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Done Adulting, Volume 1 (Now available on Amazon with a preview of Volume 2)


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8 minutes ago, CuddlesAndLove said:

Thank you for all the updates Alex! It's been an exciting day getting to slowly see the story unfold! This last one was a much needed release after the heavy bit earlier. Can't wait for the next part :)

They all deserve some good days.

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I love the way you messed with the dog scene there! I would be okay if you continued to spoil us with daily updates, but we're all going to get greedy with three in a day! Glad that Becky is at least considering the issues with the daycare. Hopefully Amanda really isn't missing much at orientation. (I recall after the first couple days no one going to much of the events at mine!)

Thanks for posting and sharing! 

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31 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

I love the way you messed with the dog scene there! I would be okay if you continued to spoil us with daily updates, but we're all going to get greedy with three in a day! Glad that Becky is at least considering the issues with the daycare. Hopefully Amanda really isn't missing much at orientation. (I recall after the first couple days no one going to much of the events at mine!)

Thanks for posting and sharing! 

Like I said in my first post, kinda my MO: burst of creativity followed by fuck all for a while. I wish I had the juice to apply this to the book I started that might actually make some money.

I’m very much hoping I can sustain this through the end of the story.

Amanda was working at orientation, but since you bring it up, all I remember from my orientation was 1) a fellow freshman making an ass of himself trying to keep up with an improv troupe, 2) being told not to get shitfaced that weekend, 3) everybody but me getting shitfaced, and 4) think I had picked the wrong school. Which I did.

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This is wonderful. I’m not sure if you’re putting in the diaper references because they are expected in a story here: if so, don’t worry, I think we’re all hooked with or without them. On the other hand, maybe you’re exploring how much better this dimension could be, in which case, stick as many ideas in as you have!

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Guest KWOceans

Oh now I'm curious. What was said? This was a really sweet chapter to read too. I like the budding friendship between Jamie and Rosie too. This story is nothing short of expert. I can hardly wait to continue reading after every chapter. 

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Thanks for the compliments, everyone. I like this part for a couple reasons, and I think it will explain @Bluebird67 why I've included some of what I have.

Also, I've gotten much better at not typing "Jaime." ?

_______________________________________

Chapter 18, Part 2

 

 

When Jamie was done playing, he took Rosie’s hand and they returned the group.

 

“Did you have fun Rosie,” Jane asked.

 

“Yes,” she said in her younger voice, “I was the only one who could catch Jamie. She winked at him.

 

“I saw. You were so good!”

 

“I bet you both worked up an appetite,” Becky said. “Are you guys ready for lunch?”

 

“Yes, please,” they said in unison.

 

“Let’s change your shirt first,” Amanda said, picking up her backpack and pulling out a clean shirt. “Do you want to keep your shoes on, or do you want your sandals?”

 

“Sandals, please.” She tossed him a shirt and helped him change his shoes. Rosie was helped into her stroller, and Jamie opted to walk. Amanda handed him another water bottle.

 

“We can walk to downtown?”

 

“It’s not downtown downtown. Just the downtown of our suburb,” Becky explained. “You know, restaurants, little shops, city hall.” It was only six blocks, but it was six Itali blocks, and Jamie was already tired when they started walking.

 

Jamie would have easily pegged the area as the older part of town. The houses looked less modern and more ornate. Some could have been featured in Giant Home and Giant Garden, if there were such a magazine. They past what looked like a church, though Jamie had no idea if they had churches and, if they did, no reason to think church architecture here was the same as back home.

 

Across from the church was where the commercial district started. Bar-and-grill restaurants stood on opposite corners. A small hardware store was nearby. Clothing boutiques, an antique store, a bike shop, knick-knacks, other restaurants. It was a healthy downtown, and Jamie sensed a spirit of community and civic pride.

 

Becky led them into a tavern that said “O’Donnell’s” on the door. A waitress greeted them between the bar and half-wall with a brass railing past which were the booths and tables. “Three and two littles?”

 

“Yes,” Becky answered.

 

The waitress took five menus and showed them to a table. “Do we need highchairs?”

 

“How about one highchair and one booster seat.” The waitress nodded and was back shortly with both. Jamie looked at the menu. It was laminated and felt well used, old, the way menus at long-established restaurants are supposed to feel. On the walls were pictures, some that looked decades old, of sports teams; Jamie assumed they from the local schools.

 

“You can order from the regular menu or the little menu,” Becky explained.

 

“Can I start you off with some drinks,” asked a new waitress. Everyone stuck with water.

 

“Is the little menu like the food from the grocery store,” Jamie asked.

 

“Yep, and it’s a smaller portion size.” Jamie liked the sound of that. He wasn’t sure what it was about the formula and the cookies; it wasn’t just that they were sweet or even that they tasted so good. It was more like a feeling of release. Jamie knew about how the brain worked, and he figured whatever it was triggered some kind of dopamine and serotonin release. He’d be worried, but he assumed they wouldn’t put anything harmful in little food. Sugar, he knew, was the bigger threat. There wasn’t much on the menu Jamie could eat yet; he chose the grilled cheese. When he emptied his water glass, Amanda refilled it from his bottle.

 

The bigs chatted, and Jamie peopled watched. There was the office crowd, but it was small. There weren’t many offices around that he could see on the way. There was the stay-at-home parent crowd, like they were, at least until summer was over. More tables, though, were occupied by older people, young retirees to old retirees. Jamie watched them and tried to listen to the conversations nearest him.

 

After a few months in his first job, he liked to tell people that when he grew up he wanted to be a retiree for a living. It was just a little gallows humor, but the core of truth in it always bothered him a bit. It seemed a waste to have to wait until the very end of middle age to be able to have leisure in life; real leisure, not weekends interrupted by errands and two weeks a year spent answering emails on a beach. Leisure to learn; leisure to grow; leisure to just relax, take a greater interest in the people in your life, be a part of your community.

 

Not everyone gets to retire, he knew, and it wasn’t just that some people had to keep working into old age, but that some people didn’t make it retirement. Life was as much luck as design, and a system that left some people working up until they died young seemed a system not designed for the humans stuck within it. Or those who did make it to retirement age, but with such health problems they couldn’t enjoy the years they had literally worked their entire lives for. What good did that system do for anyone, he wanted to know, who wanted to put more of the brief time they had to their own purposes? Even those at the top didn’t benefit from it; there was no longer such as a leisure class defined by wealth; now, the wealthy work longer than the people like Jamie, sadly, it seemed, because they couldn’t think of anything better to do.

 

So Jamie watched the retirees, some of whom must have been eating here for decades, whose pictures may even be on the walls. Perhaps some of the met their friends here once a week. Perhaps their lunch out was part of some eventful day. Regardless, they looked happier than the office crowd or the stay-at-home parent crowd. This was the time they had worked for, the time to linger over a meal with someone they cared about.

 

“Jamie?”

 

“Oh! Sorry, I was watching people. Um, what did you ask?”

 

“Whether you were excited for day care.”

 

“Well,” he pondered, “It’s gonna be a hard, I think. But, sort of, I am.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“I miss getting to know new people. I don’t like being very social, but I still like to meet new people; maybe I’ll even make a friend.”

 

“I think that’s a very positive attitude to have,” Jane said. “Some littles go to day care screaming like they’re being left on the street corner in a cardboard box marked ‘FREE.’”

 

That got some laughs, except from Rosie who has engrossed in coloring in a book. Jamie tried to see if, but he couldn’t from this angle.

 

“Are you scared at all?”

 

Jamie half-frowned. “Yeah, a little. I don’t make friends easily. And I haven’t had much luck with bigs so far, except family and you, Jane.”

 

Their lunches arrived. Jamie’s was as good as he expected it to be. The French fries were perfect, the bread was grilled just the right amount, the blend of cheeses was perfect, and it all melted together so well.

 

“Watching you today I think you’re going to make friends easily.”

 

“Ya think so? I’m kinda worried about being the only unregressed little. Or, maybe the only.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because … if you’re regressed then it make sense for bigs to treat you the way they do. If you’re not … some of it seems … infantilizing. And I wonder if some people, even littles, judge people like that.”

 

Becky and Jane tried to reassure him with a smile. Rosie, as always, looked like she and she alone knew where to find unicorns and couldn’t be happier to keep the secret. Amanda looked uncomfortable.

 

“Baby,” Becky began, “No one judges littles for being littles, I promise you.” Jamie smiled back, but he didn’t understand. What was the difference between treating someone like an infant and treating a little like a little? And where did that leave him, someone with the mind and body of an adult? Like he signed away his agency and his autonomy, essentially agree to be treated however a big wanted to fully aware he capable of taking care of himself? It also wasn’t lost on him that Becky had addressed the judgement part, but she hadn’t addressed, maybe didn’t even notice, Jamie’s implication that, to him at least, it didn’t make sense to treat an unregrssed little like a regressed little. At least, not in so many ways.

 

Jamie could see how it make sense to bigs if they saw all littles as never being adults, though he wondered what the right analogy would be then (pets, sub-people, mentally incompetent?). He didn’t see himself that way. Even as he became more comfortable with being here, he didn’t know why he was here or how he thought it would help or why Cheryl thought it would or if he should be resisting every attempt to “little-ize” him or infantilize him with every tool he could grab hold to.

 

Becky continued, “It’s like we talked about, remember, the day of your doctor visit? You’re a little, too, different from the regressed ones but still a little. And bigs like us and the people at the day care – who I made sure you’re going to like – know what’s best for littles. You just follow the rules and be yourself, and everyone will love you by the end of the day. I promise.”

 

Jamie did remember that conversation, and he remembered the question he chose not to ask that day: But why do littles get treated differently? He wanted to ask now, but he was suddenly feeling tired from playing. Very, very tired. And good. Tired and good. Good and tired, he thought in his head but chuckled out loud.

 

“Okay, Becky. Want some of my French fwies?” All she had was a salad. How boring was a salad? It hardly had any fat in it! Did I just say ”fwies,” Jamie wondered.

“No thank you, sweety.” Jamie didn’t either; he was done with his lunch. He didn’t hear much of the rest of the conversation.

 

When everyone was done, Jamie felt so good. His muscles were loose, and he felt warm but not too warm. He was fine staying there for a while. Maybe getting a fresh order of those French fries in a bit.

 

“Ready to go, Jamie?” He smiled back at Amanda, who knelt down to get a closer look when he didn’t respond.

 

“Everything alright, Amanda,” Becky asked. Amanda waved her hand in front of Jamie’s face. His eyes looked heavy.

 

“Yeah, he’s fine. If he’s going to play that hard, we should make sure he eats some regular food before little food. I think it just got good to him,” she chuckled. She lifted him up on her shoulder and carried him back to the entrance, where they’d left their strollers.

 

Jane looked at his eyes, drooping so far. “I think they call that ‘food drunk.’ Sorta like a sugar crash but without the ground shattering temper tantrum. He’ll get used to it the more little food he eats.”

 

Jamie fell asleep on the ride home dreaming of dipping French fries in cookies blended with formula.

­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

Jamie woke up in his crib feeling especially well rested, and also thirsty. A bottle of water was there with him, and he drank without stopping until half of it was gone. As after every afternoon nap, he did his business knowing someone would be in soon. As it very nearly always was, Amanda came in.

 

“Hey, buddy. Ya sleep good? You were out like a light.”

 

“Yeah, real good.” He still sounded sleepy, but really he was just very relaxed. She lowered the rail and moved him to the changing table. She’d put socks on him because his feet felt so cold, and now one was hanging off his foot. She had an evil idea. She buckled the two straps over Jamie.

 

“Why’d you do that?” Neither she nor Becky had in a long while.

 

Coyly, Amanda answered, “In case you squirm.”

 

Jamie felt a little demeaned by that comment. “I never squirm.”

 

“No, but you might today.” The sock came off, and Amanda went to town tickling his foot. Jamie did indeed squirm and laugh and beg and laugh til he cried. Amanda hadn’t done that to him in a while. Jamie had no objection.

 

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up.” Amanda went to work. “Can I ask you something, Jamie?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“At lunch today, when you said you sometimes feel infantilized, when you feel that way, how does that make you feel?”

 

“Um, guess it depends on who’s doing it, and why. And how. Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of. Other times, it feels like … people are belittling me, even if they don’t mean to.”

 

Amanda felt a little hollow space open up in her chest. “Do Mom or I ever make you feel belittled?”

 

“No! Not at all.”

 

“Ever?”

 

“Well … when I first got here, for a while. But not anymore. Maybe sometimes, for a bit, but I can’t even remember the last time.”

 

Amanda had been thinking about this for a while. She wasn’t sure she should bring it up. Her mother would probably by very upset if she did, and as much as Jamie denied it, she was sure he more than a little nervous about day care. But given what Jamie had said, it seemed like now was the time to rock the boat, even if it wasn’t a good time. But Amanda asked herself, who are you really responsible to?

 

“You really do know when you need to use the bathroom, don’t you?”

 

“What?!? Are you kidding me? You knew!?!” Jamie instinctively tried to sit up, but he was still strapped in.

 

“Yeah, well, for a while now.”

 

“Just how long is a while?”

 

“Uh … your second day here. No little can go as long as you did dry; I don’t even think a big could hold it that long without some serious pain. And you only ever have a poopy diaper at home, and almost always after your nap. No one is that regular.”

 

Jamie’s head was spinning. “FUCK! Why didn’t you say anything? I thought you were on my side!”

 

“I am … no, there are no sides. You, me, mom – we’re on the same team.”

 

“I. Am not. On Team Diaper.”

 

“Look, it’s Mom’s decision. And besides …”

 

“Besides what? And you could have told her!”

 

“I’m not sure she’d have understood me any more than she understood you.”

 

“Yeah, but you could have tried!”

 

“I didn’t because …” She exhaled, expecting an unhappy response. “I think they’re helping you.”

 

“How … the fuck … are they helping me?”

 

“Alright, buster. Language. One more F-bomb today and even I’ll put you in time out.”

 

“… Sorry …”

 

“You need to learn to trust people and give up control.”

 

“Of … my bowels?” His face was a mixture of incredulity and profound annoyance.

 

“No, you need to let yourself depend on others. Until you do, and let others help you, you’re never going to stop being Eric, somewhere in there.” She said, poking him gently on the temple.

 

“And Eric was miserable. And giving up control, letting others help you, letting yourself depend on others and letting them show they love you – all that will help you get rid of the parts of Eric that made you so unhappy.”

 

Jamie didn’t reply. He folded his arms across his chest and thought about what she just said. He didn’t disagree with the goal or the means, but this specific form of the means – ugh!

 

Amanda waivered again in deciding what to say next. “Besides … I know you don’t hate it.”

 

“I do, too!”

 

“No, you don’t. I see your potty face sometimes. You may be embarrassed and hate that, but you don’t hate the sensation.”

 

Jamie hadn’t considered he even had a ‘potty face.’ He wished she hadn’t told him. But she was right, he knew, it didn’t feel so bad. Sometimes it even felt good.

 

“And it’s pretty obvious you do like this part of it … and not just the sensations.”

 

“What’s that mean?”

 

“That if we didn’t have this time together, you’d miss it.”

 

“ …Yeah…”

 

“… And so would I … And anyway, I know it doesn’t feel so bad.”

 

“How the fff…” He stopped himself and took a breath. “How would you know?”

 

“Bedwetter.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yep. Until five years ago.”

 

“As a teen …”

 

“Hey! Little boys in dirty diapers shouldn’t throw shade, you little stink rat!”

 

“I didn’t mean …”

 

“I know. I’m just teasing.”

 

“So Becky doesn’t know?”

 

“Mom?  Not a clue. Even if she wanted to believe it, and she definitely doesn’t, I’m not sure she could wrap her head around it.”

 

“How is that even possible? It’s like trying to explain calculus to a 10-year-old.” Jamie didn’t know 9-year-old bigs learned calculus in school. “Not even calculus. It’s like trying to explain the color blue to someone who already knows what blue is and can’t believe the blue thing you’re holding is blue. It’s fff … It’s bizarre. I’d say it’s impossible but, but there it is!” He felt slightly better for venting. It’s like explaining a dog is a bear, he realized.

 

“No clue how it works. Littles and Bigs, I guess.”

 

“But you get it.”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t know why.”

 

“So you’ll try to explain it to her?”

 

“Well, that’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first. I’ll try, but only if you want me to.”

 

“Of course I want you to!”

 

“Do you? I want you to think about it for a couple days. Think about what we talked about. I’m sure this is helping you; you’re fine with it, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

 

Should she tell him this next part? “And … well, I like it this way, too, with you. Our time together.” She could see him thinking that over in his mind; it didn’t look like he perceived it as a selfish statement. That was a great relief.

 

“Will you think about it, at least for another day? After that, I’ll do whatever you want. If Mom can’t understand it, we’ll find a workaround. Promise.”

 

Jamie took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and shook his head gently. “Fine. For you.”

 

Amanda was relieved to hear that. Never mind the logistical difficulties – there was no such thing as a little-sized public toilet. She did believe this helped him, and she knew both of them would miss this. Becky would probably be unable to understand it, which would undo all the good things that had happened in their relationship, and if by some miracle she did understand it, she’d be very upset to lose this, like he was growing up to fast, and she didn’t him to grow up at all. Amanda knew, though, that what Jamie needed was to grow down. Not a lot; just a little bit. Just enough to get to the point where he could let loose his demons.

 

“Also … you’re awfully stinkin’ cute in diapers … even to the point where I don’t mind having to do this. Lift up for me…”

 

Jamie lifted his hips and pondered.

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"Rosie, as always, looked like she and she alone knew where to find unicorns and couldn’t be happier to keep the secret."

I haven't commented before, but I am really enjoying this story. It's not just the characters that you have created and their dynamics, though that is wonderful. And it's not just that this is one DD story that really feels like it might feel taking a human and transporting him to that world. It's also lines like this one, random little lines that could easily not be there but add so much because they are. And I really like Rosie, BTW: the idea that she has adjusted so well that she can turn it on and off at will completely is something I think Jamie will probably spend a lot of time with. Anyway, it's a great story. Right up there with "Exchanged" so far.

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Chapter 19

 

Jamie spent the rest of the evening alone his room except for dinner and a bedtime bath. He was glad it was Becky who gave it to him and got him ready for bed. In a way, she was blameless. She didn’t and couldn’t, apparently, know. Amanda, on the other hand, didn’t have that excuse.

 

He wondered what it meant for Amanda to be okay keeping him when she knew he didn’t need them. Even if she believed it was mentally or emotionally therapeutic, she knew it was physically unnecessary, and yet she not only went along with it but actively participated in it. She touched him down there, several times a day, and thought nothing of it. As much as she treated him more maturely than anybody else, if she did this knowing it was unnecessary, then she also did it clearly in the belief that it didn’t matter whether it was necessary or not, and that his feelings about it were a secondary concern.

 

What was that? Demeaning? Violating? Yet he knew Amanda would never demean him, not intentionally. She’d more likely cut her arm off than knowingly violate him. All Jamie had to do, he knew, was to tell her he felt those things, and she would stop, and she’d find a way to force her mother to stop.

 

But Jamie knew she didn’t intend to demean him, and he did not believe she’d do this for selfish reasons, nor to please her mother. Those motives weren’t in Amanda, not when it came to Jamie. If her motives were not unkind, that only left kind. Amanda went along with keeping him diapers, Jamie realized, because she cared about him and believed in what she was doing. She may have been misguided. But, then, maybe she wasn’t.

 

 Still, that evening Jamie was mad at her, or at least he wanted to be. She took such good care of him. Jamie thought hard on that. He asked himself, how many people in your life took care of you, not because they had to but because they wanted to; not in some perfunctory way, but with dedication and tenderness?

 

He wished she hadn’t told him. He had become resigned to it, or at least it was getting easier to ignore, and now it was front and center again. And it complicated his feelings toward her. Up until today, there was nothing complex about their relationship at all: she loved him unconditionally, he trusted her in every possible way. The former had not changed. Jamie didn’t know if the latter was still true or not. Is it possible to trust someone when they left out information like that was crucial to you?

 

So Becky bathed him and put him to bed. Amanda noticed. It wasn’t that she always did those things. She didn’t. It was more that he didn’t say much during dinner. He didn’t follow her around in the evening. His hug wasn’t tight like it was every night. It would have hurt less if he just yelled at her. And the person Amanda always talked to when she like this was the one person she couldn’t talk to about it. Nor could she talk to Jane about it. Nor did she think it appropriate to talk to Mel or, god forbid, Donna. The person she wanted to talk about it with made it pretty plain he didn’t want to talk to her right now. Amanda and Jamie both went to bed feeling gloomy.

­­­­­______________________________________________________________________________

 

It was the first day of the weekend before school started for Becky and Amanda. The two of them and Jamie were finishing their breakfast. Becky knew something was up. Neither looked happy. Becky assumed it was the prospect of not getting to spend the entire day together soon.

 

“What do the two of you want to do today? Let’s do something we haven’t done yet.” Becky tried to sound chipper, as though she, too, wasn’t unhappy with going back to work and putting Jamie in day care. “Any ideas?”

 

There were none forthcoming in the few seconds after she said. Instead, there was just a doorbell. They weren’t expecting anyone. Becky got the door.

 

“Marsha, what an unexpected surprise! Come in.” Amanda heard, grabbed the nearest dishrag, wiped off Jamie’s face, did her best to comb his hair with her hands, and moved him from his regular chair to the highchair, strapping him in for good measure.

 

“What’s going on,” he whispered.

 

“That’s your social worker,” she whispered back.

 

So, he thought, what did we need to do all that for?

 

Rebecca stepped out of the door and allowed Marsha to come in. “Good morning, Miss Webb. How have you been?” Pleasantries were exchanged.

 

“Is everything alright,” Becky asked. Unexpected visitors were always welcome, but with some you had to be wary.

 

“Everything is fine. This is just a regular home visit. Has to be a surprised, remember?”

 

“Of course. Please, come into the kitchen and meet Jamie – awake.” Becky chuckled and hope she didn’t do it nervously. She had nothing to hide, so why was the nervous.

 

“Jamie, I’d like you to meet Marsha. She’s from the agency. She’s your case worker her.” Becky introduced a big wearing clothes halfway between Saturday and business casual, pulling off neither look, with a large bag in one hand and a smile that said, I’ve been trained to be friendly and non-threatening and it didn’t work.

 

Is that what I looked like, Jamie wondered. As a social worker, he must have done around 2,000 of these in his years on the job.

 

“Nice to meet you, Marsha.”

 

“Hello, Jamie. It’s so good to see you again.”

 

“We’ve met?”

 

“When you were in the hospital. Oh, what a pitiful thing you were.” Jamie was having a hard time reading Marsha. It wasn’t clear whether she saw him as Jamie or as the average little. Her voice went both ways; her body language was consciously trying to express openness, but she seemed about business, too.

 

“Marsha is here to do your first home visit,” Becky explained. “Please, have a seat.” She sat in Jamie’s chair.

 

“That’s right, Jamie. I’m just here to see how you’re doing. We’re just gonna talk for a while? How does that sound?”

 

Talking for a while or you talking to me like … a foster kid, he thought. If life is a cycle, Jamie’s was now halfway through the second go-round. He remembered these visits from his childhood; he remembered these visits from the other side of the table (the last one had only been a few months ago); and now he was back on the other side of table again.

 

“That’s fine.” Jamie tried to sound neutral. He had forgotten, somewhat, how intimidating these visits could be. Here was someone who had come to pry into his life, and though she had good intentions, bad outcomes were as likely as good no matter the intention. He’d been moved from one home to another as a kid when he didn’t want to go. He was never told the reasons. He always wondered if it was because he said something he shouldn’t have, and how his life may have turned out differently had he stayed. Maybe he would have been adopted; maybe he never would have wound up in a group home ten years later.

 

“So, I’m going to talk with Rebecca and Amanda first, and then you and I will talk. Is that alright?” The question was for all of them. Jamie knew why: so that if the bigs told any lies, Jamie might say something to make those lies apparent. He looked at Becky and Amanda, who were doing their best to look calm, unconcerned, and unresentful. They knew they had no reason not be those things, but there it was anyway.

 

“Sounds good to us,” Becky said.

 

“I’ll go get Jamie situated,” Amanda offered. She quickly made him a bottle of water; why a bottle, she couldn’t exactly be sure. She unbuckled him and carried him to the living room. She wasn’t sure if she just send him to his own room. Would that be leaving him unsupervised if she didn’t put him in his crib?

 

She put him in his playpen. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to hang out in here. You got what you need?” He had a blanket and his coloring book.

 

“May I have my bear?” He knew he didn’t need to feel nervous or resentful either, but her did. He wanted his bear right then.

 

“Sure.” She was back in a moment with the bear. Before leaving him, she bent over into the playpen to kiss the top of his head, then turned to go back to the kitchen.

 

“Manda?” She stopped and turned. “It’s okay. Promise.”

 

She walked back to the playpen and whispered, “It’s my job to make you feel safe, remember?”

 

“Yeah, but I’ve done this before.” Another kiss, and Amanda went back.

 

“Sorry,” she said as she closed the pocket door, “He wanted his bear.”

 

“Not a problem. Your mom and me were just making small talk. So, why don’t you start just by telling me how things have gone since Jamie got here.”

 

Becky led the discussion with Amanda chiming in. They talked about his moments waking up, the first couple of days, him telling them about himself. Their first day out, the doctor visit, the little bumps those entailed, making sure to downplay Jamie’s outbursts but also sticking up for him.

 

They talked about the day at the beach; Becky wasn’t sure how to handle that, remembering the reaction of the woman on the beach when Jamie had swam on his own. She elided the truth. Becky talked about what a good swimmer he was; she left out the part about how far out he’d gone, and alone.

 

They talked about the park visits, how Jamie played with Rosie and let the slower kids win. Becky did mention the bigoted woman and how she had decided not to tell Jamie about her. She talked about her preparations for daycare.

 

“Thank you, both. That’s all very helpful. Can you tell me more about Jamie himself? What he’s like?”

 

Sure, Becky thought, ask the most complicated question you possibly could.

 

Becky tried to answer first. “I guess, first, he’s a very old soul. It surprises you sometimes, the things he says, a lot of wisdom, little or not. I love that about him; I’d hate to see him lose that, even though I do want him to be a little more … carefree. I think that’s why he’s … very … independent minded. He’s not regressed, as you know, so he … he needs to be treated appropriately for a little who has all his … faculties.”

 

Amanda tried to explain better. “Like when the nurse treated him like he wasn’t even there, Jamie let her know he was there. He doesn’t like being talked to as though he were regressed, and he hates being treated like it.”

 

“But he’s accepted a lot of things that come naturally to regressed littles,” Becky explained, “Like he loves taking a bottle from either of us, and he does use his pacifier when he wants to. He’s virtually attached to his teddy bear half the day. He’s really starting to open up and embrace his littleness.”

 

“He really is just the sweetest, sweetest boy. If you show him you respect him and care about him, he’ll dive right into your lap. He’s my snuggle buddy.” Amanda’s voice made it clear how much she meant every word. Even the last part, though she knew it wasn’t true last night, not that she’d tell Marsha.

 

“His case worker on the other side mentioned some emotional issues. How is that coming?”

 

Amanda felt most ready to answer that, and Becky thought so, too. “A lot of that has to do with his background. He grew up without a family, as you probably know, and he carries a lot of guilt about people he feels he’s failed. When he first arrived, he was … it was all very fresh. The leaving only made him feel guiltier. He got sad very easily, and he still does cry easily. He … I wouldn’t say he has anger management issues; he does have some anger, mostly with himself.”

 

Amanda paused and considered. “Right now he’s doing really well. He hasn’t talked about that stuff in a while. He’s been doing a really good job of staying calm and thinking through his words and actions when he gets angry; I’d even say he doesn’t get angry at others very often. I think that was more of an adjustment issue, suddenly having the freedom to let negative emotions out that he had to hold in before.”

 

“So you think he’s getting better,” Marsha asked

 

Amanda nodded a few times, looking but not focusing on the table as she started to answer. “I think he’s getting better at managing those things. I think a lot of that has to do with so much newness in his life he doesn’t have to deal with those memories and feelings. So we know they haven’t gone anywhere … and when things settle down a lot of that will probably come back to the surface.”

 

“Rebecca, anything to add?”

 

“No. I think Amanda covered that very well.”

 

Marsha nodded. “How do you plan to address that?”

 

Becky and Amanda had only talked a little bit about this. “We want to get him settled in day care and get him into that routine. Then in a little bit we’re going to take him to see a therapist. We’ve been looking, but it’s hard to find one who has experience with unregressed littles.”

 

Amanda added, “And we make sure he knows that he can tell us anything, and we’ll listen, and that we love him no matter what. And we show it every way we can.” Her eyes got misty.

 

Becky took over, “Very slowly, we’re helping him discover who he really is. We think the more he can learn to trust us and depend on us, the easier it will be for him to let go of some of those negative emotions.”

 

“But we’re moving at his pace,” Amanda added. “We’re not going to force anything on him. We want him to grow into his … “littlehood” his own way and at his own pace.” But that’s not what I did when I didn’t tell mom he can control his functions, she thought. She felt guilty; she hadn’t last night.

 

“Thank you for all that,” Marsha said. “I think I’m ready to talk to Jamie, unless there’s anything else you want to tell me.”

 

Becky shrugged and Amanda nodded. “I think that’s everything.”

 

“Great.” Marsh folded the tablet she’d been taking notes on. “If it’s alright with you, I’ll talk to Jamie in his room.”

 

“Of course. He’s in his playpen in the living room, and his room is down the hall to the right.”

 

Becky had a sudden thought. “I’m so sorry; I have no manners today. Can we get you anything? Glass of water?” Map back to where your own business is, Becky said to herself. She knew that wasn’t fair. Jamie was his business, and she knew that was the right thing, in fact the only way this could be done safely without Itali risking turning into one of the countries where littles could be so badly mistreated, tortured even.

 

“No, thank you very much. I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me?” Becky and Amada stood, and Marsha went to the living room.

 

“How do you think that went,” Becky asked in a hushed tone.

 

“I don’t know. I hope we didn’t make him sound like some angry basket case.”

 

“I think it’s probably good to show we know he has his struggles and we’re helping him through them.”

 

“Yeah. Still. I just hope the part she heard most was how much we love him and what a sweet boy he is.”

 

Jamie worked on his coloring book and thought back on his experience with these things, from both sides. He knew parents and foster parents sometimes lied; sometimes to hide something they rightly feared becoming known, more often because they were afraid of something innocent being misinterpreted or taken out of context. He knew kids sometimes lied; sometimes because they were afraid of the parents or foster parents, more often because they had stability in their lives and didn’t want to risk it. He’d had that mentality sometimes: this isn’t perfect, maybe not even good, but it’s the devil you know. Jamie always hoped he’d found out the malicious liars, but it was, by definition, something he could not know. Right now, his instinct was to say anything that would maintain the stability he had worked so hard for.

 

Marsha appeared above the playpen. Twelve feet tall and quiet like an upside down mouse, he mused. “Hey, Jamie. You ready for us to talk?”

 

He sighed quietly. “Yeah.” Let’s do this, he thought.

 

“What did you draw there?” He showed her his coloring book. “Wow! Such a good job staying inside the lines.” He’d have taken umbrage at the implication, but the book was so intricate and the cells so small, it was difficult to stay inside the lines. She picked him up, and he managed to snag his bear. He expected to be put down, but instead she carried him on her hip to his room and patted his diaper to check it. Ya know, he thought, I wouldn’t carry you without asking first, or touch your butt. Instead of pouting, he put on his I’m-so-happy-to-be-here-don’t-make-me-leave face.

 

In his room, he sat in his recliner and she sat in the rocking chair. They went through the same list of questions he had gone through so many times before. They might as well have read from the same textbooks in graduate school. He knew what she was going to ask. His answers were honest, but he downplayed the rough bits. As to how he was feeling emotionally, his simply answered “better.” Did he want to elaborate on that? “No.” For a woman who hadn’t made the best first impression and been awfully presumptuous in picking him up like that, she talked to him now like the unregressed little he was.

 

“Jamie, my next two questions, I want you to answer especially truthfully. And remember, I’m just here today to get information, okay?” He nodded, not that the implication of “today” was lost on him.

 

“How do you feel about Rebecca?”

 

He took a deep breath. “We had a bit of a rocky start. She and I didn’t exactly understand each other at first. Her instinct was to … treat me more like a typical little. I mean, I’ve never doubted that she loves me; she’s always done what she thought would keep me safe and make me happy. And I do feel safe with her. And she makes me happy. I’m glad we found each other.” He msiled and nodded to no one, just think of serendipity, and the work Cheryl had put into bringing them together, and Amanda’s desire to help someone she saw in need of help.

 

“It was just at first, a little too little, I guess. But that’s gotten much better. We’re on the same page now. And she really stands up for me now, if anyone makes the same mistake she made at first.”

 

“What do you think helped her to change her perspective on you?”

 

“Amanda.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“I just know. Amanda got me pretty much from the start. She’s been my advocate all along. I think she and Becky have had a couple long talks that helped Becky see me more for who I am.”

 

“Tell me more about Amanda.”

 

He smiled and held in a single laugh. “She’s …” His smile faded, and his eyes felt just a little wet. “I’d be lost without her. She’s … always listened to me; always been kind to me; always reassured me. She’s … she’s been right about everything so far. When I don’t understand things, or when I’ve gotten upset, she’s taught me … and helped me deal with my feelings, and taught me how to deal with them next time.” He paused.

 

“She sounds like quite a big sister.”

 

Jamie didn’t hear her. “That first night here …” It was a terrible and wonderful memory. How deeply he remembered it. He took back the moment and heard his own sobbing and whimpers; he felt the rocking motion; he felt the warmth of her again; he remembered each word; he remembered that, in the dark, she had made him feel safe and loved; he remembered the softness of her on his cheek and the strong grip of her arms holding him as though she’d never let him go, not even after she opened her arms; he felt her tear-wet shirt; he remembered her smell; he remembered her kiss.

 

His voice broke, and he fought to hold in his tears. “She … I couldn’t be here without her. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. Not for a minute.”

 

He didn’t say anything for several seconds, and Marsha didn’t interject. “She and Becky – they’re a team. I need both of them … I like needing both of them. We’re a team.”

 

Marsha made sure he was finished. “You love them.”

 

Jamie smiled and sat back up, sniffing back a runny nose and not too thoroughly wiping an eye. “Yes. Both of them. Very much.”

 

“We can go back out, unless there’s anything else you want to say.”

 

“No. Thank you.”

 

They stood to go back to the kitchen.

 

“What’s that on your wall?” She was looking at the finger board.

 

“Oh, that’s a puzzle Amanda hung there.”

 

“How does it work?”

 

“Ya know, I haven’t solved it yet.” So one lie.

 

Jamie walked back to the kitchen with Marsha, who smiled reassuringly and told them they’d be very pleased with her report.

 

Becky saw her to the door. In the kitchen alone with Amanda, Jamie, a little sheepishly, tugged on her pants for her attention, and she smiled one of her biggest smiles as she picked up and hugged him tight. “I missed you,” she said.

 

“I didn’t go anywhere.”

 

“You went far enough. I’m sorry, about … you know. I should have said something when I first figured it out.”

 

“I forgive you. I know why you didn’t.” He left his head on her shoulder; she smelled the same way she had that first night.

 

“Manda?”

 

“Yeah, buddy?”

 

“I love you.”

 

“Oh. I love you, too.”

 

Becky came back to the kitchen and found her two favorite people teary eyed. “What’s wrong?”

 

Amanda passed Jamie to her mom, and Jamie put his head down on her shoulder to. As she gently placed him Becky’s arms, Amanda said, “Jamie was something he wants to say to you.”

 

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” She rubbed his back, amused at what seemed his sudden shyness.

 

“I love you, Mom.”

Jamie’s two favorite people had tears in their eyes. So did he.

 

They were making a habit of teary eyes, a risk Becky and Amanda accepted. It’s just the risk you take when you decide to share your home and heart with a little.

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Cute chapter and I almost feel like Amanda is a little jealous of him wearing diapers or being taken care of. But that kind of makes sense as she is a young adult. Nice little twist

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On 3/11/2019 at 12:48 AM, Author_Alex said:

I’m glad it makes you happy. Writing it makes me happy, too.

Happy to hear that, and i hope that Jamie and Becky can finally be the baby and mommy , and he giving up to those boring diapers to use proper pampers herhheheheeh

 

You really know how to make me emotionally! Wonderful chapter so happy for baby and mommy 

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Short tonight. Big chapters ahead, though.

_______________________________________________

Chapter 20

 

 

The three of them opted to stay in all day instead of go out. They were content just to be in each other’s company. While Jamie was curious what Amanda and Becky had said, as they were about what he had said, by silent agreement they didn’t ask or volunteer. Marsha had been a mirror, and their obvious relief and happiness and renewed affection in the wake of reflecting on each other was enough to tell each of them that it had been a good day.

 

When the three of them weren’t together, Jamie wandered between them, seeing what Amanda was doing and what Mom was doing. Each time, Jamie used the word, it made him a little giddy, and it made her feel that good kind of heartache.

 

Amanda behaved as though she’d been starved for affection in the few hours when Jamie wasn’t hanging on her, and whenever he drew close she grabbed him or picked him up or rough housed with him. When it came time for his afternoon nap, she gave him the purest expression for her physical affection for him, holding him on her chest for nearly an hour and half as he slept.

 

Jamie still didn’t know what to think about Amanda’s revelation. He was done feeling upset with her, but he still didn’t know how to go about deciding whether to continue to go along with it or not. His instinct was not to. But the intimate alone time he spent with her, and with Mom, were important to him; he wasn’t sure if those times could be replicated. He never felt more vulnerable than in those moments; he was more open during those times because of it, and they in turn met his vulnerability with tenderness. It deepened the trust he had in them and gave Becky and Amanda the warmhearted satisfaction of getting to take care of him.

 

 

Trust, Jamie thought. Trust is what everyone has been saying to me for over half a year. This took trust, so much of it, and now to continue would require more. It wasn’t just trust he wasn’t sure he felt. It was trust and more: if he trusted Amanda was right and his staying in diapers would help him, he gave up not just the trust but independence, comfort, and yes, some dignity. And it wouldn’t just be given up to them, but to all the bigs in whose care he would be placed, and soon.

 

As much as he tried to linger in the moment of the day, he couldn’t help but feel a sunset of sorts. He recollected the end of summer in his youth; it wasn’t real until after a few weeks of being back in school. It would come to him of an evening in September with the first chill air hinting at the fall. In a breeze or in the scent of the wind, it augured autumn, and with the fading summer evening light, weaker by the day, it marked a transition from one time to another.

 

In the days before seeing the transition, a curtain had been falling a little more each day, so slow as to go unnoticed. But once noticed, the curtain closed the last few inches to the stage near at once, cutting off the light. The old light, in which everything was illuminated so clearly, was in the past; the new light, which hid much of the future in its glare, was now; in between the lights, a curtain no one had asked to close.

 

Childhood. Summertime. Love. Curtains fall with the end of these, and once fallen, the objectivity of time becomes irrelevant. There is before the curtain. There is after the curtain. The before always seems impossibly far away. You think you can pass through, go back; it is only thread, after all, thin as silk. You cannot.

 

The new light off the silk creates illusions of idyll. But touch the curtain, and the smallest turn of fabric around a fingertip bends the light, and the illusion disappears. Try to pull the curtain back, and it will not move.

 

Where Jamie came from was already behind a curtain. He’d lost track of the time. He had only a vague sense of how long he’d been in his new world. He rarely saw the sun rise or set; he didn’t have or need a calendar or a watch. He lived his own rhythm. But now he sensed another curtain falling, or at least feared it. These last few weeks – an idyll, perhaps, and now, maybe, another curtain.

 

It wasn’t that Jaime feared day care. He feared change. He liked so much where he was right now. He liked so much how he spent his days. He liked so much who he was with. Spending part of his day elsewhere, doing something else with someone else – it wasn’t just that he feared he wouldn’t like those things. He feared that those would change what he had. Would the autumn bring with it the end of the summer?

 

He tried not to think about it, to stop looking for the curtain and enjoy the light he had right now.

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Jamie (née Eric) continues to adjust to his new home and family. Being unregressed has created challenges for Jamie in how others relate to him, and in turn how he relates to others, often in anger. However, Rebecca and Amanda continue to work with him to control these negative emotions and report he is making progress.

 

 

 

The emotional struggles Jamie’s first case worker observed are still present. They are dormant at the moment likely due to the distractions of his new surroundings. I and his guardians believe these will resurface one Jamie’s routine becomes normalized. Rebecca is searching for a therapist for Jamie.

 

 

 

Overall, the new Webb family has formed strong attachments to one another. Becky and Amanda both report and exhibit love for Jamie. Amanda is especially close to Jamie, as is he to her. The two of them, as Jamie’s previous case worker observed when first meeting Amanda, do “belong together. Jamie told me he loved them both “very much.”

 

Cheryl read the same few lines of the report over and over. The rest was not important. All that mattered was that Jamie, for the time being, was happy and loved and loved in turn. No guilt. Regret, maybe. Longing, definitely. She could live with that until her visit. She opened her calendar.

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1 hour ago, Author_Alex said:

Short tonight. Big chapters ahead, though.

Jamie (née Eric) continues to adjust to his new home and family. Being unregressed has created challenges for Jamie in how others relate to him, and in turn how he relates to others, often in anger. However, Rebecca and Amanda continue to work with him to control these negative emotions and report he is making progress.

 

 

 

The emotional struggles Jamie’s first case worker observed are still present. They are dormant at the moment likely due to the distractions of his new surroundings. I and his guardians believe these will resurface one Jamie’s routine becomes normalized. Rebecca is searching for a therapist for Jamie.

 

 

 

Overall, the new Webb family has formed strong attachments to one another. Becky and Amanda both report and exhibit love for Jamie. Amanda is especially close to Jamie, as is he to her. The two of them, as Jamie’s previous case worker observed when first meeting Amanda, do “belong together. Jamie told me he loved them both “very much.”

 

Cheryl read the same few lines of the report over and over. The rest was not important. All that mattered was that Jamie, for the time being, was happy and loved and loved in turn. No guilt. Regret, maybe. Longing, definitely. She could live with that until her visit. She opened her calendar.

Just all the feels...

 

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I'm excited about this chapter and the next several. New characters on the way. New experiences. Makes me wish I was starting daycare (instead of setting this down now to send a work email at a quarter to 11pm.)

_________________________________________________

Chapter 21, Part 1

 

The next day was spent in preparation. Becky had considered throwing an end-of-summer party, but she decided not to. She didn’t want it to seem like a momentous event. Just another day, followed by another and another. The logic – live today there will be a next not so different – made sense to her, and worried making a big deal out of it would only make the day to follow more daunting for Jamie, and for herself.

 

By late afternoon, Becky and Amanda turned to getting themselves ready. Jamie crawled up the steps, still the easiest way given how tall and ride each riser was, and went into Amanda’s room, where she was packing her backpack.

 

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

 

“Nothing.” She picked him up and placed him on her bed. It was one of his favorite places. He grabbed a pillow, big enough to be a body pillow for him, and pulled it under his chin.

 

“Nothing at all? Did you cease to exist for a moment and then come back? Because I bet we could make a lot of money doing that on street corners.” She was putting pens in the little loops in the front pocket of her bag. She had her headphones, a bottle of some medicine, and a phone charger in there. When her bad joke didn’t even get a dismissive eye roll, she knew something was up. She put her bag on the floor and laid down next to Jamie, her face to his, and stroked his hair. “C’mon. There’s nothing you can’t tell you Big sister.”

 

“I won’t know anybody.”

 

“Not right when you get there, but by the end of the day you’ll know lots of people.”

 

“But what if none of them want to be my friend?”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“Because …” Eric always had grappled with this. He was too shy to approach people; too awkward to make small talk; too awkward to flirt. He’d mad exactly one friend in college, and they’d lost touch. He’d dated one woman, and it didn’t last long. And that was a social peak of his life. In a work setting, he could turn on the professional charm; he was somebody there, not just some random person but someone with expertise and skills. He didn’t have to make small talk; he didn’t have feel shy. But he never made friends with his coworkers.

 

“I don’t … I never learned how to make friends, as an adult. Not really. I guess Cheryl was the first friend I’d made in almost ten years.” And he’d walked away from that.

 

Amanda edged closer. “I’m your friend. Mom is your friend. Jane is your friend. Laurie and Danny are your friends. Mel is your friend. Donna desperately wants to be your friend.”

 

“They don’t count,” Jamie said before realizing what he was saying. “I mean, bigs don’t count. Bigs are going to be friends with any little.” It had been that way for Jamie as a kid. He was friends with more teachers than peers. Even as an adult, he had made a strong social connection to his boss than the people his own age.

 

“Rosie is your friend. Any one of those littles you play tag with would be your friend.” True Jamie knew, but it was still somehow different. He’d been introduced to Rosie. He was popular in the game of tag because he was the best at it, a lot bar considering how many of the little velcro shoes kept falling off. He wouldn’t be the best at everything at daycare. He’d just be the new kid.

 

“I’ll be the new kid. Everybody will know each other but me.” Everybody hates the new kid, at least at first, because they’re an outsider. The group protects its own by driving away the other; adults, school kids, chimpanzees, even birds.

 

“You won’t be the only new kid. And besides, you have a big advantage.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

“You aren’t regressed.” Jamie didn’t think that was an advantage. He thought it would be easier if here regressed, not as aware and with lower inhibitions. There’s a thought, Jamie said to himself, I need a few margaritas.

 

“You get to be the cool little, the one who knows stuff. The one who can do more stuff.”

 

“I just think that makes me …” He paused.

 

“What?”

 

“I just think that makes me pathetic.”

 

Not the word Amanda was expecting. She wanted to embrace him, but she knew he needed space to talk about these feelings. And he need to talk about them; she couldn’t make them go away for him.

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

“All the regressed ones … they need that kind of care and attention. I’m a grown man just being treated that way.” He shook his head. “Even if bigs don’t judge me for that, other littles will.”

 

Now she could pick him up. He didn’t resist. He was chest down on top of her with her arms crossed around his waist. “Do you trust me, Jamie.”

 

He sensed a lecture coming. “Yes. You know that.”

 

“And you know that I’d never do anything to hurt your feelings?”

 

“Never.”

 

“I think that Eric was bad at making friends. I think Jamie is great at making friends, especially little friends. Has any little you’ve met not been nice to you?”

 

“Well, no, but...”

 

“And do you know why? Because you’re so nice to them. You help them have fun. They look up to you.”

 

This next part was the harder part, something Amanda and Becky both said in so many words but that Jamie hadn’t heard, or at least not caught the nuance. She wasn’t sure if he would take it the way it was intended.

 

“And Jamie, those other littles get treated that way because they need to be, and they need to be because they’re littles. You … no one treats as though you were a little. They treat you the way they do because you are a little, too. No little will judge you for being a little; no big will judge you for it, and if someone does, fuck ‘em.”

 

Jaime looked up, surprised. “I’m allowed,” Amanda said, “But don’t tell Mom. The point I’m trying to make, and not doing a good job of it, is you be you. I love that person; Mom does, too. This,” she took his head in her hands and kissed him on the forehead, “is who you are. It’s not pretend. It’s who you are. Do you believe that?”

 

Still looking downtrodden, Jamie didn’t have the energy to say yes just to make her happy. “I want to.”

 

Amanda sighed. “C’mon.” She stood up from the bed and took him with her to the mirror on the closet door. She pointed to her reflection. “Who is that?”

 

Jamie rolled his eyes. “That’s you.”

 

Amanda pointed to Jamie’s reflection. “Who is that?”

 

He rolled his eyes again, impatient. “That’s me.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“Jamie.” The point was obvious. He didn’t need a locker room pep talk.

 

“You’re sure? You’re sure that’s Jamie? It’s not Eric?” Jamie felt like he walked into that.

 

“Eric would get judged for being treated like a little. Jamie is a little.” Amanda turned away from the mirror and looked at Jamie face to face. “Eric doesn’t live here, and you shouldn’t compare yourself to Eric. I love you, Jamie. I met Eric; I liked Eric; I even loved Eric. But you, Jamie, shine so much brighter, and everyone who meets you sees it.

 

It’s okay to be Jamie; it’s okay to need the love and attention and care that Eric didn’t. Eric even knew he needed it, and that’s why he came here. You be Jamie, and don’t ever, ever, ever be ashamed of it.”

 

She paused and looked at him. Over the top, perhaps. A little too much like a school counselor giving a group talk on bullying. But she meant every word. If Jamie kept comparing himself to Eric, he’d never get past thinking of his new self as an affectation or of the changes in his life as temporary and pretend. This was Jamie’s life; there was nothing pretend or temporary about how Jamie and Amanda and Becky felt about one another. This was life at its top. There was so much to love and like in Eric. Yet Jaime liked Jamie more; Amanda and Becky liked Jamie more; and so would everyone. Amanda was sure of it.

 

Jamie wanted to just feel that way; to know it and feel it, to will himself to feel it. Maybe he could later, if he tried, if enough other people could show how much Jamie was worth loving. Love justifies us; Jamie the little knew that, even if not consciously. “I’ll try.”

 

Amanda figured that was the best answer she could get today. It would just take time and love until Jamie only saw Jamie, only felt like Jamie, was wholly comfortable being Jamie and being seen and treated like Jamie.

 

“That’s my good boy,” Amanda said. She hugged him tight, part reward and part she wanted to. She always wanted to.

 

“Manda? I’m still scared.”

 

“I know you are, buddy.” She kissed him again. I’m scared for you, too, she thought, but she’d never say it to him. “Let’s go pack your bag for tomorrow.” She carried him downstairs to his room, talking along the way.

 

“May I take my bear?”

 

“Yes. You may have to share it with others, though.”

 

Big head shake. “No way.” Never mind, not happening.

 

“You don’t want to share your bear?”

 

“No.” Hell no! Regressed littles and my bear? Why not just pour juice on it, let it ferment in the sun for a few days, and run it over with the lawn mower?

 

“Well, that ruins my plan.”

 

“What plan?”

 

“I was going to ask if I could borrow your bear.”

 

“What for?” Jamie was suspicious. What did she want with his bear?

 

“I was going to ask if I could sleep with your bear tonight. Do you think I could if you came, too?”

 

Jamie loved that idea very much. Very much.

 

“I’d like that.” He smiled. She sometimes took a nap with him. How good it felt to have her warm body against his and her protecting harms over him.

 

They reached Jamie’s room and she set him on the changing table while she packed his bag.

 

“And you know, Jamie, I’m a little scared, too.”

 

“About me going to daycare?”

 

“No, about me going back to school.”

 

“Why?” It wasn’t her first year of school.

 

“Because it’s a new year.” She put two whole outfits into his bag, plus enough diapers for the week, the coloring book he hadn’t started yet, his own bottle and formula, his pacifier, and a book she got for him at the library.

 

“I think you’ll do fine.”

 

“Probably be … buuuut, it might make me feel better if … nah, never mind.”

 

“What? Tell me.”

 

“Well, if you promise to keep an open mind, can I take your bear to school with me tomorrow, to protect me? Just in case?”

 

A conundrum. What if something happened to his bear? But he did trust Amanda more than anyone. And if it would help her … “You’d just carry my bear around all day?”

 

“I’d keep him in my backpack.”

 

“But it’s dark in there. And how will he breathe?”

 

“I’ll leave the zipper open a little. And if he gets hungry, there’s a bunch of places on campus. What does he eat?”

 

“Um … salmon.”

 

“Then he’ll love the sushi place. Do you think he can make it all the way through class without needing the bathroom?”

 

“Oh, he has a very strong bladder. He hasn’t peed once since I’ve met him. Been holding it the entire time.” Amanda lost her poker face; he was too cute and too funny.

 

“Then it’s decided. It’ll be good to have someone to take notes for me, too, in case I decide I need a nap.” She zipped up his bag. “I think that’s everything. Wadduya want to do now?

 

“What’s Mom up to?”

 

“Why don’t we go find out?”

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Really liked this last chapter , how you show Jamie anxieties and Amanda comforting him, really curious to see next part

ps by the Way I think you skip a chapter because your last chapter posted is 21 part 1 and not 22 (like the post say )

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