moved. Laid somewhere. A pillow under her head and a blanket covering her. Her crib? No. She was somewhere else. Opening her eyes, Chloe looked around at the mesh walls surrounding her. A playpen? This was new. Scattered about the floor were a couple of her toys and set just in front of her face was the baby bottle. But where was her mommy? Looking around, Chloe realized she was still in the living room. How had she not noticed this here before? That didn't matter. She still didn't know where her mommy was. Crawling over to the side of the playpen, Chloe tried again to stand. But just like before, she couldn't keep her legs under her and after a few too many times of falling on her padded butt she gave up. Huffing, Chloe crawled back over to her blanket and pillow and cuddled up, staring at the bottle of milk. She would still be cradled in her mommy's arms if she has just nursed from the bottle. She didn't know why she was so scared. She knew she wanted to be a baby. Wanted her mommy to take care of Her. But there was still a part of her that wanted to fight. Wanted to drive, stay out late, and be a teenager. But that part of her was dying fast. Every day spent living the life of a baby was another day her old self died off. She was being reborn. Given a second chance. A chance to be better than before. And all she had to do was nurse from at bottle. Chloe took hold of the bottle. Slowly but surely she took the nipple into her mouth, taking a tentative suckle before pulling the bottle back out. The milk was everything she remembered from the night before. Warm, thick, sweet. It soothed her throat. It was good. Latching back onto the bottle, Chloe got into a rhythm of sucking and swallowing as her eyes closed and her body relaxed. She was in seven heaven. And soon she was fast asleep. She didn't even feel her diaper grow warm as she peed herself. Just like any other baby. Julia had watched Chloe nurse herself to sleep and couldn't be happier. Heading back to her room, she made herself comfortable in the reclining chair. Chloe would nap for a good while, hopefully, and she needed to get a couple of things done. First and foremost was prepping another couple of bottles. Off the side table, Julia grabbed her breast pump and went to work setting it up. She hated using the machine and couldn't wait for the day it was no longer necessary. Soon. It would be soon. In the meantime, she needed to enjoy the little things in life. Things like shopping for new furniture. After all, once they got back home Chloe would need some new things. Chapter 12: One Sandy Baby Chloe giggled, pouring yet another shovelful of sand on her legs. She had been digging and rolling around in the stuff all morning. No different than any other one-year-old. There was no method to her play. She was just having fun getting sandy. "What's so funny baby?" Julia asked, watching her little one with a smile. She too couldn't help but giggle as her daughter responded with more giggles while covering herself in even more sand. It would take a miracle to get her baby cleaned up later, that was a sure thing. But in the meantime, she saw no harm in letting Chloe burn off some energy before her afternoon nap. Chloe, satisfied with the pile of sand she just made, set her eyes on her other toys. It was the blue bucket that caught her attention and she started crawling towards it. But before she could start playing again, she was picked up by her mommy and sat underneath the small tent they had brought to the beach. Chloe whined, pouting as she pointed at the bucket with puppy dog eyes. Her pleas were met with deaf ears, however, as her mommy started to rummage through the diaper bag. "You can go back and play after you take a break, sweetheart," Julia said, pulling out a baby bottle. "But first mommy wants you to sit in the shade for a little while and drink some water." Dejected, Chloe took hold of the bottle and laid back on the beach towel as she got to work nursing the silicone nipple. Her throat was dry, parched. The cool water soothed her throat. She hadn't thought about being thirsty while playing. Mommy was right, she needed a break from the sun. Julia smiled, watching her daughter lay there as she nursed her bottle. It seemed like just the other day she was putting a diaper on her for the first time and now she was debating on when to start breastfeeding. Looking down, Julia felt her breast. They were starting to feel heavier, full, but it would be another couple of days before they were ready. Besides, she needed to wait until Chloe got a little younger. Breastfeeding a one-year-old might be a challenge, but an 8-month-old needs her mommy's milk. With her bottle finished, Chloe handed it back to her mommy before crawling over to the blue bucket. Finally, she could play with her toys. Sitting down on her bum, she started to fill the bucket up with sand. At least she tried to. Over the past week, her motor skills and coordination had been deteriorating. Pouring sand into a bucket was near impossible when you needed two hands to hold a bottle. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to do it right. Julia could see her little one starting to get frustrated. She wasn't surprised. It was getting close to Chloe's nap time and she always got fussy when she was tired. That's what happens when baby's get sleepy. Reaching over to the diaper bag, Julia grabbed Chloe's pacifier this time before heading to help her baby girl. Chloe failed yet again and in anger threw the shovel on the ground, crossing her arms as she struggled not to cry. There were a lot of emotions going through her body and she didn't know how to handle them. "Do you want some help, baby?" Looking up, Chloe nodded as she wiped a few tears from her eyes. "It's ok sweetie. There's no reason to cry. Mommy will help you." Julia cooed. "Do you want your paci?" Chloe nodded again and accepted the pacifier as her mommy pulled her into a hug. Cooing at her and rubbing her back for comfort. It was all Chloe needed to calm herself down and after a few minutes, she was ready to try again. This time with mommy's help. "Do you want to help mommy build a sandcastle?" Julia asked, fixing her baby's crooked sunhat. Chloe that she had heard the word "sandcastle" before, but she couldn't quite remember what it meant. It did sound fun though and so she gave a muffled "uh-huh" around her pacifier as she scooped up some more sand with her shovel. This time when she went to dump the sand, her mommy took hold of her hand and helped her to pour. "Good job, sweetie," Julia cooed, clapping her hands with encouragement. A smile was showing around Chloe's pacifier and Julia matched it with one of her own as the two went to work filling the bucket. As Julia continued to help her baby fill the bucket, she stroked a stray strand of hair behind Chloe's ear. She couldn't help but ask herself if she needed to give Chloe a haircut. After all, in a couple of weeks, she would be the equivalent of an infant and infants didn't have much if any hair. It would grow back as Chloe "Grew up" again. Once the bucket was full, Chloe helped her mommy pat down the sand and then looked up at her for instruction. "Now we flip it over to make a castle," Julia said as she turned the bucket over. The bucket wouldn't slide off right away and so Julia gently worked the bucket off. The end result, a less than perfect sandcastle, but who cared. It was a fun bonding moment and that's what mattered. Chloe was thrilled with the castle and bounced with excitement as she took in their creation. To her, it was the best sandcastle that had ever stood. "Now we get to decorate it," Julia said, looking around for some sticks and stones. She even went as far as to dig a small mote. While Chloe was helping her mommy decorate their castle, she noticed a small stream of water trickling beneath her. She turned around to look for the source only to realize she was the source. Instinctively, she panicked and looked up at her mommy. "Uh-oh." Looking over to see what was "uh-oh", Julia realized that Chloe went pee. That wasn't the problem though. The problem was that Chloe was breaking down into tears as she pulled at her diaper. "Shh, shh, its ok baby girl. Mommy dressed you in a special diaper so we could go in the water." Julia soothed, moving to comfort her baby. How was she supposed to explain that swim diapers don't hold pee-pee to a baby that's used to her diaper holding in all her pee-pees and poopsies? Chloe was struggling to not cry her eyes out. She felt like she did something bad because her diaper leaked, but at the same time, her mommy was telling her that it was ok. That it was supposed to happen. Diapers aren't supposed to leak. Chloe knew that. Even so, she knew that mommy knew best. Julia knew it was about time to head up to the house. It was about time to get her baby laid down for a nap. They had time for one more thing, and besides, she needed to get her baby washed off, at least a little bit, before heading back inside. She was absolutely caked in sand. "Why don't we go wash your bum off in the water and then go get some sleepies?" Chloe thought about it for a second before nodding her head. The water sounded like fun and the promise of a nap soon sealed the deal. She was getting sleepy and she was about done with the sun and sand for the day. Julia spent the next few minutes packing up their site. Everything they brought fit into a little beach wagon that made beach outings a lot easier, especially when you had a baby in your arms. Once everything was packed, Julia picked up her little sleepy head and carried her off to the water. Wading in, she only went about waist deep before kneeling down in the cool water. There weren't that many waves, and the few waves that did crash against the shore were small. A quiet day. Sitting there in the water, Chloe let herself relax in her mother's arms. She could've taken a nap right then and there. The cool water felt refreshing after spending so much time in the sun. That combined with her mother rubbing her back and the gentle, soothing sound of the waves made her feel drowsy. She was just about to nod off when her mother stood up, jerking her mind back awake. The beach was fun, but she was ready for her cozy crib, a clean diaper, and a pacifier. All the key elements for a good nap. Things that she needed. A few minutes later, Chloe was laying down on the bathroom rug as her mommy stripped her down to her birthday suit. It felt good to get out of her swimsuit and diaper. And it felt even better to be sat in the tub. The warm water instantly melted away the icky feeling of the saltwater on her skin. What was even better was being washed clean by her mommy. A feeling that she always loved and longed for. Who wouldn't want a free spa day? Julia let out a little chuckle, watching Chloe's head start to nod forward before the baby would catch herself. She was falling asleep. Naptime would be easy today. It didn't take long for Julia to finish scrubbing her little one and after a couple of rinses to make sure Chloe was all cleaned off, Julia lifted her out of the tub and into a large fluffy towel. Chloe shivered a little as she was being dried off. It wasn't cold inside, but having just been pulled from the warmth and security of her bath it could've been Antarctica for all she cared. She just wanted a clean, warm diaper and comfy sleeper so she could go curl up under her blankie. Laying Chloe down, Julia finished drying her baby girl off and pulled the towel out from under her. From underneath the table, she grabbed a diaper and onesie. From another drawer, she pulled wipes, lotion, cream, and powder. All while keeping a hand on her baby's stomach. Wouldn't want her to roll off and get hurt. As Chloe laid on her changing pad awaiting her fresh diaper, a pacifier was offered to her. She, of course, took no issue in allowing the paci to be slipped into her mouth and suckled on it contently while staring off into the distance. Paying no mind to anything her mommy was doing. The first thing Julia did was smooth some baby lotion into Chloe's skin. From the tip of her toes to the top of her head. The baby would need it after having been at the beach all day. Besides, who could resist a baby with all to smooth skin? With this done, Julia moved onto the diaper cream which she focused around Chloe's bum and diaper bits. The sticky, white paste would add an extra barrier between Chloe's delicate skin and anything she left in her diaper. Next, it was time for the diaper. Julia unfolded the soft, infantile garment and expertly slid it under her baby's bum. A healthy sprinkle of powder on both her front and back to help keep any sweat away and then the diaper was pulled up and taped snug against Chloe's cute, little tummy. Julia then made sure to check the diaper's fit before moving on to the onesie. Nobody wants Elmo to leak. "Can you sit up for me sweetie?" Chloe turned back from the dreamland she had been in. She hadn't even realized her mommy had diapered her already. Sitting up, Chloe let her mommy slip the yellow onesie over her head and arms. It was worked down her little body and then she was guided back down onto her back. Chloe looked down at the fluffy, white diaper between her legs. She felt a sense of happiness and security looking down at Elmo. And then he vanished as her mommy buttoned the onesie up around her diaper. "Alright, I know a little girl who's ready for her nap." Julia cooed, bopping Chloe's nose. There was a slight, tired giggle in response. Picking up her baby girl, Julia rubbed her back and patted her adorably diapered bum as she carried her over to the crib. Laying her little one down, Julia pulled Chloe's blanket up and around her small body. A gentle sigh came from the little girl and Julia smiled. She made sure Chloe was all settled in with her bunny before turning to leave. On the way out, she switched on the baby monitor and music player before turning out the lights, leaving her precious baby to sleep. Chloe hadn't realized her mommy had left until she heard the soft click of the door. Opening her eyes for just a second to take in her surroundings. The room was mostly dark with the curtains blocking out most of the light. It didn't bother Chloe though. Taking a deep breath around her pacifier, she settled in to nurse on the soft nipple. It's soothing powers bringing her relaxation as she closed her eyes and let her body relax as she rolled over. Her diaper crinkling oh so cutely as she did so. The only sound in the room came from her music player as it played a sweet and soft melody. A melody laced with subconscious suggestions. Suggestions working to ease Chloe's mind younger and younger. Chapter 13: A Little Bonding Julia smiled as she rolled over in bed. The soft breathing of a baby girl filtered through the baby monitor making it known that Chloe was still sound asleep. Usually, it was at this time she would climb out of bed and find her way to the kitchen to get Chloe's morning bottle ready, but today was different. Today was the day. Giving herself a few minutes to wake up and gain her senses, Julia slipped out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe before heading to the nursery. Opening the door quietly, Julia peered in. Soft nursery music filled the air along with the stench of a very messy diaper. A common occurrence with her little one. Glancing over at the crib, she could just make out the silhouette of her baby girl curled up under her blanket, still sleeping soundly. Stepping over to the crib, Julia reached down and stroked her baby's hair, taking a minute to admire how absolutely adorable Chloe looked all curled up. Bunny cradled against her chest. Pacifier bobbing slightly with each precious breath she took. The telltale bulge in the seat of her sleeper. Chloe was the epitome of a baby. And a cute one at that. "Hey sweetie, its time to wake up," Julia cooed, moving her hand to shake Chloe's bottom, confirming that she did indeed have a stinky bum. Chloe slowly awoke as her mommy rubbed her back, cooing softly at her. She had yet to fully wake up when she was lifted out of her cozy crib and carried over to the changing table, bunny still in hand. Even in her sleep-addled state, she would never forget her bunny. "Boy, mommy's got a sleepy baby today," Julia whispered, patting Chloe's dirty bum before laying her down to change her diaper. Chloe rubbed her eyes, whining, as her sleeper was popped open and her legs pulled out. She hadn't even known she was messy, but still, her messy diaper seemed a better alternative than being pulled from the warmth of her crib. It's not like the messy diaper was bothering her so why did it bother her mommy so much. Julia carried on, ignoring the grumbles of her little one as she moved on to unbuttoning Chloe's onesie, exposing the soiled diaper underneath. Reaching under the table for some diapering supplies, Julia sighed before starting the mundane task of changing a poopy diaper. Chloe was already staring off to space, nursing her pacifier, when she heard the familiar sounds of velcro ripping followed by the instant cold around her diaper area. It made her wince. It always made her wince. She hated the feeling of cold air invading what areas had been warm just seconds before. Even so, in a few seconds, the sting of the cold went away and Chloe played with her bunny as her legs were held above her head and her bottom wiped clean. Setting Chloe's legs down, Julia made expert work of balling up the used diaper before dropping it in the diaper pail. The hard part was over, now all she needed to do was slip a fresh, clean diaper around her baby's bum and get some milk in her little tummy. What had started as an icky morning was starting to get better. Chloe was finally awake and her mood brightened as a new, soft diaper was slid under her raised bottom. Even if the poopy wasn't bothering her before, she did admit that a clean diaper felt better against her tender bottom. A little cream and powder followed, making any soreness she felt disappear as the diaper was taped against her belly. Julia saw no reason to get her baby dressed for the day and set to work rebutting her onesie and sleeper. She had no plans of going anywhere and felt that some downtime would do both of them some good. Besides, a baby all cozied up in her onesie and sleeper was much more inclined to cuddling and Julia had plenty of cuddling planned for their day. Chloe was happy to be back in her sleeper. She knew it meant the day would be spent sleeping and playing in her playpen. A thought that she took no issue with. Even though she had slept well, she was still tired and definitely a little grouchy. "Baby's all clean," Julia cooed in baby talk as she lifted Chloe onto her hip, planting an array of kisses all over her cute, baby cheeks. This did get a few giggles from her tired baby, but she could tell much of today would be spent napping. "You ready for some breakfast sweetheart?" Julia continued, bouncing Chloe as she made her way over to the rocking chair. Chloe didn't respond. Instead, she laid her head on her mommy's shoulder and let herself be cared for. She didn't want to make any decisions. didn't want to answer any questions. She just wanted her mommy to do everything for her. That was easier. Sitting down, Julia made sure she was comfortable before adjusting her baby so that she was cradled across her lap. It was the same position she used to bottle feed her little one, just a little lower, that was all. Chloe had already started searching for her morning bottle but couldn't seem to find it. Hungry. Confused. Tired. Not a good combination for a grumpy baby and it soon showed as she started fussing and kicking her legs in frustration. She was hungry and wanted to be fed. "Shh, shh, mommy knows. It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright." Julia soothed, calming her baby down. "Mommy just wants to try something new today, that's all." With the promise of food, Chloe settled down and watched as her mommy pushed aside her bathrobe, exposing her bra and chest. It didn't stop there, however, as her mommy continued by undoing the center of her bra, leaving both her breasts on full display. A display that was only a foot away from Chloe's own face. Julia chuckled a good bit seeing how confused her baby was. "Mommy's decided that we don't need to use your baba anymore." Chloe still wasn't following. If she didn't have her baba then how was she going to drink anything? She couldn't use a cup even if she wanted to. She could barely use a bottle without her mommy holding it for her. "This is going to be your baba from now on," Julia explained, taking hold of her firm nipple. "Mommy's just been taking milk from this baba and putting it in your other babas." Chloe was starting to get the idea and she didn't like it one bit. She was fidgeting, squirming in her mommy's lap. Turning her head away, she hoped that when she looked back her baba would be waiting for her. And it was. Just not the baba she was hoping for. Her mommy was pulling her closer and she started to panic. "Hey, hey, its ok baby. Just relax, mommy's got you. Just relax." Julia cooed, pulling her baby in tighter, closer. She had Chloe's head cradled in the crook of her arm, right up against the side of her breast. Her other hand found her baby's padded bum, patting it oh so gently. Soothing her little one as she rocked back and forth. Chloe didn't know what to do. She could feel the warmth radiating from her mother's chest. Her cheek was practically touching the soft skin. The skin that awaited her lips. Her brain was racing with all sorts of emotions as she struggled once more in her mother's grasp. Only her resistance didn't amount to much as the gentle rocking and soothing touch of her mommy's hand subdued what little fight she had left. "It's alright, little one. I promise you'll like it. It's no different than your baba, just fresher." Chloe processed the information. She knew she liked her babas now so why wouldn't she like it fresher. Even she knew that the fresher something was the better it tasted. Even so, she couldn't get over the mental barrier of suckling at her mommy's chest. Then she thought of her first bottle. She had refused to drink from it. Refused to let her mommy feed her. Why? Because she was afraid of the bottle. Afraid of the helplessness and lack of control it signified. Yet she also craved the helplessness. Craved her mommy's love, attention, and care. This was no different. Letting her mommy take care of her me... Her mommy's pink nipple was teasing her lips. Chloe pulled back from the firm nub. Or tried to pull back. Her head was cradled so firm, yet gently in her mother's arms, leaving her no place to pull back to. She couldn't escape that little pink nub. It seemed to follow her no matter which way she turned her head. "It's alright, sweetheart. Just relax. Let mommy take care of you." "Let mommy take care of you." That line stuck in Chloe's head on repeat. "Let mommy take care of you." Chloe knew she needed to relax. Let herself be the baby and her mommy the mommy. She wanted to be cared for. Wanted to slip into the helplessness and trust that babyhood was. So she did. Ever so slightly, Chloe parted her lips and let her mommy take over. "That's it. What a good baby." Julia soothed, whispering to her little one as she guided that little mouth to her erect nipple, pushing the two together. Chloe wasn't sure what to think. The nipple filled her mouth, but not enough. Her mommy was coaxing her to open wider, but she still wasn't sure if she wanted to. Out of instinct, she took a slight suckle before pulling back. Breaking the what little latch she had on the nipple. She was shocked. Shocked by the stream of milk that had filled her mouth so quickly. It had happened so fast that she barely had time to think before she swallowed the milk. It was thick and sweet just like her bottle. It even tasted just like it, but better. The warmth was different too. The perfect temperature. Not too hot, not too cold. Julia could tell her little one was debating inside her own head. She knew she had swallowed a little milk. She had both felt it and seen it. Felt the milk let down and seen her nipple leaking. Trying again, she brought her baby's gaze back to her breast and coaxed her to take the nipple. This time, that little mouth was wide open and she took the opportunity to push her breast deep into her baby's mouth. A good latch. The breast filled Chloe's mouth. She didn't have much room left by time her mommy was satisfied she had enough of the nipple resting in her mouth. She could feel the nipple with her tongue. It was situated so that her tongue rested just under the nipple itself, allowing her to press the little nub against the roof of her mouth. An almost perfect nursing position. And so she did just that. She suckled, nursing on the little pink nub as it filled her mouth with sweet milk. Milk that she eagerly swallowed down. Her body relaxing as she did so. Julia smiled down at her nursing baby as she felt her melt into her arms. She herself relaxed in the chair. Humming as she rocked back and forth, soothing her baby with diaper pats and back rubs as she fed. Julia could get used to this feeling. The closeness she felt with her baby girl. Her baby girl that had been so irresponsible, so close to heading off into the real world. She knew Chloe wasn't ready for that and so she had taken the steps needed to regress her. She had gotten her into pull-ups. A few accidents later she finally taped the first diaper onto her baby. And then after that, it had been easy sailing. Regressing her baby younger and younger. First her ability to walk, then talk, and now she was sitting in a rocking chair breastfeeding her. It would only be a matter of time before she was so little that rolling over proved an impossible challenge. Julia couldn't wait for that day. It would mark the start of a second chance for both of them. As Chloe laid in her mother's lap, nursing, her eyes wandered past the breast in her face to meet her mother's gaze. It was a moment of calming reassurance. A moment that let her know she was loved and cared for. That she had no worries. No responsibilities. No struggles. All she had to was be a baby. Her mommy's adorable, little baby girl. And so Chloe settled in to nurse, listening to her mother's gentle heartbeat as she was rocked and soothed. Accepting the beginning of her regression to infancy.