Strange days indeed - a 24 x 7 experiment

[Three Rivers]

Hopefully you'll get thru the hot weather before too long, happy to hear your spouse is being more understanding and or tolerant of the daily activities of your life. I enjoy reading your stories of everyday life, and thanks once again for sharing with the rest of us.

[Stroller]

16 hours ago, Three Rivers said:

Hopefully you'll get thru the hot weather before too long, happy to hear your spouse is being more understanding and or tolerant of the daily activities of your life. I enjoy reading your stories of everyday life, and thanks once again for sharing with the rest of us.

I'll second all that.  Thanks oznl! I only wish I was as eloquent. I'm off to a large ABDL event today, so maybe I can bring some stories back...

[oznl]

15 hours ago, Stroller said:

I'm off to a large ABDL event today, so maybe I can bring some stories back...

THAT would be interesting!  I can't see any path my beloved would take that would deliver that level of tolerance for me 😟

[Stroller]

9 hours ago, oznl said:

THAT would be interesting!  I can't see any path my beloved would take that would deliver that level of tolerance for me 😟

OK - I'll try to put something together on a new thread.

[oznl]

The yuletide rituals are flying thick and fast now.  At around the same time the Royal family in the UK are booking their train tickets up to their Sandringham estate but before my beloved and our kids start arguing about Christmas day logistics it is time again for my annual skin cancer check.

Nothing says “Christmas” in Australia quite like a malignant melanoma.  Whilst arguably no more lethal than a Mountbatten-Windsor hosted Christmas hunt, the difference here is that I actually hold an invitation to skin cancer.  In fact I’m a frequent flyer.  Go me…

In another yuletide tradition, I yet again squibbed it and went for my inspection sans nappy.

The general assumption of many “in the know” is that I’m actually incontinent by now but haven’t worked that out for myself.  Whilst I accept that systems are not exactly factory fresh in the downstairs waterworks department, brief nappy-free outings such as this confirm that continence is highly resilient and that a usable chunk of it remains.

It was easier than last year.  This time a year ago I’d just moved out of Brisbane to my new regional coastal location.  Getting appointments at a dermatologist is even tougher than getting into the house of Windsor’s Christmas shindig so I’d stuck with my existing Brisbane practitioner reservation and made the 2 hour trip down there unattired.  I made it.  Just.  Interestingly I didn’t make it back but this was less of a problem as I’d put a nappy on in the medical centre toilet upon leaving.

Back then I’d presciently booked my next check with a local practitioner.  Their waiting list was nearly a year anyway but this afforded me the opportunity of enjoying my 2025 skin check about 10 minutes’ drive from home.

There is ZERO possibility of an adult nappy escaping the attention of any dermatologist with functional eyesight and since dermatologists with functional eyesight are my preferred kind, I chose again not to wear one.  I know that dermatologists are generally professional and polite but a part of me doesn’t care.

Every year I have one of these things where I make a quiet pact with myself that it will be “ok” NEXT year if I wear a suitable-sober pull-up nappy assuming further declines in continence but when “NEXT year” rolls around it seems I find myself good for the gig wearing underpants.  I can accept the idea of dealing with practitioners nappy-clad due to actual continence issues but there’s something about rocking up in padding as a lifestyle choice that just crosses a line for me.  I can’t do it.

Every year it seems a little stranger and my pants seem even emptier when I venture out “unprotected” as it were.

It was only one hour spent nappy free.  December heat in combination with outdoor yard work and my general reluctance to run household air conditioning when home alone means that I’m usually mildly dehydrated anyway which makes the task of not peeing in my pants considerably easier.

I was VERY conscious of myself, to the point of finding myself surreptitiously checking that I was still dry from time to time.  Upon reflection, the optics of this for others may not have been good.  I thought a lot about NOT peeing.  I’d conjecture that most vanilla folk don’t think much about not peeing but after nearly 7 years in nappies, somehow things get flipped around.

In any case, my new dermatologist was young enough to be my daughter.

Different to my old one, she was affable and friendly but similar to my old one, she wielded a spray can of liquid nitrogen as happily as a toddler would a crayon in an art gallery, freezing various bits of me off that somehow displeased her.  This is what happens when you take a body designed for the gloomy 50 degree latitude climes of Northern Europe and drop it down outside at 25 degrees whilst telling its owner to paint the outside of a house.

The only faintly notable outcome was that upon my return I found that the front of my sole-remaining-and-greatly-dilapidated pair of underpants was ever so slightly damp.  This reminded me of my “Cyclone Alfred” experience earlier this year when although nappy-clad, I had decided to keep myself dry to simplify possible emergency extrication.  No matter how honourable my intent, there always seemed to be a small moist spot at the relevant location.  It was nothing like a bladder full.  If it WAS pee (as opposed to slightly elevated sweating), it had to be no more than a drop or three but it did seem odd.

Today, all the freeze-burns have crusted over and I look like I’ve been shot-gun blasted with adhesive corn flakes.  At least none of the offending skin bits were in my nappy zone.  She had a good look at least around the edges down there.  I suppose it all being shaved and possibly having sudo-crem residue might seem odd.

[Stroller]

19 hours ago, oznl said:

The general assumption of many “in the know” is that I’m actually incontinent by now but haven’t worked that out for myself.  Whilst I accept that systems are not exactly factory fresh in the downstairs waterworks department, brief nappy-free outings such as this confirm that continence is highly resilient and that a usable chunk of it remains.

I can't say I've still got any control at all these days, apart from in my sleep. All my medical visits have got to be nappied ones. And it turned out to be no big deal, I suppose because I've no longer got any trace of shame about any of this. I wear either a pull-up or a white disposable - usually the latter. And if I need to strip down far enough for it to show I just explain that I've got bladder control issues.  Works every time!

[Little Sherri]

I haven't completely come to terms with how I am going to deal with this aspect of recreationally living in diapers. I've had a couple of experiences being in diapers in medical situations, generally inadvertently, that I've detailed. One involved a transparent disposable hospital gown, over a white plastic disposable diaper, during the pandemic's rapid undoing of conventions, when I went for an MRI at a gigantic downtown hospital. However, that was only seen by some anonymous technicians that I will likely never have to deal with again. Oh, and a 1/3-full waiting room that probably had 25 people in it. 

The other was when I wore a sober, grey pullup to, ironically, an appointment with a urologist, who decided that since I'd stepped into his spider's web, and had never been digitally assaulted, today was my lucky day. He, and a resident auditioning to be another he, politely requested that I drop my drawers, and lie on my side, on an examination table. I had thought we were there to discuss bloodwork and urine analysis. I swallowed hard, but in that moment, revealing that I had shown up wearing a pull-on nappy, to a couple of strangers, was the second most intimidating aspect of the encounter. They paid zero attention to my disposable underpants, which I was grateful for, although in retrospect, I remain curious as to how focused they were on the one thing that had brought me to their lair, given how relevant a middle-aged guy in disposable underpants would presumably be, to their raison d'etre. It's like visiting a cardiologist regarding a prescription renewal, while sweating and clutching at your chest, and leaving with the script updated, and nothing more. But I was glad they didn't ask - I'm not sure my cubic zirconia,  canned answer would have passed their jeweler's loupe examination. 

My family physician, the medical professional that I interact the most with, has been seeing me every few years, since I was barely able to drive, so surely, he has a gambling problem, and/or hates his wife, because he's still at it, and the math suggests that he's in his mid 70's, anyway. At some point, presumably, he'll call it a career, and then I'll need to fine a new primary care practitioner. My plan, as I picture it in my mind right now, is to put on the intake form that I've had bladder containment issues for years, and then if asked about it, to say that I talked it over with my previous physician, and even saw a urologist, but they said that their best ideas involved medications that are about 30% effective, and have all kinds of annoying side-effects, such as dry eyes, a dry mouth, bad breath... but, a 1 in 3.33333 chance of having a dry bum.  So, I've worked out my own solution, which comes in white, or a variety of prints, and I'm fine with it, next question, please. 

But that's me talking brave, sitting here in my nappy, in my office. I might chicken out, when the day finally arrives. I'm sure I could hold it for the consultation. Although I do not currently own any underpants that don't open at the sides. But that is easily rectified. I suppose I could borrow knickers from my wife.

But, I've buried the lead, @oznl: I had a dream about your wife! Whom I've never met. You were in it, too, although your appearance was amorphous, the tall Australian who never quite came into focus. The whole thing made no sense, except that I met you, and your spouse, and I ended up talking to her, outside of, and about, her car, which in the dream, was a red BMW M4. You were seated in the car, and talking to us through the window. She had on a dark, professional looking pantsuit, and a black leather jacket, and she had medium-length, dark hair, that hung down at the front, but was either shorter, or pinned up, at the back. She also seemed tall, and was not bad looking, if somewhat severe. 

I had the feeling that she could see right through me, and knew I had a nappy on, but was making pleasant small talk, despite my being another one of "those", because I'd come a long way to visit. It seemed like I was being introduced to her, and then you and I were going to meet up later. You were heading somewhere in the car, and then we were going to reconvene. 

I think this might stem from the lady up the street having been over for tea this week, the one who walked up behind me while I was inflating a tire on my driveway, and got an eyeful of a couple of inches of white plastic, I suspect. I had the same feeling, chatting with her, in my kitchen. "This lady knows I have a diaper on. Interesting." 

[oznl]

12 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

But, I've buried the lead, @oznl: I had a dream about your wife! Whom I've never met. You were in it, too, although your appearance was amorphous, the tall Australian who never quite came into focus. The whole thing made no sense, except that I met you, and your spouse, and I ended up talking to her, outside of, and about, her car, which in the dream, was a red BMW M4. You were seated in the car, and talking to us through the window. She had on a dark, professional looking pantsuit, and a black leather jacket, and she had medium-length, dark hair, that hung down at the front, but was either shorter, or pinned up, at the back. She also seemed tall, and was not bad looking, if somewhat severe. 

I had the feeling that she could see right through me, and knew I had a nappy on, but was making pleasant small talk, despite my being another one of "those", because I'd come a long way to visit. It seemed like I was being introduced to her, and then you and I were going to meet up later. You were heading somewhere in the car, and then we were going to reconvene. 

Part of the reasons why I find dreams so interesting is that they can do such a good job of re-presenting things we already knew.

Many (not all) of those descriptions are correct.  I suspect they have been stitched together from numerous, isolated cues that were provided in different posts in different times.

I need to be cautious not to reveal TOO much about my long-suffering beloved because I do not have her consent to do so (and would be stunningly unlikely to receive such consent, perhaps just a glancing blow with a piece of crockery for asking).

To counteract this, I should point out that she’s started buying laundry sanitiser.  I used to buy this myself as it’s just used for nappies.  Either she’s decided that it’s good for other stuff or, more likely, she’s just accepted that my cloth nappies are less objectionable sanitised and she doesn’t want me running out.

To your dream:  as I mentioned, much of what you dreamed has some accuracy and has been pulled together from a wide range of small hints over time.

I’ve oft-said she gets a bad press here because I must constrain myself from saying too much about her here but I need, for the sake of veracity, to provide *some* insight to her reactions/interactions with this venture.  These have been mostly negativ so it’s almost always bad news that she features in.  I suspect this is reflected in you dreaming her as severe.  She isn’t, usually, most of the time.

She *does* have a ridiculously impractical (for her demographic) sports coupe.  I know that’s been shared.  I can’t remember sharing that it is red but it is so I probably did.  It’s not a BMW M4 though: too many cylinders for that.  I’m also glad it’s NOT a Beemer because she keeps cars too long (falls in love with them) and I’ve owned enough Beemers to understand that the magic spell lapses shortly after the car’s fifth birthday and they turn into expensive turds.

The physical description of her is not a million miles off either.

There are one or two others on this place who I know well enough to plug into mainstream life somehow if the opportunity arises.  Beloved even knows faintly of some of them indirectly (part of my “normalisation” strategy) as shadowy figures from past industry life that I "talk to" from LinkedIn.  As I worked for a multinational most of my life it’s perfectly normal for these folk to be scattered across the planet so that doesn’t faze her in any way.

If you find yourself down my way I’m sure we’ll find a way to catch up. 

 

[oznl]

Historically, as parents, beloved and I have always hosted the family Christmas party here at Chez Oznl.  We have space, finances, spare rooms, scenery and a swimming pool.  That was the plan up until Tuesday when Daughter #1 announced to my beloved that with a 2 year old, it was now too much trouble for her to travel so instead, the entire family should bring the Christmas party to HER house and stay there for that and then Boxing Day after it.

There are some drawbacks with this cunning plan

Daughter #1 lives in a small, newish house in a small, newish housing estate in a somewhat-drab and facility-free outer suburb.  A place typical for first home buyers starting families.  It appears respectable enough from the street until you step past the front door at which point your travelling companions “Proportion” and “Balance” remain respectfully outside, waiting by the letterbox for indoors, “on the spectrum” parenting of toddlers rules like a drunken tyrant. 

ALL conceivable surfaces (including floors) are cluttered by innumerable bright plastic toddler toys in various states of disassembly, coated with a pervasive film of dried mucous and saliva.  It looks like somebody threw a snot-grenade into a Toys’r’Us.  Every cupboard and power outlet is toddler-protected.  Soft, squishy fall-safe toddler mats cover every floor, their pastel hues muted with grime, saliva and food scraps that the pack of household dogs (the primary agents for floor cleaning) have been unable to extract from them.  To a height of one meter (the reach of said toddler), every wall is grey and grubby, every window opaque with finger prints and random cartoon stickers.   Foam padding has been duct-taped to every household edge and corner so that her toddler can run indoors without having to look or experience consequences.  The highly limited population of available chairs are ripped and soiled by dogs if not outright claimed by them.

Outdoors is worse.  A bleak square of patchy unkempt grass and mud bordered at each side by a grey council timber fence, it’s a small, shade-free minefield of dog turds, decomposing dog meat and discarded toddler toys picked over by free-range chickens.  At Christmas time here the heat is fierce.

Unsurprisingly, much visiting time is spent awkwardly on ones feet indoors trying not to stand on discarded toys, hopefully within reach of the perpetually-struggling air conditioner.  Large dogs cadge for food continuously with a vague undercurrent of menace whilst “Bluey” and “Wiggles” roar on endless loop on what used to be the family television.

Grown up conversations are difficult at best.  Adult activities are strictly governed by toddler “nap times” with noise abatement controls and long periods of solitude for visitors as the toddler in question is apparently incapable of undertaking a nap without one or more parents accompanying them.  All meals are toddler meals that conclude when said toddler starts throwing food at guests instead of smearing it into his hair.

The house has become a kind of kindergarten “Stranger Things”.  It couldn’t be less suited to hosting large parties if it was on fire.  It’s totally the place where the extended family should gather, and stay OVERNIGHT for both Christmas and Boxing Day celebrations.

So that’s what my beloved unilaterally agreed to do.

I tried.  I reasoned, I argued, I even sulked but none of this matched the emotional-terrorism-threat of a grandchild withheld from a Grandmother’s Christmas grasp.

Recognising the inevitable I conceded, changing strategies to instead mitigate the disaster.  I’m currently negotiating for a later arrival time (Christmas dinner rather than lunch) and an earlier Boxing Day departure (after lunch rather than nightfall).  It remains to be seen how successful I will be.  Daughter #1 is NOT known for flexibility.

Daughter #2, devastated at the 11th hour loss of a parentally-catered poolside/beachside Christmas, has reluctantly conceded that they will visit but will not stay (possibly invoking the wrath of daughter #1 but that’s not my circus).  Living as Daughter #2 does in the same city (in a single-bedroom, inner-city parking-free flat), that is an option available to her but not to us out-of-towners.

I’ve never stayed overnight with Daughter #1.  This isn’t entirely due to my nappy dependence.  She’s long since grown up and it’s not my place to tell her now to manage her household but that doesn’t mean that I have to be a part of it.  My beloved has stayed there.  She talks in veiled terms of the “guest room” (which is in fact, an auxiliary toy storage room behind the garage, the living areas, kitchen, other bedrooms and garage itself being unable to accommodate all the toys).  It is un-airconditioned.  The nearest (only) bathroom is tiny, shared, awash with toddler infrastructure and in a stunning piece of architectural mediocrity, opens directly onto the kitchen.

Being a newish outer suburban housing estate, there is no hotel anywhere in the immediate area and in any case, recourse to one would contravene Daughter #1’s orders.

I’m well acquainted with sub-optimal Christmases.  I’ve had a few as a kid.  Consequentially, I’m not too sentimental about a crappy day or two.  Hosting Christmas however gives me both things to do and the possibility of strategic retreat within my own space.  Down there I will be trapped with literally nothing to do.  I’m more concerned with boredom.

And then, there are the nappy-logistics issues which are considerable.

Driving down to Brisbane on Christmas day is likely to be a 3 hour trip or more due to expected Christmas Day hell-ish traffic.  I will need to be in nappies as most of it is motorway driving (at a walking pace) and there wouldn’t be enough stops.  I can’t last anywhere near that long now.

So I will arrive in a wet nappy.  That’s not unprecedented but staying there for two days is.

If it’s too wet, I can try (somehow) to change into a tactical pull-up to guard against the inevitable damp spots these days and try to use a toilet to minimise its work. 

My bedwetting remains the new default however.  Even if did not simply pee in my sleep but was awake (a distinct possibility in an airless room at 30C), I’d have to get up at least two or three times and run a dog-gauntlet through a toddler minefield in the dark silently.  Realistically I’m going to have to wear a nappy to bed.  If I manage to sneak enough alcohol on board (my objective to achieve slumber), I will fall asleep and likely wet the bed anyway.  So a decent night nappy is obligatory.

My private changing/waste disposal options are nil.  I don’t think that kitchen-facing bathroom door even shuts completely due to wedged toddler baths.  I’ll probably have to try to change in the “guest room”, possibly in front of beloved before bagging and hiding the wet nappies for subsequent exfiltration to our car without attracting the dogs attention who consider any handheld items as treats and therefore fair game for theft.  I’ll have to buy wet wipes: showering will be out of the question.

The trip back up the Bruce Highway on Boxing Day will also be epic: this is the day when the half of Brisbane that doesn’t go to the Gold Coast, goes to the Sunshine Coast.  I’ve done it once before in my life: it took more than 4 hours.  I’ll have to wear a nappy again for such a trip and we’re talking Rearz Inspire Mega+, not a pull-up as it’s unlikely I’ll be able to change between arising and departure.

I told my beloved that I’d HAVE to be in nappies for this venture for sheer necessity and she was going to have to work with me on that. 

She swiftly agreed, almost enthusiastically: probably more from relief that I was prepared to capitulate my own merry Christmas for the sake of peace on Earth rather than her loving the idea of al-fresco nappy changes.  We’ll see how her resolve holds as I’m trying to quietly rip off the tapes of a pee-sodden night nappy standing next to her in a bedroom filled with discarded toys whilst a toddler is banging at the door accompanied by barking dogs.

This is likely to be very, very dull and at the same time uncomfortable and thanks to nappies, extremely inconvenient Christmas break.

Hopefully others will manage better.

Ho, ho, frigging ho…

[FretaBWet]

One word comes to mind reading this, NO. I feel your pain and I realize your decision to fold is the right decision for you. As @Little Sherri always says, at least your not going to be living in a van somewhere but knowing myself, if my eldest tried this I would tell her to stay home. My own personality precludes me from knuckling under to extortion which is exactly what this is. Good luck and I'm so looking forward to your after action report.

Hugs,

Freta

[Little Sherri]

You have described this so, so well, @oznl. I feel your pain. This probable future likely also awaits me, as housing where I live is eyewateringly expensive, and anyone who hasn't had one for 20 years, has to contemplate shouldering a mortgage that is approaching seven figures. SO my kids aren't going to have nice places for a while. I can only hope that they prefer the accoutrements, and auto-filling food and beverage fridges, of my house, to putting up with wedging us into whatever their starter homes or apartments look like, at the holidays. Honestly, your place sounds great - why wouldn't they want a vacation on the coast, at the height of summer, for the cost of half a tank of gas? 

We had a philosophy, when our kids were young, that we were going to raise them to be adaptable, and that has mostly worked out - we took them all over the place, when they were babies and toddlers. But I have seen the phenomena you are describing, play out with friends of ours whose kids now have kids - that all must pivot on the fulcrum of their offspring's alleged requirements. Sigh. 

The room not being airconditioned would be a complete nonstarter for my wife; we'd be staying at the Hilton Garden Inn, or wherever, even if it was by the airport, and required a 45-minute Uber. I'll leave, pickled, at midnight, and be back for breakfast - you won't even miss me. I'll get Starbucks. 

My in-laws will be gracing us this year, so CNN will be on the entire time, and my father-in-law will look askance at me, when they're heading out to midnight mass, and I'm pouring myself a Scotch, and getting ready to watch a movie, and wrap presents. I'll won't be free to lounge in a corpulent nappy, in the glow of my Christmas tree and fireplace, while anesthetizing myself with ethanol, for a couple of days. I'll still lounge in the glow and the anesthesia, but I'll have to be wearing camouflage of some sort. Still, it sounds like heaven on earth, compared to what you've got queued up. 

If they have a diaper genie or other such receptacle, for the lad's leavings, for fun, maybe see if it can choke back a BeDry Night Premium...?  

[oznl]

12 hours ago, FretaBWet said:

I feel your pain and I realize your decision to fold is the right decision for you. As @Little Sherri always says, at least your not going to be living in a van somewhere but knowing myself, if my eldest tried this I would tell her to stay home. My own personality precludes me from knuckling under to extortion which is exactly what this is. Good luck and I'm so looking forward to your after action report.

It’s complicated.  Whilst Christmas at our place is even objectively, by far and away the more attractive (as well as traditional) solution, flipping the message the other way reads “Bring me my grandchild on Christmas day” which is also arguably unfair so probably not quite meeting the bar for extortion 🤣

The lowest common denominator of the situation (that everybody except Daughter #1 can agree upon) is that having a 48 hour Christmas marathon down there is likely to be trying.

Simply declining to attend (a position I briefly experimented with) rapidly became untenable as I would end up on the wrong side of everybody.  Better to “take one for the team”.  It’s not a hill I’d particularly care to die on.

11 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

We had a philosophy, when our kids were young, that we were going to raise them to be adaptable, and that has mostly worked out - we took them all over the place, when they were babies and toddlers. But I have seen the phenomena you are describing, play out with friends of ours whose kids now have kids - that all must pivot on the fulcrum of their offspring's alleged requirements. Sigh. 

This is SOOO much a thing.  This kid has a constellation of special needs, accommodations, food allergies, preferences and unrequited toy requirements (you should see the Christmas gift list) that it beggars belief.  The entire household orbits him like a star.  Whilst I’m aware of the stereotype of grandparents criticizing their own kids’ parenting styles I do wonder how on earth children raised in this hyper-protected incubator will develop any kind of resilience.

11 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

If they have a diaper genie or other such receptacle, for the lad's leavings, for fun, maybe see if it can choke back a BeDry Night Premium...?  

I imagine that would be where this kid sleeps: his parent's bedroom of course.  So just no, on SO many levels 🤣

[Stroller]

Reading between the lines, I'd guess you're not looking forward to Christmas much...

We're going to have a busy house (well, busy for us anyway).  Both the kids, plus my mother-in-law, who used to dominate Christmas, but is no longer in a fit state to do so. She'll be a handful though, all the same. But I'll be at home, with a willing co-conspirator as far as my nappied state is concerned, so we'll be OK. Just got to decide whether to go into disposables for the duration, to avoid the added complication of keeping the 48-hour wash/dry cycle under the covers. I probably will, so landfill watch out!

[soggster]

I know this is twee, but these can be seen as fortifying tests of your dedication to diapers. Choosing to continue to commit to 24/7 involves these challenges and we wouldn't persist through them if we didn't really want to.

You've got this. That said I'm very glad it's not me having to take the challenge. Of course, you can always drain the oil out of your car if you need to engineer a catastrophic failure which requires you to stay home. It's not exactly stellar behaviour though 😅

 

[oznl]

4 hours ago, soggster said:

I know this is twee, but these can be seen as fortifying tests of your dedication to diapers. Choosing to continue to commit to 24/7 involves these challenges and we wouldn't persist through them if we didn't really want to.

Oh I'll do it alright.  For nights at least, I no longer have any choice.  I've done plenty of corporate travel whilst 24/7 so I've certainly had my nappies "on the road" before.  Just not perhaps quite so up-close-and-personal but I'll do it.  I just like to complain about things.

4 hours ago, soggster said:

Of course, you can always drain the oil out of your car if you need to engineer a catastrophic failure which requires you to stay home. It's not exactly stellar behaviour though 😅

Well since my car is an EV and there is no charging down there we'll be taking my beloved's beloved V8 coupe.  A sabotage attempt on THAT sacred cow would come at an incalculable domestic price 🤣

[FretaBWet]

I can't help being impressed on your wife's affinity for 2 seat V8 automobiles.

Hugs,

Freta

[oznl]

The update below was written early on Christmas day but in a stunning piece of stuffery, I managed NOT to post it.  In defense of myself, I got distracted by another DD post of much greater importance and lost some perspective (hope you are doing ok @SpiderBaby )  Here is the belated "update".  I'll update this update when people stop turning up at our house for meals.

It’s Christmas day down here in the great upside down and here is a very short update that it’s unlikely any of you will read.  If you ARE reading this on Christmas day (or Christmas Eve for most of the planet), well, points for commitment.

We’re about to leave for our 48 hour crappy Christmas crusade.

As for nappy management, summoning up “career-mode-oznl” I simply formulated a plan.  I find plans are important in the pursuit of outcomes.  Either they provide a bread crumb trail leading towards ones desired objective or, they provide a convenient benchmark by which failure might be measured.

I have a nappy budget, a small contingency to cope with 24 hours delay, my anonymous travel-laundry bag, an old pair of “travel weight” lined waterproof pants for dry bed insurance, small travel-friendly quantities of sudo-crème and in a new twist for me, wet wipes.  Not wimpy baby ones: proper “incontinence supply” adult sized anti-bacterial wet wipes designed for unflinching expungement of unmentionables.  I’m not planning on filling any nappies at the familial Christmas party but I do suspect I will be unable to shower at changing time and so plan to rely upon the hygienic horsepower of aloe vera laced with Dettol.

I’m clad in a Rearz Inspire Mega+ under over-sized black jeans, black shapewear pants and plastic pants that should last me through until nightfall.

The weather?  Well, it’s done what it’s done practically every time I’ve headed down south this year.  Monsoonal severe thunderstorms interspersed with oppressive heat and humidity.

The couple is stuffed with presents – mostly for a toddler and I’m about to spend 4 hours attempting a 2 hour trip.

See you on the flip side of Chrissy!

[oznl]

And like yesterday’s bean burrito, Christmas is behind us.

The two day festival conducted down at the kid’s place, unfortunately, did not surprise.  The “celebrations” were about as bleak as I’d expected involving as they did, a very large amount of standing about awkwardly watching a toddler lick brightly coloured plastic objects amongst way-too-many toys whilst “Bluey” ran in an infinite loop on the large, wall-mounted flat-screen TV that dominated the small living room. 

Conversational topics were limited to toddlerhood: one toddlerhood in particular.  Alcohol was frowned upon (I sneaked some beer anyway).  No catering allowances were made for my inability to tolerate Christmas pudding (no problems: at least I didn’t over-eat) and the fleet of large dogs was periodically unleashed into the room to clean the toddler-discarded food remnants from the floor.

Curfew was 9pm – already too late for the toddler.  Alone with beloved, we found some grown-up YouTube and sneakily drank some wine until around 11pm.  The guest bedroom was small, hot, cluttered and airless.  Imagine attempting to spend a summer night in the trunk of an abandoned Buick somewhere in the Mojave desert.

I didn’t wet the bed.  I didn’t even wet my night nappy (much).  This was partly because I was perpetually dehydrated but mostly because I didn’t sleep: at all.  I just couldn’t.  I was too hot and too uncomfortable.

Just before bed I’d already had to endure pulling out a clean nappy and terry-lined plastic pants from a rucksack under my beloved’s thoughtful gaze.  There was nowhere else to do it.  Looking at the state of the guest bathroom, I decided to forgo a shower.  Instead I cleaned myself as best as I could with wipes as I changed from a mildly-wet daytime Rearz Inspire Mega into a Colin (Rearz InControl Night Premium).  For safety, I wore pyjama pants over the top in order to waddle the short distances from the bathroom back to our guest-room even though it was way past toddler bedtime and only dogs were there to escort me.

Sleep then failed to appear.

At around 1am, I realised I needed a wee.  Aware of my fully-awake status and the difficulty in disposing of wet nappies (my wet day nappy was balled up in my rucksack beside me where I could hopefully stop one of the dogs retrieving it – my beloved watched me stuff it there) I decided to risk the dog-gauntlet and just get up to use the toilet.

So I did.  I didn’t care about how getting out of my bed resets my body into “awake” mode.  I was awake anyway.

At 3am, I did that again.  At least it helped pass the time.

At 5am, a dog roused me, nuzzling at my elbow and whining.  I must have dozed a little.  The dog needed a pee and so did I.  Standing orders from daughter #1 were to unleash the hounds in just such an eventuality.  So I got up and did so.  The dog fled outdoors with the accelerative enthusiasm of a champagne cork departing a bottle.

Since I was up, I decided (for the third time that night) to pee in a toilet.

I then went back to bed.  I must have dozed a little more but by about 6am, it was again toddler-time and so carpe-ing the diem was compulsory.

I was pretty much dry.  There may have been a few fugitive drips but this Colin could live to fight another day.

I find the Rearz Night Premium to be a poor daytime choice, prone to bulk and sagging when tugged by the surly bonds of gravity with the wearer upright so I changed.  Alone in the guestroom (beloved having headed into the living room to watch some “Bluey” with a toddler), I changed myself into another Rearz Inspire whilst standing against the closed door to ensure privacy and hoped that it would last until I got home.

It did.  The heat, humidity and limited access to fluids meant that I used my nappy very little across the next day which was again, overwhelmingly devoted to watching a toddler run amok amongst a pathological excess of toys whilst discussing said toddler’s various special needs and interests.

On the upside, at around 3pm my beloved took pity on me and announced that it was time for us to head home in order to “beat the traffic”.  Really it was just an escape.

Even more on the upside, the traffic was better than I expected.  The Christmas day trip down had already worked very well.  Having negotiated for Christmas dinner instead of lunch, I was able to drive at lunchtime on Christmas day.  Practically the only things on the highway at this time were speed cameras (I noticed five on the road down).  Most people were sitting down to lunch.

The drive back on Boxing Day was a little slower than normal but to be fair, still quicker than I’d anticipated.  Maybe everybody else was still in a food coma from Christmas day.  I was perfectly sober but in reality, probably too fatigued to be driving but this couldn’t be helped.  Mindful of my sleep deprivation I was extra careful.

My beloved chatted with me on the drive back.

“What’s this business of getting out of bed to go to the toilet at night?  That was doing my head in!”

I explained:

“I was completely awake.  I couldn’t sleep.  I CAN stay dry if I’m awake.  It’s just very inconvenient but with the kid, the dogs, space et cetera and realising that I was highly unlikely to get ANY sleep anyway, I just thought I’d try to stay dry at night to simplify things a bit.”

This explanation was accepted with little comment.  She was still very grateful that I’d given up pretty much any hope of enjoying my own Christmas with what she fully well knew would be a fairly bleak couple of days for me.

On the upside, we got home before 6pm.  I had a long shower followed by a beer, some more beers then some wine and some YouTube that wasn’t “Bluey”.  At around 10pm, by this time having been awake for nearly 40 hours, I staggered with a near-jetlag state of fatigue into our cool, spacious air-conditioned bedroom and fell asleep pretty much instantly.  I then proceeded to stay asleep, gloriously, abundantly and apparently dreamlessly bedwetting all night before greeting the post-festivities dawn some 10 hours later with an empty bladder and a birdbath-bum-wet Colin nappy.

Normal transmission had been resumed.

[Three Rivers]

Glad to hear you made it through the holiday's with Family. 

[NoIllDL]

@oznl:  My holidays were similar, but at least mine did not involve an overnight stay (or two) like yours.  Also, it's frigid cold where I am so no worries about a lack of A/C!

We went to an inlaw's house for Christmas Eve.  Small house, too many people, lack of basic cleanliness, and four toddlers running amuk. Toys and dog fur were everywhere and parents unconcerned about their toddlers playing in the unhygienic surrounds.  At one point, a toddler game was being played which involved the use of some picture cards; the cards were passed around and at least one of the toddlers was licking the cards.  Did a supervising (and I use the word "supervising" very lightly) say  a word about it?  Well, of course not.

We saw the same group on New Year's Eve.  Now I have a sore throat and some other cold virus symptoms.  I wonder where they may have originated....

[oznl]

9 hours ago, NoIllDL said:

We went to an inlaw's house for Christmas Eve.  Small house, too many people, lack of basic cleanliness, and four toddlers running amuk. Toys and dog fur were everywhere and parents unconcerned about their toddlers playing in the unhygienic surrounds.  At one point, a toddler game was being played which involved the use of some picture cards; the cards were passed around and at least one of the toddlers was licking the cards.  Did a supervising (and I use the word "supervising" very lightly) say  a word about it?  Well, of course not.

I think the thing that struck me was how one toddler and come to totally and completely dominate quite literally, every square inch of the house along with 100% of parental bandwidth.  I found the quantity of toys on hand to have gone beyond "excessive" and wandered into "mentally deranged".  For fear of Google, I don't dare recount specifics. 

I would regard the place as unliveable.  It's totally a parent problem.  You can't blame the toddler.  Mummy and Daddy have slipped their moorings.

Whilst (partially at the advice of medical friends) I try not to be TOO obsessed by cleanliness (the prevalence of which is now thought by some to be contributing to auto-immune dysfunction), there was no doubt in my mind that the place is a germ pit as well as dangerously cluttered.

9 hours ago, NoIllDL said:

We saw the same group on New Year's Eve.  Now I have a sore throat and some other cold virus symptoms.  I wonder where they may have originated....

Sorry to hear.  Beloved and I dodged that bullet.  Our other daughter did not and is still recovering from her Yuletide daycare disease that she took home as a souvenir.

 

[oznl]

It seems that the hijacking of the familial Christmas party by Daughter #1 and her uber-toddler (her poor husband just keeps his head low and follows orders) did not reflect any wider-scale social abandonment trend.  Since our return it’s been a conga-line of serial house guests at ours with our next “free” weekend showing as being at the end of January.

I’ve decided to call our wheelie bin “Atlas”, such has been its titanic task in the face of relentless prawn (shrimp) dinners and adult-sized nappies.  With constant household company, I didn’t pee in any cloth nappies for over a fortnight and my wallet,the planet AND Atlas the Wheelie Bin are all paying the price.

With a short break between guests I’m in cloth today.  I actually found it mentally difficult to make the transition back.  It just seemed so much easier to toss a nappy into the bin and unpack another with zero rinsing, storage and laundry.  Bad habits form fast it seems.

There’s also the low level anxiety that goes along with the solitary Australian nappy supplier of my Rearz InControl BeDry Night Premim (“Colin”) showing them as “out of stock”.  I know he’s got a container due in this month (which will presumably trigger yet another price increase) and I’ve also got a whole case that I haven’t started on yet but it never hurts to worry.

There’s no doubt that cloth nappies are more work but since I’ve more time than money these days AND I’m not 100% comfortable with throw-away mentality I am persisting with cloth.  Shortly I will peel off my uni-damp Rearz night pre-fold and plastic pants and find something cloth to replace it with whilst I go and empty out a garden shed, the inside of which will be likely hot enough to smelt aluminium, or at least drive out hostile wildlife.

The garden-shed-reengineering project is actually the last in a long line of project dependencies that will allow me to install new racking in our garage the purpose of which will be to accommodate a tumble dryer.

It’s actually not me that wants a tumble dryer.  We had one at our old address whereupon my beloved (who, like water and electricity, always takes the path of least effort) would use it relentlessly, countering the entirely unwanted heat and humidity it spewed into our house by simultaneously running our AC.

I hated it.  Whilst I’m far from any Greta Thunberg (because in my fevered imagination I’m an erudite and witty silver fox and she’s just a self-righteous teenage Scandinavian doom goblin), it’s hard for me to see how, from a planetary perspective, spurious zero-sum dryer/AC usage is a good idea.  It could be worse I suppose.  She could go for the environmental answer to the quadruple word score and jump into her V8 to head off for a spot of recreational baby dolphin shooting whilst those appliances are running.

Still, there IS a sometimes legitimate household clothes dryer requirement.  The weather here can on occasion get a bit monsoonal making line drying fall somewhere between “difficult” and “outright impossible”.  Where mid-monsoonal laundry drying requirements align with a bin full of wet, fermenting adult cloth nappies, or more topically, a load of bedding and towels triggered by departing house guests that must be cycled for the next house guests, then yes, a dryer would help a lot.

My middle road plan here is to purchase a heat pump dryer.  These are still relatively new and rare in our market but since I’m then using energy to move heat from one spot to another as opposed to simply creating heat with resistive load, I should finish up with a dryer that uses vastly less energy than the old-school garb-griller we formerly had.  Due to their weight however, heat pump tumble dryers may not be wall mounted hence the racking.

As a kind of bonus, a heat pump dryer gives you a free glass of free distilled water with every load it de-humidifies.  What’s not to love?

It will also afford me the opportunity to usefully expand the boundaries of known nappy science by reporting on how effectively heat-pump technology deals with grown up size nappies.

[Stroller]

1 hour ago, oznl said:

It will also afford me the opportunity to usefully expand the boundaries of known nappy science by reporting on how effectively heat-pump technology deals with grown up size nappies.

Our dryer takes a long time to dry anything - longer than our old dryer. It's a condensation dryer, so no damp output into the air - the water goes into the drains instead. No idea what it does with the heat though, although it's supposed to be much more energy efficient than the old one that vented hot wet air. We have 7 hours a day of electricity at a cheaper rate, so I try to get a load of washing done in 7 hours - i.e. 2 days of nappies. 2 to 2.5 hours of washing, & the drying just about fits into the rest of the 7 hours. That's in winter.  In the summer months I make more use of the washing line and drying racks in the spare bedroom.

[superabsorbantpolymer]

11 hours ago, oznl said:

There’s also the low level anxiety that goes along with the solitary Australian nappy supplier of my Rearz InControl BeDry Night Premim (“Colin”) showing them as “out of stock”.  I know he’s got a container due in this month (which will presumably trigger yet another price increase) and I’ve also got a whole case that I haven’t started on yet but it never hurts to worry.

 

How would your better half react if you started importing container loads yourself? 😂 It would be more economical and you could probably sell some on.

After reading your and others convos and a new years resolution to get better at using my diaper overnight, I ordered some kins cloth diapers. I am young enough that I didn't wear them as a child. I opted for the Velcro design in a size up from my disposable size. I mostly want to try them as extra insurance over a disposable but maybe that's not optimal? 

I've never heard of heat pump driers, but given your infernal climate it seems like a good choice. I love the smell of outdoor dried laundry tho. Clothes must dry fairly quickly in Queensland if left to hang this time of year. During your rainy season you'll be glad to have the drier tho I imagine!

[oznl]

14 hours ago, Stroller said:

Our dryer takes a long time to dry anything - longer than our old dryer. It's a condensation dryer, 

Interesting information: from your description I'm thinking that the difference between a "condensation" and a "heat pump" dryer is merely an inflection of synonym.  I hadn't thought about cycle time.  If the dryer runs between 0900 and 1600 then it will run either using cheap power (that's our off-peak period) or for free off solar so I don't care.  Roof top solar is so common in Australia now that overnight is with many electricity plans, no longer "off peak":  Off peak is daytime when the sun is shining.

I'm still interested in an 0.6kW as opposed to a 2.4kW appliance though: not to mention one that doesn't produce heat and humidity as a byproduct.  We have plenty of that already.

5 hours ago, superabsorbantpolymer said:

I've never heard of heat pump driers, but given your infernal climate it seems like a good choice. I love the smell of outdoor dried laundry tho. Clothes must dry fairly quickly in Queensland if left to hang this time of year. During your rainy season you'll be glad to have the drier tho I imagine!

If the weather gods smile, I can have crispy-dry UV-sanitised nappies in less than 4 hours for free: even thick Omutsu ones.

LIke the similarly-sized USA, Australian climate varies wildly from one location to another.  My bit is in the (very large) warm, humid sub-tropical-to-tropical zone.  In summer the heat can be fierce but humidity is also high and brief-but-torrential downpours are common enough.  One minute it's 30C and bright sunshine.  Next it's 25C and pouring rain.

In "winter", it's usually sunny and dry here but the clothes line falls into shadow quite quickly limiting the drying window.

There can often be a Russian-Roulette overlay to line-drying washing here.