24/7 startups, and unexpected pitfalls?

[~Brian~]

11 minutes ago, FretaBWet said:

Merry Christmas @Little Sherri! You are inspirational for many of us here.

Hugs,

Freta

@FretaBWet

I would agree: now that @Little Sherri has been able to enjoy his pajamas and the fact that he was able to wear a diaper without worrying about it being seen, that's a pretty big thing so I congratulate him! Now just enjoy yourself and do what you normally do like you have been doing, and it is normal!

over the past three years, I have come full circle with this. I used to be afraid to do what I normally would do now, but I'm not afraid of it anymore. I figured that The best thing is to be myself and not worry about things, because stress is something that we don't need a lot of in our lives period of course we can have some stress in our lives, because that's normal, but stressing about the little stuff or stuff that really isn't that is nothing to worry yourself over, because in the end it's not really worth all of the worry and all of the heartache, all you have to do is just let yourself go and just do everything that you would normally do on a regular day, and just be the person you are.

Of course we have to make sure that we are doing it responsibly and that we are doing it appropriately, but because I can I can finally the person I want to be like I have been in the past, I am a lot Happier and I don't have to worry so much. I just wish it wasn't so damn cold outside! anybody got a huge glass of apple cider or maybe A big cup of hot cocoa?

Merry Christmas!

Brian

[BabyJilly_S]

Merry Christmas ! ?

[oznl]

Yep Merry Christmas although over here, it's all about the post-boxing-day hangover: food everywhere and 6" of cardboard and shredded paper on every floor.  Today is my official "CBA" day.  I plan to do nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Nothing.

Hopefully it's stopped being minus one zillion degrees over there.  Here remains unusually cool (well, by our standards, about 28C), partly cloudy with persistent nuisance showers.  We've had Groundhog-day Christmas weather since the start of December and no sign of it giving up soon.

[Little Sherri]

Happy New Year, everyone! I'm back from my trip to the Caribbean. As a parting gift, I got food poisoning on my last day (I assume, or it might be an enteric virus), and had to white-knuckle the flight back. I was wearing a diaper, but no diaper could contain the evil that had been visited upon me, so I popped Imodium like they were M&M's and consumed nothing but water for 24 hours, somehow making it back. 

I managed to side-step the body scanner at the airport on the way out again - I was in line for it, but then, the X-ray machine locked up and they moved our entire line over to another area, which had a metal detector instead of a body scanner. Although my anxiety about that has diminished considerably, since I've now been through one a couple of times, with minimal issues. But I was travelling with my family so I really didn't want to get the cut-eye from my wife if they delayed us while I was taken over to secondary inspection to verify that I wasn't packing explosives or contraband in my plastic underpants. I'm curious as to how that would go down - would they just ask what it was and then lock eyes and say "Sorry, have a good day", or would they want me to show it to them? Perish the thought. 

The airport down there had no invasive technology on display, just metal detectors and drug interdiction dogs. The dogs had no interest in my underwear. 

It was really nice to go on vacation with the family and not have to worry about maintaining James Bond levels of secrecy about being in diapers. I didn't gratuitously flaunt them, obviously, but, "Hey, dad, can I get the Tide stick out of your suitcase?" wasn't met with "NO! I'll get it. You just have to leave the room first." 

The trash cans in the room were unusually big and lined with black bags, so I took to depositing nappies there, and just tipped generously. I was only using around three a day, anyway, because we spent a lot of the time by the beach or the pool. 

In terms of managing that, I enacted the protocol I mentioned here previously - I decided that when I first got there, I'd frolic in the ocean or the pool, and then, the latter part of the day was for reading and lounging. I had a pair of shorts that looked like a bathing suit, more or less, so I would put my actual swimwear on the balcony to dry around mid-afternoon, and then put a Rearz Active Air (cloth-backed but reasonably reliable) on under the pseudo-bathing suit and commence lounging. 

I had one fail, however - my younger daughter wanted to learn how to windsurf, so we signed her up for a lesson, which began essentially on the shore, and then moved into the water. The very patient resort employee who was helping her get started, had his hands full with a couple of other neophytes, so I went over and stood knee-deep in the ocean, steadying her board while she figured out the sail and where to put her feet. Then, we moved out a little further, and the ocean was licking at my thighs, and I started thinking that I was making a mistake, going into the water with a diaper on... and sure enough, a big swell came rolling in, and then I was standing up to my waist in the ocean for a moment. 

And then again, and then again, and then the cadence dropped off, and I was afraid to look down at myself, because I felt like my mid-section might now be visible from space. Eventually the guy took her out into deeper water and I was relieved of my duty, and then I squish-squish-squished my way back over to our lounge chairs, my diaper feeling like it weighed 5 lbs. I went over to my wife and asked "How obvious is this?", and she said "You might want to change."

I sat down in the chair and weighed my options... I didn't want to cross the resort and maybe have to say hi to the couple we'd had drinks with and those other people from Canada, and the family whose kids played Frisbee with my kids in the pool, etc, while wearing a diaper that was at max capacity under thin shorts. So, I made my way over to the washrooms by the beach and took the diaper off, deciding to go commando back to our room to get another one on. 

When I took it off, it wasn't as bad as I'd thought it was. The diaper was quite wet, but, only the edges and the top at the back were truly saturated, and most of the front. There was actually still a dry section in seat and upper middle rear. I guess the same gathers that keep liquid from rapidly egressing also keep liquid from rapidly ingressing. Kudos, Rearz. 

I saw a mildly unfortunate scene by the pool one day - there was a kid, a boy who looked around 6 or 7, swimming with a bunch of other kids, and then his parents called him out of the pool because they were going to go over to the snack bar. He came walking over, and his dad wrapped a towel around him, and then his mom pulled his bathing suit down under the towel, and held a pull-up open for him to step into. He started wailing and shaking his head, so the dad lifted him up and she slid the pull-up on to him, and the towel got dropped and then he was just standing there in his pull-up. Eventually they handed him shorts, which he pulled on, and then stood there, still sniffling. 

I felt badly for him because obviously he felt bad about being put in a pull-up, but if he hadn't started wailing, it's likely that nobody would have noticed, whereas once he screamed, everyone was looking over. Someone somewhere has made him feel bad about wearing diapers - likely his peers, I guess. Hopefully not his parents. If he wasn't so self-conscious about it, he'd have been a lot better off, was my thought. It's unfortunate that kids get burdened with shame and embarrassment for needing protection. Perhaps my background makes me overthink these things, but I felt for that kid.

I remembered having a diaper put on me in the women's changeroom at a public pool when I was around that age, and being ordered to keep my eyes closed, because of course it was a room full of women in various states of undress. My mom would never have done that to me beside the pool or out in the parking lot, because that was in public... but apparently a room full of strange women and girls didn't count as "public", maybe because they were also changing, so we all had "equivalent" vulnerability... however I felt like I'd been stripped down and diapered in a public square. I also got smacked on the cheek for opening my eyes when my mom pushed me into a reclining position on a bench - I hadn't realized what was in the cards, because usually we got a changing stall, but not that day. 

[Little Sherri]

I posted the following in response to the question: "What was the first month of going 24/7 like?"

I did some digging in this thread, so I thought that I'd transfer my response here, in service to keeping all of "this" more or less in one place, because I found it interesting to ponder, at this, the ~3.75 year mark. The person who posted the question was primarily asking about if people had noted any physical "symptoms" after a month in diapers, but I expanded on that a bit, as I'm prone to do. 

 

Interesting question. I had to go back and read my posts from back then to refamiliarize myself with what it was like in my first month, since it's been a bit more than 3.5 years. What I was writing about, when I went *80* (80!) pages back in time on my thread, was primarily autobiographical/historical, and, about first-time jitters around things like going on a business trip in diapers, or having my in-laws over for the weekend and feeling self-conscious about wearing diapers around them (in secret). In fact, back at that point in my "Captain's Log", I hadn't told my wife about it yet, so other than when I had the house to myself, or when I was in hotel rooms, I had no venue and no moment when I could just relax about my baby pants. I was sleeping in diapers and wearing bulky oversized track pants that I didn't enjoy, and I usually "waited out" my wife falling asleep, via watching late shows downstairs, so that I could sleep without the damned things on (I like sleeping in just a diaper). But, I had them at the ready beside my bed, in case the dog started throwing up or the smoke alarm went off or a thunderstorm caused my younger daughter to seek refuge in our room. 

In terms of side-effects, other than extreme secrecy and packing up the garbage like I was concealing a body, I hadn't had any of note yet. I was in he very early days of peeing freely whenever I needed to, and trying not to forget to do that when I was concentrating on something else (driving, work, riveting TV show), because I'd discerned a long time ago that diapers deal better with frequent minor events than with infrequent deluges. I didn't write about it at the time as far as I can see from my cursory overview, but I recall still getting used to wetting in uncommon positions - while driving, standing, walking, etc.

I developed a technique for relaxing down there: I'd been wearing diapers to bed (in secret) for maybe 9 months or so prior to going 24/7, and my "happy place" was wetting while lying in bed, sucking on a pacifier or (rarely) a bottle, and I never had any problem wetting under those circumstances, so I'd actually pantomime sucking on something if I felt I need to go but I was having to push, rather than just relax, say, while standing in line at the supermarket or whatever. It worked. 

I was not experiencing any unusual urgency and my range had not notably declined yet. I wasn't yet wetting the bed with any frequency and I could definitely have switched back to underwear (which I still had) at any point that early in the game with no consequences other than regret. Perhaps my greatest concern, other than being caught out by some circumstance beyond my control, such as my wife searching the garbage for some misplaced item and coming up with a dozen gloriously printed diapers, was figuring out how to actually GET gloriously printed diapers with no financial traceability. Rearz had had a storefront in Waterloo, and I used to buy them in cash there, so there were no purchases from "Big Baby Diaper Company" showing up on our credit cards, the statements for which were often reviewed by my wife. 

There were and are no issues in the #2 control department, as I don't do that in my diapers 95% of the time. Although I will say that there has been a mildly-concerning generalization taking place at night on so-far exceedingly rare occasions, where my "just go ahead and do it" approach to wetting while in bed has had me waking up to a near-launch of a scud, I think because of my laisse faire approach to the #1 department. I have these dreams where I have to go, and dream-me says to his dream-self, hey, don't worry about it, you're wearing a diaper... and then alarms go off in the control room and I wake up. I don't mind that I'm drifting unreliably into bedwetting, but I do not want to become a bed-crapper. 

When Rearz closed that store, I had a decent stock built up, but, remember, I had to hide them from my family, and I only had so much storage in the ceiling of my basement, for example. So, I was wearing L/XL Goodnites pull-ups sometimes (that I could squeeze into them was an engineering marvel), with a size 7 diaper stuffer, or whatever sad sawdust-filled tape-on garbage bags I could buy in the incontinence section of the local stores. I'd put something from Rearz or Bambino on only if I knew I had enough hours to myself to make it worthwhile. It was a dark time, but, I was also elated to wake up every day knowing that my underwear choice was a foregone conclusion: it would be some kind of diaper, however rudimentary. 

Leaks were an issue for me back then, for sure - I was trying to make both terrible and good diapers last as long as possible, because they were in short supply. I was still getting used to having the bulk and the plasticity with me, all the time, and I was still thinking that people might hear my diaper, or notice the outline of it. I was still discovering what diaper paired with what outfit or situation. 

It's been interesting doing this brief bit of archeology on myself!  

[Little Sherri]

Just a brief note today, a tribute to the NorthShore MegaMax. I spent yesterday in a couple of them. I'd been passing them over for some of the newer additions to my collection, but there were a couple in my diaper drawer, and rather than going to the basement, I decided to spend some time with an old friend. They're a great product, comfortable, reliable, and, remarkably, I still fit into a medium, whereas with some of the newer Rearz models, which have shrunk, I now have to look at the XL size. I even wore a MegaMax while I ran some errands yesterday... when in the first half of their game, they're discrete enough for day wear. However they do swell up pretty decently (although not to BetterDry levels), so I'd have to either upsize my wardrobe (again), or downsize my derrière (which is part of my 2023 plans), in order to wear an 80% used MegaMax out in public.

Overall, a great diaper. This morning, I'm wearing their smaller sibling, the Supreme Lite, curiously only available in lavender (colour, not scent) right now. These are built a bit like a BetterDry in that they have the tab-on-a-tab fastening system, rather than employing a "landing zone". These are quite comfortable and they're slimmer, which was my impetus for choosing this one, as I have to run another errand shortly, this one with my wife, and we might see one of her friends while out, and I don't want her to be worried that my diaper might make it on the radar, ergo, the diminutive selection. 

[Little Sherri]

I'm feeling grateful this morning as I buzz around the house knocking off some minor household repairs before an appointment with red wine that starts at around the dinner hour, at a buddy's place. I'm enjoying being in a diaper, a slightly-damp Rearz Lil' Monster today. I'm preaching to the converted here, but I wish I could explain to someone who hasn't been in one recently, how fantastically comfortable and relaxing wearing a good diaper can be. I'm wearing somewhat snug pajama pants (thanks, Covid) and am enjoying the chorus of crinkles and crunches that accompany my activities. Up the ladder, down the ladder, up the stairs, down the stairs. Nary a pause required as my morning coffees make their way through the system. 

I did pause this morning, however, at around 7 am (I cast a blurry glance at the clock), when I had another of those "go ahead and poop" dreams. This was a weird one - as far as I can recall, I was standing in line at an exhibit of some sort, it might have been a zoo or some kind of botanical garden. It was warm out, and we were wearing shorts. We were outdoors and there were several of us waiting so see... something. I don't know what. But, regardless, it was going to be a challenge to leave the line; getting back to where I was would require Olympic-level line jumping that Canadians aren't fond of. Lots of raised eyebrows and "hey, a**hole" glances. And I needed to perform the second of nature's callings. Then, it occurred to me, in the dream... "You're wearing a diaper... just go for it. You can deal with this later."  In the dream, I actually started pushing... and then alarm bells went off in Central Command and I rose from the depths of slumber... and realized that I was farting. I had indeed started trying to go.

I did a quick systems check and determined that, A, I hadn't pooped my diaper as far as any tactile feedback from the area could tell me, and, B, that I didn't really need to go, either, it had just been gas, apparently, and I could go back to sleep. I was slightly wet, which possibly accompanied the opening of gate #2. I closed my eyes and slept for another couple of hours. 

But, I'm slightly worried about what would have happened IF I had had a customer at door #2. Hmmmm... it does seem that this nocturnal laissez faire approach to continence is trying to generalize a bit. I've heard that could happen, but I didn't fully believe it, chalking it up to wishful thinking. However, I don't wish to become a bed-pooper. I've seen Trainspotting. I sleep at other people's houses on weekends a couple of times a month, to avoid a $50 Uber and the need to reposition a car the next day, after an IPA-soaked evening. How on earth would I deal with THAT eventuality? I'd probably just have to slink out, drive home, and clean up there, assuming my diaper held up its end of the bargain and preserved the sheets. An invitation into the kitchen for a morning coffee would be a nerve-wracking situation. Do I smell like a barnyard? Best to feign a pressing matter... "Gotta run, need to rotate the air in my wife's tires... thanks for having me, cheers!" 

[oznl]

Interesting.

I have no parallel experience.  I have noticed increase #2 urgency that if ignored, may result in a #2 accident but there have been zero nocturnal incidents.

Having said that, I can think of zero instances where the need arose nocturnally.  I’m not sure what would happen if I picked up some kind of enteric virus (and I don’t really want to).

I *have* noticed that the “relaxed” stance of my pelvic floor does seem to mean for some unfortunately audible surprise farts in bed early in the morning.

On 1/8/2023 at 3:51 AM, Little Sherri said:

However, I don't wish to become a bed-pooper. I've seen Trainspotting.

One of my "top 5" personal movie choices!  The "worst toilet in Scotland" remains Pythonequely funny no matter how many times I've seen it.

[Little Sherri]

I ran into a somewhat absurd psychological stumbling block for myself again last night. I'd decided, apropos of nothing, that it was time to wear a cloth diaper for a change, so I pulled out a Rearz organic cotton pre-fold, some pins, and a pair of printed plastic pants, but when push came to shove, I could not make myself put the rig on, because I'm inexplicably shy about wearing cloth diapers and plastic pants in front of my wife. This, despite the fact that she's seen me in every printed diaper imaginable. So, I embarked on another strategy, and instead pulled on a cloth-backed disposable (a Rearz Active Air), and, one of my mostly-white PUL waterproof pants, which have a picture of a tractor on the rear, nothing overtly juvenile. I figured that wearing the disposable, which didn't require plastic pants, would give me an out, whereas once in a cloth diaper, I'd have had to discard the entire getup if being in the plastic pants just didn't feel "right". 

I intended to step out of my pants once my daughter went to bed, and just lounge around in my diaper, as I usually do, but, I could not bring myself to do it. I stood up and started taking off my daytime clothes, which my wife paid zero attention to, but when it came time to remove the jeans, I dropped them, and then felt compelled to pull on pajama pants - I just couldn't relax. I enjoyed the feel of being in the PUL cover, but, only under something else. I used up enough of that Active Air not to want to wear it to bed, just incase the dampness fairy visited (very unpredictable these days), so I discarded it for a MegaMax, put the untested PUL pants back, and rejoined my wife in bed in my white disposable, vaguely disappointed with myself. 

I have worn a cloth diaper and printed plastic pants (my mom used to call them "plastic panties") in front of her before, but it's been quite a while, and it seems that this particular hill has become insurmountable again. 

[oznl]

13 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I have worn a cloth diaper and printed plastic pants (my mom used to call them "plastic panties") in front of her before, but it's been quite a while, and it seems that this particular hill has become insurmountable again. 

Tbh, I keep my nappies as out-of-view as is reasonably possible from my beloved.  Her tolerance is less than yours and I don’t need the dross.  I have however over the years, adopted a greater degree of pragmatic negligence.  I’m also a regular cloth user and she sees them.

It’s hot here now.  My beloved has been pointedly draping my pyjama pants over my pillow after I dispensed with them for a few nights.  I suspect the puffy plastic pants weren’t doing it for her.

There is something to be salvaged from pushing through those kind of ceilings however.  I’ve found that the occasional “air clearing” conversation can ensue.

I didn’t so much “push through” one of those ceilings this week as “fall through” it.  This happened as I did something (unintentionally) that I’ve tried very hard NOT to do in the company of my beloved.  I didn’t particularly enjoy it but it was validating to find out that our world did not end because of it (That’s all a teaser for this week’s blog update when I get around to writing it ?)

On a side note, I went out for lunch with my beloved last Friday at the mall.  Under my shorts I was wearing a Rearz Omutsu cloth nappy and plastic pants which is less-than-subtle.  She didn't seem to care.

[Stroller]

14 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I have worn a cloth diaper and printed plastic pants (my mom used to call them "plastic panties") in front of her before, but it's been quite a while, and it seems that this particular hill has become insurmountable again.

No such problem here: Mummy will take my nappies out of the tumble-drier as well if I ask her to.  They're often hanging around in the house as are plastic pants hanging up to dry.  Having said that, I've been in disposables for the past 3 weeks, as the aforesaid drier has packed in & we're waiting for the engineer.

44 minutes ago, oznl said:

It’s hot here now.  My beloved has been pointedly draping my pyjama pants over my pillow after I dispensed with them for a few nights.  I suspect the puffy plastic pants weren’t doing it for her.

It's not hot here, but it was Mummy not wanting to cuddle up to me plastic pants that was one of the key things that delayed me going full-time into nappies for 18 months.  Now I'm in suitably juvenile jamas every night, and that problem has gone away.

[Little Sherri]

Well, today was somewhat monumental, but also pleasantly normal; let me explain. I met up with someone from here in real life for the first time, and we had lunch. He was a very pleasant, well-spoken and intelligent gentleman, a bit older than I am, and with a professional background not unlike mine, although he has more experience than I do. 

We met at a local Indian restaurant for lunch, neither of us knowing what would come of it, and both of us taking a bit of a leap of faith, based on how we sounded in a couple of emails to each other: presumably not barking mad or in a desperate search for some sort of an alternative-lifestyle tryst (not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's not what we were seeking). I wanted to have lunch, and chat with somebody about everyday things, and about our origin stories, and about what it's like to try and live a fairly conventional life, while also being embroiled in "this" particular spectrum of interests. It turned out that he was after more or less the same thing, and we talked for more than an hour, which felt like it wasn't enough time to more than glance off of a constellation of topics. 

When it was time to bid each other adieu, we wholeheartedly agreed to do it again. Or, at least I did - he may be changing his online identity as we speak, who knows, but I found his company and conversation enjoyable, so that's how it looks from my perspective, in any case! 

As always, to quote the great @oznl, your mileage may vary. If you are considering meeting up with someone from the internet in real life, take appropriate precautions, of course - meet in a public place, at a busy time, maybe don't wear your work uniform, maybe let someone know where you're going, if not why, and have your own transportation arranged, etc. But in this case, it was just a lunch with a well-spoken, professional guy, that occasionally got into what would conventionally be called odd topics, but not by the standards of anyone who's spent any time here. And, indeed, most of what we discussed could have been discussed with anyone I know. "This" was far from all that came up. It was interesting and felt good and I hope we do it again. Next time, I'm buying. 

On another topic, have any of you been "outed" by the recycling bin? I may fire up a survey on this topic, just to see what people say. Luckily, most ABDL diapers don't come in decorated boxes; they tend to be plain, and to say very little, or, what's printed on them is in code. For example, my unopened case of Rearz Lil' Monsters says "LM 10" on the box, not "Adult Monster-Themed Plastic Baby Diapers Size 10". So when I collapse a case and fold it up into the recycling, I don't worry much about it. Indeed, my wife has given a couple of ex-diaper boxes to friends of ours. 

When I was a kid, the diapers I wore came in printed boxes with pictures of content babies on the front, no euphemisms employed, emblazoned with wording such as "Extra Large Disposable Diapers." However, critically, humanity had yet to start worrying about how much stuff we were burying in the ground, in the name of getting more stuff, so, those potentially-humiliating boxes were usually broken down and put into garbage bags or packed into a garbage can. Or taken to the cottage and used to start fires. 

However, this topic occurred to me today, when I was driving my daughter to school, and along the way, I saw a number of kids standing at the end of their driveways with their moms or dads or grandparents, waiting for their school buses. On part of the route we take, it was recycling day, so there were blue bins and green organic bins at the ends of most of the driveways. We got stuck behind a school bus, and had to wait for it to pick up some kids, and when I was looking around, I realized that one house we were in front of had the remains of a box of Cuties size 7's sitting on top of one of their bins, and that both kids were of school age, as far as I could see. Further along, there were a couple of houses with pull-up boxes sitting at the curb. 

My mind immediately went to how I imagine I would have felt, standing at the end of my driveway as a kid, if a bus load of my classmates rolled up, and I was standing next to an empty Pampers box, or a Goodnites box (if they'd existed when I was a kid), knowing that anyone who knew me knew that we didn't have any babies in the house. I will reflect again on the sheer panic I sometimes felt when a friend came to the door unexpectedly (none of us had cell phones), and I had to dash up to my room and throw a blanket over the diaper box on the floor in my closet, before they came up to play. Or, worse, if I still had a diaper on under my pajamas, I'd open the door an inch, yell "Give me a sec!", and then slam it in their face and dash upstairs, while praying that my sister or my mom wouldn't open the door back up and say "How terribly rude, sorry about that, come on in..." 

 

[WBxx]

6 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

On another topic, have any of you been "outed" by the recycling bin? I may fire up a survey on this topic, just to see what people say. Luckily, most ABDL diapers don't come in decorated boxes; they tend to be plain, and to say very little, or, what's printed on them is in code. For example, my unopened case of Rearz Lil' Monsters says "LM 10" on the box, not "Adult Monster-Themed Plastic Baby Diapers Size 10". So when I collapse a case and fold it up into the recycling, I don't worry much about it. Indeed, my wife has given a couple of ex-diaper boxes to friends of ours.

Diaper box recycle outing is one of my fears.  To avoid the possibility, rather than recycling, I cut up the boxes placing them in the trash for pickup.

On the front end delivery outing is an unresolved fear.  I, or my wife, try to be home when diapers are delivered.  Occasionally that’s not possible with one or more cases of M4’s sitting near the front door in plain view till one of us returns.  For me large “M4” boxes are obviously diapers.  Don’t know what the neighbors think.

[Little Sherri]

12 hours ago, WBxx said:

On the front end delivery outing is an unresolved fear. 

I'm lucky in this regard. My suppliers tend to send them in fairly anonymous boxes, but, in any case, it's primarily my wife or I picking these things up from the porch, and my neighbours houses are far enough away that they wouldn't have any idea what we have delivered. I suppose the courier and postal service drivers must know something. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I got discriminated against this morning, based on a disability. Okay, I'm being somewhat facetious, and I don't mean to make light of anyone's actual lived experience with a situation like that, which is probably common and disheartening for those with a visible handicap. 

My "handicap", such as it is, is only visible if I'm not wearing trousers, or, I suppose, if my trousers are ill-suite to their task. Such was the case this morning, when my wife's alarm went off on her phone, and she responded by pulling the phone into bed with her and smothering it under her pillow, and continuing to snooze, even though I could hear its infernal pleadings. Eventually, I threw in the towel, and got up myself, planning to go into the washroom, rinse off my pacifier, throw some water on my face, and get dressed to go downstairs and make coffee. 

My wife heard me circling the bed. "Back of the line, diaper boy!" she growled from under the covers, before emerging and trudging by me with a lidded glance, to claim the bathroom I was headed towards, leaving me standing in my diaper and t-shirt, facing a closed door, mere inches from my objective. Sigh. 

She's repeatedly told me that people who wear diapers do not get priority for bathroom access, but, I would point out that there are dozens of other things one can do in there, that cannot also be done in diapers, AND, your honour, I would further point out that, on a daily basis, the likelihood of her having to wait to get into a washroom on my account, is lower than most, because of course I'm never in there, answering the most frequent of nature's calls. There are many days when I get up, brush my teeth, "drop the kids off at the pool", and then, I don't see the inside of a bathroom again until I'm getting ready for bed. So, what's the deal with being automatically relegated to the back of the line, whenever there is a booking conflict with respect to our ensuite bathroom? I would point out as well that my diaper cream and related supplies exist only in our shared bathroom, whereas, the last time I looked, the other two bathrooms in the house both had soap and toilet paper and functioning toilets. 

Although if I raise that argument, I might then find that she's put diaper cream  in the other two washrooms...

[FretaBWet]

Honestly, I can understand her position. For someone not in diapers that has gone all night without emptying their bladder being prone in bed is probably not too uncomfortable. Getting out of bed makes a big difference in urgency and thus a priority. Maybe you should consider "diaper boy" as a term of endearment.

Hugs,

Freta

[Little Belle]

Yeah I understand her position too. She may not need to wear a nappy for urge incontinence but as a lady of a certain age who has had children, her need to pee first thing in the morning will be VERY real. And she's come a long way with your lifestyle - perhaps give her this little concession. Life (and especially marrriage) is about knowing when to pick a fight and when to just laugh it off. 

[Little Sherri]

8 hours ago, Little Belle said:

Life (and especially marrriage) is about knowing when to pick a fight and when to just laugh it off. 

We're definitely good at that. Case in point: my beloved was in bed last night, winding down by watching one of those baking shows on some streaming service or other, modeled on the Great British Bake Off (I believe), but this one was Canadian. 

In the episode she was watching, they were making a fruit flan. One of the bakers said the following:

"There's not really much that you can say about a soggy bottom, except, that's not what you want."

At which point, my wife directed a wry glance at me, lounging, as I was, in a Northshore Supreme Lite that was about due for a change, reading, and said: "Hear that? There's not really much that you can say about a soggy bottom, except, that's not what you want." 

Touché. 

[Little Sherri]

Quick note today, as I have an unusually busy Friday on my hands here. My clients have not yet caught wind of the impending economic downturn, apparently. More money for diapers. 

Speaking of which (and aren't we always speaking of which?), I'm happy to report that my walking 25 kilometers a week (in 5 K increments) seems to have had a bit of the desired effect... I've lost a half-dozen pounds since Christmas. I used to be somewhat "fit", in the chubby middle-aged drinker sense of the term. I'd run 5 miles a couple of times a week and go to the gym a couple of times a week, and I could drink beer and eat more or less what I wanted to, and not really gain weight. My background, though, is one of genetic proneness to rotundity - way, way back, I used to weigh, weigh over 300 lbs. So, I know that that possibility exists - I've been there. I'm not abnormally tall so being 300 lbs makes me almost a perfect circle in shape. 

I've spent the last 20 years buying my clothes off the rack, after slaying the manatee within me, but Covid introduced the perfect storm of endless excuses to brew and drink the results, and stay home and eat comfort food, plus the gyms were closed, and, I became sedentary and corpulent. The trajectory was grim for a guy getting into the latter half of his 40's. I needed to get my derrière in gear. 

So I started walking every day a few weeks ago. As a result, today, I went to visit my mechanic with a good old plastic diaper on, a Rearz Essential, which was one of my daytime go-to's for reliability and comfort, providing a 6 - 8 hour cruising range. At the end of last year, I'd found that my oversized jeans had become correctly-sized, or even, slightly snug, and I started resorting to wearing my gym diapers more and more if I had to go out in public, because I was afraid that the bulk of a decent diaper might now be too noticeable. Which means I burn through more diapers, because the gym ones are only good for 2 -3 hours, really, away from backup. Maybe 4 hours if you're already sitting on a towel. And, I much prefer wearing a real medium-duty ABDL diaper if I feel like I can get away with it, which apparently, now, I do. 

[Little Sherri]

I posted on someone else’s thread about the division of labour in the household, and I guess that got me thinking. I’m pondering the subtle irony of being in diapers, and running around the house, cleaning toilets. I found myself doing the same thing last Monday, because on Mondays, I typically have a couple of hours to kill in the evening before my wife and younger daughter get home. 

I could be playing around with my guitar (badly), or writing something (badly), or fixing something, but instead, I’m running around in a onesie and a diaper, cleaning bathrooms. I omitted trousers because they’d likely end up in the laundry after such duty.

It’s not that I don’t use the toilets - I do, more or less entirely for nature’s calling #2. But, I use them less than anyone else who lives here, I’d imagine. The bin in my closet offers mute testimony to that.

I went out on the road today, to visit an old plant bought by new owners, and discuss what we could do to tune it up a bit. It was fun. I wore jeans, a shirt, this onesie and a NorthShore Air Supreme, which is a pretty serious cloth-backed product. I probably could have gone with plastic, but nothing was going to be operating in there, and if I had been faced with tomb-like silence for my tour, I felt that maybe I’d have been using 10% of my processing power worrying about if anyone could hear my diaper. 

That turned out not to have been the case, because they were using a vac truck to clean out vats and blending tanks, so it was plenty loud.

Being in just this onesie makes me long for nicer weather. That makes little sense, I know, because I won’t likely run around outside in just a onesie come summer, as I have not ever done that so far, but the idea of it appeals to me a bit. Maybe a locking onesie, the key gone with someone, no fixed schedule for their return. It’s just me and my diaper, come what may. 

I’ve never experienced that, or, not since I was of a single-digit age. My mom used to put our sleepers on backwards to avoid “diaper art” in the crib, but the closest I can come to the experience of being essentially consigned to my diaper, that I can actually recall, is probably when we went on long distance drives and I had a diaper on. I wasn’t locked in it, and, indeed, I was encouraged to use the bathroom, but, if where we were going wasn’t far enough to require an overnight bag, one which might contain a pair of tighty whities to escape to, then my next undergarment would likely be in my mom’s purse, another rectangle of white plastic for the drive back. 

I’m brimming with nostalgia for that feeling now, even though then, I was conflicted, sometimes liking my infantile underpants, but desperate not to show it, and terrified that someone would see evidence of them at a gas station or restaurant or at the relative’s house we were journeying to. Sigh.

[Little Sherri]

My wife got a subtle shot in; she was talking about house-training a puppy, except she said "potty-training" the dog, and she said "We'll all have to work together and be consistent so that we get this done quickly, and then we're back to only having one person in the house who's not potty-trained...." 

Although I maintain that I'm not "not potty-trained", I'm just neglecting it, kind of like not using a language for a while, or not picking up an instrument you used to play for a while. It never completely goes away, it just gets rusty. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I'm enjoying having the blinds up in my office today, because it's a wall of white out there, so I can walk around in my diaper and not worry about giving any of my neighbours PTSD. I'm in a Rearz Lil' Squirts Splash right now, because at some point I may have to go pick my daughter up from school, and these are a good "out and about" weight - comfy but they don't render my butt visible from space. I anticipate being asked to get her because my wife doesn't relish driving in bad weather, and right now, it's snowing pretty decently out there. They're keeping on top of of the roads, though - they look clear, even out here, which is a bit out of the city. Kudos to the city crews. 

It's funny, because this type of weather is represented as a major "event" these days, whereas, when I was a kid, I think that it was more or less "normal" to be getting snow, in the winter, in Canada. I barely remember ANY snow days occurring when I was in school, whereas my kids have them with amazing frequency. Maybe that has more to do with the evolution of liability concerns than it does with climate change, but, this winter has been unusually warm. Case in point: I have yet to fire up my snowblower. All the show-falls we've had so far have been too minor to warrant bringing a gasoline-powered device into the fray. I've just scraped a few inches off the driveway a couple of times, or, it was going to be 5 degrees above zero the next day, anyway, so I let the driveway "auto-clear". 

Maybe, maybe I'll have cause to finally see if the thing starts tomorrow, if we get the full 8 inches or so (20 cm) that they're calling for. I'm not holding my breath, though, because they've already overestimated the impact of a few "events" this season, to the point of closing the schools for what turns out to be a few centimetres of snow and some light rain. Funny enough, the schools are open today, and lo and behold, it's snowing pretty good out there. 

[Little Sherri]

Oh, yeah, we got the snow. I'd say 30 cm (~1 foot). I didn't end up firing up the snow blower because I went out and did the driveway by hand 3 X throughout the snowfall. It's always a debate as to whether the weather warrants just waiting it out and then firing up the beast, versus pushing it off intermittently as it comes down. This one probably justified burning dinosaur nectar, but if I'd let the driveway get fully snowed in first, I might not have been able to get my car out. It's AWD and on winter tires but it's a low car. I'd be essentially plowing the driveway with it. My wife has an SUV that would have been able to fjord it, I'd imagine. 

I had another moment of, I guess I'd call it "diaper bliss", or maybe gratitude, last night. We have a puppy with us right now, and I was lying on the floor in our bedroom, on my tummy, playing with it, in just a diaper and a t-shirt, a white MegaMax. Lying on the floor on my stomach is not something I do a lot of, in any state of dress, but doing it in just a diaper felt reminiscent of... something. It felt youthful and vaguely nostalgic, but not of anything that I can readily remember. I might be harkening back to the "tummy time" that they recommend for infants, to help strengthen their neck muscles and get them starting to roll over and do the push-ups that eventually lead to crawling, but surly to God, I'm not remembering that. I did used to love playing with dinky cars when I was a kid, and I had a mat that I could roll out on the floor, that had roads printed on it, and I'd lie on my tummy and drive my Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars around it for hours. It's conceivable that I did that sometimes while wearing a diaper, although, again, I have no specific recollection of it. I'd have been pretty young, maybe 5 or 6, which is kind of the event horizon for most of my memories. 

Anyway, it felt nice to be able to do that in a decent diaper, free from judgement or shame. Well, my wife may have been judging me, but if she was, she kept it to herself. I don't think the puppy cared what I had on. 

[oznl]

On 1/26/2023 at 5:24 AM, Little Sherri said:

when I was a kid, I think that it was more or less "normal" to be getting snow, in the winter, in Canada. I barely remember ANY snow days occurring when I was in school, whereas my kids have them with amazing frequency. Maybe that has more to do with the evolution of liability concerns than it does with climate change,

Despite growing up in one of Australia’s cooler climates (Victoria), snow was never a thing.

There was however, an apocryphal student-rumour that in the event of the school interior reaching 40C, policy would see classes suspended.  A handful of low to mid 40s daily maximum shade temperatures WERE a thing each summer, even that far south.

Whilst air conditioning was available in the 1970s, that kind of NASA-level technology was not wasted on kids.

Supporting this theory, there was indeed an ancient mercury thermometer hanging in the hall outside the principal’s office, safely above the reach of enterprising students armed with cigarette lighters.

The thing was, the principal’s office hall was located in the “old” part of the school, an ancient circa-1910 brick-and-stone edifice with (what seemed like) 20 foot high ceilings, shaded by gum trees with exterior walls clad in a thick, evaporative-cooling layer of ivy.

I NEVER saw that thermometer go past 30C, even when kids were outside sitting cross-legged on a burning tarmac courtyard poking their initials into the asphalt with their bare fingers and occasionally fainting for the amusement of teachers (skin cancer and heat stroke hadn’t been invented yet).

[BabyJilly_S]

I certainly remember lying on my stomach watching tv, drawing or playing with my cars for hours. Not diapered though, my early days were very "normal" in that aspect. 

As for snow days, I live in the UK and we totally freak when any snow happens. It doesn't take much of it to stop anything working here.

Paraphrasing Oznl here, the puppy didn't care but it did know what you were doing in that diaper