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Does anyone seem to notice how it's increasingly normal for people to be potty trained later, Even noticing how parents are delaying or even not potty training their kids at all? I have seen posts and articles online where parents are delaying potty training or even keeping the kids in diapers a lot longer. Some are saying it's the parent's fault and some parents are blaming COVID for not potty training or keeping the kids in diapers. Even many are saying parents have to work and have no time to potty train them. I have seen diaper manufacturers lately starting to make diapers for kids who are still in diapers and still not potty trained. It also seems like more and more women are starting to wear diapers and pull-ups for Periods and PostPartum pregnancy. It seems like these days with the data and articles, Diaper manufacturers have the data to justify creating larger-size kid diapers which to me thinks that kids potty training later or staying in diapers a lot longer is here to stay. I think the trend of potty training later or keeping the kids in diapers longer is here to stay and shows no signs of reversing. Do any of you think the trend is here to stay? Do any of you see the signs that diapers are becoming normalized in society? Source: https://www.yourtango.com/entertainment/teacher-says-more-kindergarteners-ever-still-diapers https://www.reddit.com/r/Teachers/comments/1746pov/teachers_are_tired_of_changing_diapers_for/?rdt=41208 https://www.reddit.com/r/Teachers/comments/16rscgn/diaperchanging_stations_at_elementary_school_no/ https://www.reddit.com/r/Teachers/comments/14gjze9/sil_says_teachers_are_lazy_and_selfish_for/

I finally finished a story! This is written as a true-life story, and is based on true events. It's at least as true to the real story as Argo and Braveheart. Characters have been combined and timelines have been changed for plot purposes. Some events portrayed are not what really happened, but as far as you know- this is what really happened. It's a 1st person narrative about the struggles he had in learning to use the potty, and what eventually overcame those struggles. I'm going to apologize in advance for any grammatical errors. I wasn't able to proof it after my draft- and just allowed Grammarly to do it's thing. I'm sure there are missing articles and typos. POTTY TRAINING STRUGGLES As you can tell, this is a story about my struggles with potty training and graduating from diapers. I am the oldest of two boy’s, with my younger brother being nine years older than. My brother was completely potty trained by his fourth birthday, while I was well past four before I really started. I was old enough to know most kids my age were already pooping and peeing in the toilet, and a lot could make it through the night. I don’t have many vivid memories at that age, but I do remember still regularly wetting my pants. This was before Pull Ups, but I remember that I still wore Pampers during the night, and my mom would put me in a diaper during the day if we weren’t sure about getting to the toilet. I remembered being diapered for a full week that summer, which was a few months before I turned five. My birthday was literally right on the cusp for starting kindergarten, and that was one of the reasons that my mom choose to hold me out for one more year. I literally was just starting the use the potty on a regular basis, and my mom was worried that I just wasn’t ready for school. My birthday is September, and according to my mom, I was fully potty trained by that Christmas. I used the toilet independently and woke up dry in the morning. I remember my saying “Now that we’ve finally got the potty training down, we can move on to other things.” And that’s how I started kindergarten. Ok, I started on my sixth birthday, but I was on par with most of the kids, if not slightly better than most. I was excited about finally making it to ‘big kid’ school. Because I was older, and my mom had supported me with numbers and letters, I was already able to count and read basic letters. I was tired, but still excited after the first day of school, and wet my pants while playing in the afternoon. My mom didn’t overreact to the accident, even though it had been a long time since I had one. Maybe I was just excited. She reminded me to use the potty and helped me clean up. The next morning, I wet the bed, which hadn’t happened for a few months. Once again, my mom said, “Accidents happen.” It wasn’t until I wet my pants at school the second day that my mom got concerned. She reminded that I was too old to be peeing my pants, and I was older than all of the other kids in class and only one who peed his pants. I went out to play and felt the urge to poop. But I didn’t want to stop what I was doing, so I just pooped. I don’t think that counted as an accident, because I knew what I was doing. Once again, mom talked with me about being a ‘big boy’ and big kids make sure to use the potty. After that mom started to bring me to the toilet and we started to potty training again. She tried all the typical steps. Positive praise, toy boxes, ignoring, making me clean up, and anything else. None of it worked, and we were all getting frustrated. I was pooping and peeing my pants more often than getting to the toilet, and I only used the potty when somebody made me. We went on trip in October, which was a month into my kindergarten year. Rather than dealing with any accidents while we were on the plane and traveling through the airport, mom reluctantly decided to put me in a diaper. She reminded me that I could ask to use the potty, but I ended up using my diaper. I cried when my mom asked if I had peed in my diaper, but my mom said, “that’s alright, that’s why I put you in the diaper.” It turned out that putting me back in diapers was the right move. It just relieved the stress that was going on, and I was much happier and calmer. Mom decided to keep using the diapers when we came back and go back to square one. For the next few months, we took a break from the whole potty-training thing. I went back to using diapers all the time, and nobody pushed me to use the potty. In fact, for the first few weeks-mom didn’t even ask if I had peed or pooped. She would just check my diapers and change me as needed. Fortunately, we lived in a small town, and after the initial shock, I was just the big kid in diapers. It might be shocking the first time you see a six-year-old in diapers, but it becomes routine if you see that same kid every single day. While my didn’t play up my diapers in public, she didn’t go out of her way to keep it a secret. She would carry the diaper to take me to get changed, so everybody knew that I was being changed. According to my mom, I was just a reluctant potty trainer, and she slowly brought me back to using the potty. At first, she would take me into the toilet when she saw that I needed to go. She had me start pooping in the toilet, and then asked if I needed to pee. Eventually I started to tell her when I needed to use the toilet, and she eventually got me back in underwear. And that method worked. It was a few months until I started using the potty, but I was pretty much back to normal by the end of spring. But that would begin these strange cycles. I would go months without an issue. I didn’t even wet the bed, but then I would take a drastic turn and almost stop using the potty at all. These cycles continued through first grade, and even into second grade. Most of the cycles were short enough that I didn’t need to return to diapers, but I did have to go back to diapers a few times. And that didn’t mean just wearing a diaper for day. Diapers always meant a full stop for at least a week, and then at least another week before I was ready for under wear. Mom didn’t treat it as a potty-training setback, it was a complete restart. Mom realized that cycles were linked to regression, and mom started to treat me more like toddler when I was in diapers. Diapers meant sleeping in a crib, taking naps, sippy cups, and worst of all- strollers! These cycles started to slow down as I got older, but I was still diapered on my eighth birthday. That one took a month, and by that October- I was just a typical eight-year-old boy. I finished second grade in June, and I hadn’t gone through any more cycles. I think I may have wet my pants after Christmas, but that was it. My mom didn’t say it, but I’m sure she thought “Finally, we’re done.” I moved back to California after second grade, and started at a new school, which along with a baby brother created a dangerous mix of excitement and anxiety. At first there was an accident in my bed. My mom knew this was a sign that I was close to regressing, so she began to take precautions. She started to watch me and remind me to use the toilet. I was resistant and ended up wetting my pants. She bought some Pull Ups and reminded me that I needed to use the potty. I knew this was the last step before heading back to diapers, but I don’t know if that was what I wanted. Either way, the next day I had three more accidents in my Pull Ups, and mom decided it was time for another break. I was now nine years old and using diapers full-time. Somebody always had to be with me all the time, and she put a crib in my room. I was basically a big three-year-old child. In truth, I didn’t mind most of the treatment. I liked the diapers. They were under my clothes, so it was hard to tell that I was wearing them. I was going to a home-school, other kids didn’t find out anyway. I didn’t mind the crib either. I could lean up against the bars, and it was comforting. The sippy cub was just for home and looked more like a water bottle. But I hated the stroller. That one was right in public, and everyone could see I was a big kid in a stroller. I didn’t exactly look my age, especially because I was dressed in clothing that was more appropriate for little kids, but I looked too old to be in a stroller. Unfortunately, I was once gotten lost in a crowded airport, and this was the one thing that my mom was most insistent on. She even liked to use it when I wasn’t in diapers, but then it was easier to negotiate my way out. This cycle was longer that what happened in kindergarten. For whatever reason, I just never seemed able to get out. My parents patiently waited and hoped I would someday get potty trained. I was diapered almost all of third grade and then only made it into Pull Ups. I barely made it back into Pull Ups at the end of summer but had another regression right before my birthday. Fortunately, that one only lasted a few weeks, and I had finally earned my underwear by that Christmas. But I was still wearing diapers at night through the spring and didn’t get to move to a real bed until Easter. Much like the previous cycles, I was fine once it ended. I never even wet the bed again that year. It was all a distant memory by my twelfth birthday. But then the vicious mixture of anxiety and excitement returned, with similar results. This was a slower process. I didn’t go directly from underwear to diapers in a week. It started soon after I learned we were moving back to Asia, and I wanted that because I had more friends there and felt more comfortable. However, it was new and exciting, which caused some anxiety. It didn’t start until after my birthday. I was twelve, but that was only the second time I wasn’t diapered on my birthday. But then I learned that we were moving back to Asia, which I wanted. I was excited about the move and wet my bed for the first time in over a year. I think my mom hoped that it was just a one-time thing, because she said, “Don’t worry about. Maybe you were excited.” I remember that my brother was making the transition from diapers to underpants, and I think she hoped this wouldn’t become a problem. I wet the bed a week later, and we tried to limit water. It was just two accidents, and I wasn’t wetting my pants. I think I had one more few days later, and mom suggested I might have to wear Pull Ups for our long flight. She was hoping that not making a big deal out of it would cause me to stop wetting the bed. The bedwetting increased as we got closer to our move. I wet the bed every single night the week before we moved and had a couple of wet pants. At the same time, my brother Eric was going the other way. I heard my mom say, “That’s all we need. Chris will go back to diapers when we get Eric out of them. At least I won’t have two in diapers.” Mom let me know that I was old enough to take care of this by myself, but she would have no problem returning me to diapers if I didn’t. I tried, and had a few dry days, and even stayed dry a few nights. But then I had three accidents the day we moved from the house Mom said, “We can’t do this right now. You’re going back to diapers.” I asked, “Is this just for the trip?” Mom shook her head, and said, “This is not punishment. We need a break from potty training right now. We’re not even going to worry about it until we are settled in Indonesia.” I cried, “But I don’t need diapers.” My mom calmly replied, “You do now. I can’t deal with potty training while we are moving.” “What about Eric?” “Eric is potty trained. You’re not.” And that’s really how my mom felt. It didn’t matter that I had used the toilet before, I still wasn’t potty trained. And since this was a bad time to begin potty training, I still had to wear diapers. We spent that night at a suite hotel, and mom asked for a crib. The desk clerk looked at me and asked if she meant “roll away.” Mom said, “No, we just need the crib.” Eric pouted when he saw the crib, because he had just made the transition to a big bed. “Mommy, that’s for babies. I sleep in big beds.” My mom said, “That’s not for you.” I realized that it was for me. “WHAT? Why do I have to sleep in that?” Mom said, “No bed until you’re potty trained.” My mom had also bought a double-stroller, so this whole trip would be a giant step back. At least my little brother had to wear a diaper on the flight, and was next to me in the double-stroller. But it was so humiliating, and made worse because my cousin, who is only a year older than me, was pushing it. I hoped this would only be for the flight, and the next morning she would ask, “Are you done being baby?” But that’s not how my mom did things. We had to spend a week in Singapore while we finalized our visas, and mom kept me diapers the whole time. She never took to the bathroom, and just ignored me if I asked. Worst of all, my cousin, Annie was allowed to change my diaper, and my parents paid her to watch after us. It took more than a month before mom even started to the first steps. Apparently this was part of her plan, and after a month of using diapers I wasn’t even thinking about using the toilet. I just went in my diaper, even for poops. That’s finally where mom would take me into the bathroom, and sometimes encourage me to sit. The idea was to gradually introduce me to using the potty, but only move one when I showed that I was ready for the next step. It wasn’t a direct line. And if I didn’t seem ready, I just stayed in diapers. I stayed in diapers the rest of sixth grade, and the entire summer. I made it back to Pull Ups for a very short time, but kept having accidents- so it was back to diapers. I was still in diapers on my 13th birthday, and still in diapers all the past Christmas. Seventh grade was slightly better, because I did move back to underwear for a few months, but then I started having accidents again and it was back to diapers for the summer, and through my fourteenth birthday. Another birthday in diapers. And then I finally started to use the toilet again. Just like in the past, I just kind of hit a point where I was using the toilet, and it no longer was an issue. No more diapers! Even so, I don’t think my mom ever considered me completely potty trained. She had fooled too many times. She passed away when I was sixteen, and I knew even at sixteen- I would be right back in diapers if I started to have accidents. I know that several people question my mom’s parenting skills, and maybe assumed there was something wrong with both of us. And maybe we were. After all, I was fourteen-year-old boy with normal intelligence and no physical issues, but still wore diapers like a toddler. However, my brother was fully potty trained by three-and-a-half, and my mom also got my cousin potty trained before her third birthday. And other than the potty training, I was well-adjusted. I completed all the math courses that my high school had when I was sixteen. I wasn’t great in sports, but I played them and like them. I had a lot of friends, and some of them knew I still wore diapers. However, there weren’t many people who were going to put a sixteen-year-old kid in diapers after a few accident, so there wasn’t much of a threat of going back to diapers after my mom died. I went through the rest of high school and college without thinking much of diapers. Well, I thought about it, but I never did anything about it. I moved to my own own apartment at 25, and for the first time in my life- I bought a package of GoodNites. I remember trying those on and using them for the first time. I bought some Pampers, but they didn’t fit. I finally tried adult diapers. For the next few years, the diapers were my secret indulgence. I couldn’t understand why, but for some reason there was this secret desire to return to diapers. It wasn’t until I was past forty that I ever shared this with anybody, and that was with my girlfriend. At first, she was hesitant when I told her. It sounded like she wasn’t into the idea, and wished they would go away. I now realize that she was dealing with her own maternal issues. She never had any children, and we were past the age where we would have any children. I don’t think a baby husband was what she had in mind. It wasn’t until she met my cousin that Emily really understood. Emily seemed uncomfortable about the subject, so I never really brough up much about my childhood. I told her that I wet the bed and wore diapers when I was a little kid, but we never dug deep into the rest of it. We got serious enough to meet family, and she met Annie. Some how the subject of kid’s getting potty trained came up, and Emily asked, “Chris share he was a slow trainer.” Annie laughed and said, “you can say.” “Really, how late are we talking about?” “Well, Eric was out of diapers before Chris was.” Annie chimed. “What? You can’t be serious/ Eric is like five years younger.” Emily exclaimed. Annie laughed, “Actually nine.” In a defensive tone I said, “Eight and a half.” Annie replied, “Like that makes a difference.” Emily had a quizzical look, and asked, “So we are talking ten? You must mean just for wetting the bed.” Annie blurted, “I changed his diapers when he was twelve, and it wasn’t just at night.” Emily looked up and said, “It makes so much more sense now.” I was getting embarrassed and excused myself to get a drink after that. The conversation left me a frisky, and Emily and I shared a moment. After that she asked, “Why didn’t you ever share that with me?” I mumbled, and stammered, “I don’t know. It’s kind of embarrassing.” “Yeah, but you shared about the diapers.” I explain that the diapers felt like a taboo subject when I brought it up. I shared that it was alright if she didn’t want to participate, but I wouldn’t be able to give them up. Emily nodded, and said, “I think I understand now.” She paused, “Do you want me to put a diaper on?” I shook my head, and mumbled “No.” With a maternal tone she calmly asked, “Do you want me change your diapers?” I hesitantly replied, “If you want to.” She kissed me on the forehead and said, “I’ll think about it. Now go to sleep.” A few days later she came back and asked more about my childhood, and I shared the whole story, including the stroller and cribs. She asked some questions and then said we would talk more about it. I didn’t know what she meant, and I wasn’t sure what would happen. She didn’t kick me out, which was a good start. That afternoon I came home, and Emily was waiting for me. “We need to talk.” Those words are never good. I nervously asked, “Are you going to break up with me?” She laughed and said, “Oh no. Don’t worry about that.” She followed with, “I want to thank you with giving me time and space to process this. I’m going to share with you what I want.” I nodded, and she continued. “I’ve never been a mom, and I’ve been afraid that I’ll regret not getting the chance. I never thought about having a ‘baby husband’.” I interrupted and said, “I don’t want to be a baby.” Emily stopped me, and calmly said, “I know that, but let me explain. I don’t want a baby either, but you know we already have that kind of dynamic, and I want to upgrade that. I don’t to be your ‘play’ mommy. Do you have any questions?” “What do you mean, am I going to a fulltime?” “Well, first of all, you aren’t a baby. You’re a little boy. But if we do this, we’re not just be playing mommy/son when we want to have some fun. I will always be in charge. You’ll still have adult privileges, but it’s my choice when, how, and for how long.” I sighed. I was anxious and excited, and a stream of urine leak. Fortunately I had diaper on, so no accident. “And now let’s talk about the diapers. I never wanted to deal with diapers, and I definitely never saw myself diapering a grown man. But that’s what I’ve got to do if we do this?” “Does that mean you are willing to change my sometimes?” She shook her head and said, “No.” This would have been a deal breaker. I didn’t want the baby treatment if I had to change my own diapers. She continued, “it means I’m going to be changing your diapers all the time. You will wear diapers all the time. I don’t want you using the toilet, and I don’t even want you asking me change you’re diaper.” “Do I have to do everything in the diaper?” “Yes, everything.” I rarely soiled my diapers and knew that it was harder to let it go. “I’m not sure if can do that.” “You’ll learn.” I was intrigued. “So, it will be like I’m incontinent.” “No, incontinence is a physical issue that prevents you from getting to the toilet. This means that we will give up on your potty training. Potty training didn’t work for you. It cause anxiety and I can tell that you are much happier in diapers. So we just won’t worry about potty training anymore.” I couldn’t think what to say, so Emily continued. I had peed in my diaper about 5 more times since we started talking, and it was getting.really wet. Emily continued, “I want this to be your choice. Think about it. I’m going to leave and give you time. If you don’t want this, go ahead and change out of that soggy diaper. If you want this, take off everything except the diaper and ask me to check your diaper.” I waited a few minutes. I was afraid and excited. Did I really want this? I undressed and walked out to Emily. “Mommy, can you check my diaper?”

I thought it was rather unusual last week reading a long thread on enjoying baby diapers as part of AB/DL. For myself, I don't wear them long term. It's more to get the feeling of being a baby or Toddler. Here's one that may be new and I finally got the potty seat to try it. I like to role play that I'm potty training occasionally. Oh course miserably. So I go back into my "Pampers" or "Pull-Ups". I use that as a generic term for any adult sized diaper as well. So I might have Attends around my ankles for the moment. And since I don't care to dedicate in my "Pampers", (nothing against anyone who does) sometimes I use the experience to go #2. What I am wondering is does anyone else like this as well? Or am I alone here? It's just creative play time where I use my actual experiences and make them positive. Does anyone frown upon this kind of thing. I mean, Diapers are still a part and as you can see there's alittle sissy humiliation as well.