24/7 startups, and unexpected pitfalls?

[Little Sherri]

On 12/6/2023 at 11:28 AM, FretaBWet said:

The astounding part is that a highly intelligent person with a good education could be so blind to this for so long.

This aspect is interesting. She pursues a policy of willful blindness on some topics, and perhaps this one is included. I'm within 4 months of my 5-year "diaperversary"... I guess I never really thought I'd get this far, and nor, starting out, did I ever truly contemplate the idea that at some point, people would know about it, but regardless of how careful one thinks one is being, there are a few factors at play; the first is that, over the course of years, you are simply going to let your guard down occasionally - it's impossible to maintain hypervigilance continually. Secondly, unless you're a hermit, you will have to let some people into the circle of trust. There is no way to be married to someone and to wear secret underwear, all the time, everywhere, without them becoming aware of it, and then you have the unpredictable mind of someone else contemplating a thing, and what they make of it is beyond prediction and beyond your control. Thirdly, 365 days and nights X 5 years adds up to a lot of interactions with people - there is a of random chance playing out. Just as I could win the lottery or get hit by a falling aircraft part, but, it's a lot more likely that I'll slip in the shower, so it goes that while I might worry about a scenario wherein my trousers are cut off by paramedics, it's a lot more likely that my diaper will, at some point, peak out above the waist of my jeans, on a day where someone drops by unexpectedly and I'm not in full security mode. And, I might never know it happened. 

I guess what I'm saying is, if you want to live a diapered life, you have to take the crunchy with the smooth. So far, there are about a half dozen people that I'm reasonably certain know "something"  - and, the repercussions have been minimal. We're all still friends, I'm invited to their houses, they come to mine, we're planning vacations together. Your mileage may vary, but, if I could step into a time machine and talk to myself when I was 9 or 10, I would probably say two things: first, stop chewing on your own guts so much about wearing diapers, and, about secretly liking it - there are other people like you, and, it's not the end of the world if someone finds out. Second, having integrated point number one, just enjoy wearing them, man - the next time you're going to be granted this absence of culpability is when you're in your 80's. Don't pantomime a fight for the sake of covering up the reality that, sometimes, you're fine with wearing them, and, be more fine with wearing them - don't go catatonic with anxiety if you're told to take the dog out while you've got a diaper on under your pajamas. And if it's a nice Sunday and you're getting ready to go play in the yard for a bit, leave your diaper on when you get dressed - you are never going to get a chance to be this free again. And you'll never fit into Pampers again, either. 

[Little Sherri]

I've now had an opportunity to test drive the Rearz Incontrol BeDry diaper... and I honestly can't tell it apart from their Essential, which is also a medium-duty, white plastic diaper with four tapes. The price point is good, though. I may have overshot on the sizing - it's hard to know for sure with Rearz, as some of their large offerings have shrunk, pushing me into their XL category... but not all of them. Making it even more complicated is the fact that I have shrunk, as well - not a whole lot, but enough that I'm down a couple of pant sizes from "Peak Sherri".  I think I could have gotten away with buying them in large, but even in XL, they're still slim enough to wear as a daytime diaper - they just go about a third of the way up my back. Onesies will be mandatory for public wearing. 

Their primary attraction is their pricing - they come in at pennies over $2 CAD a diaper when bought in a case of 48. Capacity-wise, I'll ignore their 7500 ml ISO claims, and just point out that they seem to perform about as well as the Essential, or Lil' Monsters/Splash/Bella lines. IE, they're an 8-10 hour diaper, which is a category I appreciate. Typically, I might go to bed in a super diaper (Critter Caboose, Mega Barnyard, MegaMax), and then stay in it for most of the next day, until I run up against the necessity to go somewhere and run an errand, often around the dinner hour, or just after dinner. A medium-duty product is perfect for that scenario - I'll change into it at, say, 3 PM, and ride it out until 10 or so, when it's time to put on another 12+ hour product. 

Over the holidays, having a stock of them will be useful, because daytime errands will be more of a factor - visiting, dropping of gifts, things like that. Waddling around in a huge diaper would be impractical and would also potentially irk my spouse. 

I was away for work the last few days of last week - I don't think I mentioned I was doing that, other than blogging about getting fitted for a suit. It was a decent trip, nothing remarkable. I drove instead of flying, because I had a couple of stops to make on the way down. The border crossing, in a car, was uneventful - it took about 30 seconds. Happily, they don't scan your underwear when you're travelling by ground, at least not yet. Had they searched my car, they wouldn't have found anything interesting - just a bunch of white diapers; I avoid the printed ones when hotel garbage cans are in play. I guess if they dug into my shaving kit they might have come up with one light blue adult-sized pacifier, but I believe those are legal. 

My suit fit well over my diaper, and I was able to navigate the meetings and cocktail hours confidently. It's amazing to me how much less of that kind of interacting I've been doing since the pandemic - so much of what I do now is handled over Zoom or Teams. I don't even need to own pants anymore, as long as my shirts look decent. 

One of the evenings, we drank a bunch of red wine, courtesy of the company, and I ended up falling asleep on top of my bed, in just a diaper, not even a shirt. Fast forward to 6 AM the next morning, and my alarm is going off. Groggy, and slightly hung over, I reached for the light beside my bed, flicked it on, got up, and started getting organized for the day... then realized that my room's curtains were wide open. It was black outside, but, there was an office building across the street from the hotel, with a number of windows already lit up in it. So I guess some ambitious junior analyst might have witnessed a man in a diaper laying out clothes for the day before running over and pulling the curtains shut... 

[FretaBWet]

Such is life in diapers. The wife and I went bowling last week. I had on my basic Betterdry and it always sticks up above my pants front and rear. I had a really hot (for me) string and I was putting my arms stretched out above my head and dancing around a few times with strikes. Later at home my wife informed me that my diapers were showing openly each time. I asked her why she didn't tell me right away and she said I was having so much fun she didn't want to spoil it for me lol.

Hugs,

Freta

[Little Sherri]

I'm transplanting this over from another thread, because the question sparked a memory that I hadn't thought about in a long time. I think I might have mentioned the Luv's theme song, and my siblings torturing me with it, at some point in this deep abyss of these musings; if so, here's another example, dredged from the depths of my memories: 

The question posed in the thread was along the lines of, did you find diaper advertisements intriguing, as a kid?

There was a classic Luv's jingle that accompanied the commercials in the 1980's - it went "Luv's - do do do do do, do do do do do do do du do do - you're baby's comfort begins with Luv's...." 

It's burned into my brain because my sister and brother used to sometimes sing it at me if we were in a disagreement, or if they wanted to get under my skin. I recall one particular occasion where there was a bunch of us in the basement of my aunt's house on the East coast - we were there for Christmas - and my sister and I were arguing over who got to sit in a coveted bean bag chair on the floor for a TV show. I was insisting that it was my turn - she'd had it earlier that day or whatever - and so I parked myself on the chair and basically defied her to try and get me off of it. Well, she started humming the Luv's theme, and I more or less jumped up immediately, because she knew I had a diaper on under my pajamas (not a Luv's, though - I wish it had been!), and of course the unspoken threat was that she'd tell my cousins if I didn't give her the chair. Ahh, sisters. Gotta love 'em. Or "Luv" 'em. 

In general, I always watched those adds with a mixture of fascination and slight horror, because at least some of the time, I was sitting in a diaper, and so it felt like the TV Gods were reminding everyone one in the room. But, I loved seeing the products. My experience with the diaper Aisle at Toys R' Us or the supermarket was the same - I loved the smell and looking at all the packages, but most of the time, we walked past those shelves as a family, so I dreaded my sister making a comment. My brother was less likely to do so, because I could punch him later, but hitting my sister was strictly forbidden (although she hit me from time to time!). I'd badly want to stand and linger, but felt it would be obvious, so I'd almost sprint past them. When I was a bit older, I would offer to run over to another aisle and get something from the list, "to be helpful", and then I'd steal a few moments to look at the diaper boxes. 

As an adult watching TV, I sometimes feel the same way - if I'm watching with my wife and diapers somehow come up within the plot of the show, or a baby diaper or Depends commercial comes on, I'll be reminded that, of course, I'm wearing a diaper, and, presumably, she has the same thought... 

On the topic of my wife and my diapers, I've been thinking about how to word this next vignette, because the jokes just write themselves. You could say that I got a "blow job" in a diaper last night, and it was "hot"... 

Uh, no - not that type of blow job. I wish. My wife, if she ever reads this, will surely kill me. You folks have been put on notice - if it ever turns out that I went swimming with the toaster, it was not a suicide. 

Here goes: my wife has been struggling with hot flashes - it's that time of life - so she's prone to throwing our bedroom window open at 2 AM, when it's -5 degrees outside (or -20, soon enough), and making the temperature in our room safe for the storage of meat. I was having trouble falling asleep last night already, probably because I'd eaten dark chocolate earlier in the evening, so I was getting frustrated, and then, I also found myself getting cold. I pulled a second blanket over myself at probably 1 AM. My wife was sitting in bed reading, and the light wasn't helping. 

She asked me if I was cold, to which I responded "Yeth" (around my pacifier...), and then, apropos of nothing, she reached over and produced a hairdryer from her side of the bed, placing it under my side of the blankets and turning it on. She was basically blowing it right on my diaper, and it was an odd sensation... but not an unpleasant one. I warmed up quickly. 

Then, she said "I can smell your diaper....", which is about the worst thing someone you share a bed with can tell you... until she did the deep nasal inhalation one does when presented with a bouquet of flowers. That's when I realized that what she meant was, super-heating my diaper was making the air around us smell like baby powder. My diaper was almost entirely dry at that point so it couldn't have meant anything else - I had baby powder scented diaper cream on, baby powder in the diaper, and, I'd anointed it with baby powder scent when I'd put it on a couple hours earlier. And, indeed, the air under the blankets began smelling like a newly-opened box of Pampers. It was all rather intoxicating, a strange unexpected interlude in the middle of the night. At one point I became slightly concerned that the cover on my diaper would melt, or the tapes might give up, but they didn't get damaged - I'm still in it (a MegaMax). 

[Little Sherri]

I experienced an interesting and still-disconcerting taste of "incontinence" yesterday, although it was self-imposed. I wore that MegaMax through much of the day, but needed to abandon it at the dinner hour. It hadn't leaked and was still very comfortable, but it was appreciably swollen, and I had a buddy coming over to try a new beer I'd kegged over the weekend, so I didn't want to be squishing around in an at-capacity super diaper I'd had on since I went to bed the night before. I swapped it for a large Prevail diaper, thinking that I'd be in it for a few hours, tops, and then I'd take a shower and put on a suitable bedtime diaper. 

As an aside, I have to say that the MegaMax is a magnificent product. It's just too bad they're so expensive up here, about $4.75 CAD each. I still have some in inventory, and I'll probably buy some more, but the Rearz Mega Inspire+, when bought on sale, offers the same capacity for about 1/3 less money. However, there is one other difference: I fit in a medium MegaMax, whereas on the Inspire+, I need a large. That makes the MegaMax relatively compact super diaper, descriptors that are not often seen together. At least until it starts to swell. 

We tried the beer; it was good. A decision was taken to continue the conversation at a pub with a couple of additional friends, whilst watching the hockey game, an outcome I hadn't considered when I had chosen the evening's diaper. I drove to the pub and also picked up another accomplice. We ate chicken wings with fiery suicide sauce on them (at one of the few places where the suicide sauce is actually respectable), and we drank some pints. I switched to water midway through the session, because I was driving. You can see where this is going. 

My friends who weren't driving turned the evening into a bit of a session, not aware that I hadn't chosen a storm-rated diaper. I dribbled away contentedly, at first, but eventually started having concerns. I had a backup diaper in the car, but it was parked out front, and I really didn't want to get up, go out to the car, retrieve something, walk past my buddies on the way in, with a concealed package, go to the washroom, and then come back, when I figured we were leaving shortly, anyway. So, I just elected to stop dribbling. 

There was a wait for the bills, then I had to drop a couple of guys off, then, the highway was blocked up for some reason and I ended up taking sideroads home instead, all of which added up to my arriving at my house really needing to pee... in an already wet, relatively low capacity diaper. What happened? I opened my front door, walked into the house... and had a surge in urgency that was simply undeniable, some kind of bladder cramp, basically- the dreaded "latchkey" response, I assume. I briefly considered running for the main floor washroom, but I have no changing supplies in there, so I went went for the stairs, instead. 

As I dashed up them, I noted with a mix of wonder and horror that I was now peeing freely and decadently into my diaper, and there was NOTHING I could do to stop it. It was like being in a car rolling down a hill, and discovering that the brake peddle goes to the floor and doesn't come back up. I've been aware for a long time that once flow commences, I can't shut it down, but it doesn't usually start up by itself (at least when I'm awake), and, I can still slow it down a bit, generally. However, ordering a reduction in output produced no results in that moment. This was happening. 

For the second time in a month or two (I'd have to go pick through this thread to find it, but I know that something close to this happened to me in the last few weeks), I burst through the bedroom door, which caused the dog to start barking, startling my wife, and then I ran into the bathroom, but it was already too late - I could feel wetness in my jeans at my inner thigh on one side. 

I went into the shower stall and dropped my jeans, stepping out of them with a stream now running down my inner thigh, and waited for the event to end, before dropping the assassinated Prevail to the shower floor with a splat. I pushed both with my feet to a dry area away from the water flow, then took my shirt off, and took a shower. 

I'd neglected to go over to my diaper drawer on the way in, which was surly a wise decision, because otherwise I might have had to clean the floor under the cold gaze of my spouse, but, that now left me standing in the bathroom with no underwear option, no robe, and, mysteriously, only a medium-sized towel at hand. 

Somewhat sheepishly, I stuck my head out the bathroom door and asked my wife if she'd bring me a diaper. 

"I thought you might be having an, uh, issue," she said, as she walked over to my diaper drawer. She handed me an Incontrol Essential, which I'm still in, although, being a medium-duty product, this won't last all day. I foresee a lunchtime change in my future. Ironically, I was not "in control". 

[ppdude]

Your betrothed sounds very generous and quite tolerant. It sounds she's OK with the paci's too (not to mention onesies and plastics)! You hit the mother load! How'd you get so lucky?

 

 

[Little Sherri]

19 hours ago, ppdude said:

Your betrothed sounds very generous and quite tolerant. It sounds she's OK with the paci's too (not to mention onesies and plastics)! You hit the mother load! How'd you get so lucky?

I may be inadvertently exaggerating her "tolerance", or downplaying her intolerance, of "this" in my recounting of events here... the day-to-day feeling on the front lines isn't that my baby pants are enthusiastically embraced, by any means. I took a real risk when I decided to openly live a diapered life, and although it's been almost 5 years, I'm far from out of the woods on that front... I could still end up living in a van, at some point. A van half-filled with cases of diapers, which I guess I could fashion into a superabsorbent bed of sorts. 

My spouse throws me withering glances and sarcastic comments with some regularity. Also, I am burning through some political capital here... I end up making concessions I otherwise might not have been inclined to make, in service to preserving the territory I've carved out to always be in taped-on underpants. Although my analysis of the costs and benefits of my strange initiative suggests that, counterintuitively, "this" might underpin some unexpected outcomes on the marital relations front; I'm less likely to be strident about certain things, because I know I'm asking a lot in another arena. I choose fewer hills to die on, I guess you could say. I still have hills, but, not as many of them, because the main hill I'm defending is so important to me. And, the overarching theme of this strange excursion has always been that I'm happier, and in a better mood, when my bum is damp, and presumably, a happier me makes for a better partner. Thus, I wish that I could talk her into seeing if wearing a diaper would improve her outlook... no. Not happening. 

I am lucky, though, that I haven't blown my life up, so far.  

That Rearz (Incontrol) Essential that I was in hit the bin by early afternoon, having performed surprisingly well for a "basic" product. I replaced it with a Critter Caboose, just because that was what was at the top of my dwindling diaper drawer contents (I will restock on Saturday). It being below zero outside most of the time now, facilitates a degree of carelessness with respect to diaper dimensions, because everyone is wearing bulky jackets and sweaters. I had to run a couple of errands around the dinner hour, but, my big puffy diaper did not deter me. I even went for a rather long walk with the dog. 

Wearing that lower-end product to bed the night before changed my schedule a bit, such that, at bedtime last night, my Critter Caboose was wonderfully, evenly damp, almost to the point of being in a cloth diaper. We'd gotten wrapped up in a movie that I hadn't intended to finish, starting out, and we ended up turning out the lights late. I'd been reclining on the bed for a couple of hours, and I guess everything I was producing was migrating downward, so that the diaper, while still having more than half of it's service life left (indeed, I'm still in it), had an unusual-for-a-disposable even distribution of wealth. She turned out the lights, and I rolled over onto my tummy, falling asleep to the gentle, moist pressure my diaper gracing my backside. Finding beauty in the "little" things, I guess you could call it. 

[oznl]

7 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

Also, I am burning through some political capital here...

This is certainly the case for me.  My (arguably awful) decision has triggered a vast withdrawal from my socio-marital bank account.

All those decades of half-killing myself criss-crossing the planet as a workaholic with cortisol for blood so that she could live in nice houses and drive new European cars, spending every weekend I wasn't traveling working around the house fixing things that she and the kids had broken whilst I was away, well, that's all over now.

I earn a pittance, I'm around the house more and I live in nappies.  These are grimly tolerated, not embraced.  I suspect the best I could ever hope for would be some kind of twisted Stockholm-syndrome kind of acceptance.

In the mean time, I just hope that my socio-marital capital lasts longer than I do 🤣

[Little Sherri]

Speaking of my wife's tolerance, or intolerance, I was subjected to "continence-ism" last night. I got up off the bed and went to walk over to the bathroom, when my wife dropped her book and fairly leaped into the bathroom ahead of me.

I said something along the lines of "Hey, I was going in there!", and she said "Use your Pampers" from behind the closed door. I didn't really have a good comeback for that, standing there, as I was, in a big printed diaper (Lil' Splash), although I was heading in to brush my teeth, not use the toilet. 

I noted this week that I'm using the toilet less... I'm not sure if this is due to diet, aging, or my experiment in November with not using the toilets at all for a few days. Regardless, I used to be a 2-deposit-a-day man, religiously - I always went in the morning, and then again at some point later in the day or in the evening, but the evening events have been non-events lately, and I'm not sure why. When I was using my diaper for everything for a few days, I definitely did aim to curtail the number of mass casualty events, first of all, because they were deeply inconvenient, and, second, because part of my experiment was dedicated to actually getting to a place where I needed to do what I was going to do - delivering on a schedule felt like cheating. If I could go at 8 AM and again at 8 PM, like clockwork, then why use a diaper? Whereas holding it - not to the breaking point, but, to the point where the countdown clock was audible - seemed like a more "authentic" diapering experience. 

So now I only use bathrooms for showers, shaving and oral hygiene, with but one exception, most days. Indian food or weapons-grade hot wings can still evoke aftershocks. For the other 23.75 hours, it's just me and my diapers. I guess I'm saving some water? 

[Little Sherri]

I have a couple of notes for the weekend. First of all, I now fit in my Princess Pink diapers again. I was loading a laundry basket with diapers to take upstairs and reload my diaper drawer with, and I came across the sleeve of them in one of my totes. Ordering them had been a misfire - it was right around the time that Rearz downgraded their large size in some models, and, I was trending a good 20-30 lbs heavier than I like to be. Those two events conspired to leave me with some Pink's that could still cover my arse, but, the lower tabs no longer comfortably made it to the landing zone. So, I put them in stasis, next to my medium Magnifico's, in the bottom tote, and stopped thinking about them. However, I was doing a bit of an inventory and had a look in there, and wondered... hmmm... would these fit now?

The short answer is, yes, they fit. They're still at the outside edge of their range, but they're not past the edge. They're not going to become part of my regular rotation, because they're an achingly pink diaper, something that makes me self-conscious around my wife, if my diaper is visible, and usually, in the latter part of the evening, my diaper is visible. I guess I could put onesie PJ's on, but I usually do that out in the open, not after skulking off, so either she'd wonder what's up, or, she's going to see my diaper when I put the PJ's on. It's fine - I've worn them in front of her before - but there is a "bravado" decline that occurs in me when I haven't worn something in front of her for a while. That is often at the heart of my reluctance to wear plastic pants around her - I'm sure that if I just went ahead and did it for a few nights, it would be no big deal. I'm in a printed diaper at least half the time, so printed plastic pants aren't exactly astonishing in that context, and, I also have plain ones. Pity I don't have a therapist to bore with this stuff. 

In other news, I had a slightly interesting experience at a Christmas party this weekend. I may be overthinking it, but, I'll put it to the group: my good friend's wife- let's call her Kate - ended up drawing my name in a secret Santa gift exchange scenario. Nobody knew who got who - you only knew the name of the person whom you were supposed to buy for. As chance would have it, I drew the name of her husband. Me buying for him was easy - he likes Scotch. Done. I even knew what kinds he was low on. 

This buddy is the guy I've spoken of before, who I'm entirely sure has seen the top couple of inches of my diaper at least once or twice during home repair emergencies. Regarding Kate, people who have been reading this thread for a long time may recall a story, from way back at the dawn of my 24/7 journey:  my wife once complained that new jeans I'd purchased were too large for me, which they were - I'd done that deliberately, because I was "right-sizing" my wardrobe at the time, in order to accommodate wearing diapers, of course. But she decided to ask Kate to confirm her opinion, when we were out socially with the two of them, leaving me in the position of having a friend's wife carefully considering my diapered silhouette. Kate concurred that my pants were indeed oversized. I asked my wife, later, not to do that to me again. 

Anyway, Kate drew my dame in the secret Santa exchange. What did she give me? Well, a bag full of unrelated items... some whiskey-flavoured candy, a couple of rocks glasses (appreciated), a cocktail spoon... and, a bottle of baby powder-scented bathroom deodorizer - that stuff you're supposed to spritz into the water before you do the big job, on the theory that it seals the smells in or something. Which, by itself, barely measures on the Richter scale. But, also... not one, not two, but three packages of baby wipes - one big package and two travel packages. 

SO I'm unpacking this stuff, and smiling, and thanking her, and then I pull out the package of baby wipes, and I raise an eyebrow and make a comment about how useful they can be, and how one thing I miss about not having young children is perpetually having wet wipes on hand, everywhere, all the time, ostensibly for the children, but let's face it, I've used them to get pizza sauce off my jeans or wing sauce off my hands, ha ha ha, but we don't lug around a diaper bag anymore, so those days are in the past. Then, she says "Well, you could put them in that backpack you're always carrying with you, I figured they might come in handy." 

That "backpack" she was referring to, that I'm "always carrying" (a slight exaggeration, but I do often carry it), is, of course, my diaper bag, basically. She's aware of it because I nearly always bring it in with me when I'm at her house, since usually when I'm over there, her husband and I end up drinking beer and watching hockey, and then six hours has passed and it's 1 AM and I'm summoning a ride share to go home, or I'm just crashing in their guest room for the night. The guest room which, by the way, was responsible for me buying myself pacifier tethers, after I lost one in their linens some years ago. I had to go back over and feign that I was looking for a sock for my daughter that was allegedly precious - it was all a rouse in order to allow me to retrieve the device before they decided to freshen the linens, and found it. I got lucky and it was under the bed by the headboard, otherwise I'd have had to say it was for one of the kids' dolls or something. 

Anyway, I'm probably overthinking this - she's seen me eat chicken wings a number of times, and wipes are ALWAYS useful under such circumstances. But, my mind could not help picking at the edge of a nascent concern that she knows. Although why she would then tip her hand via my gift bag is harder to figure out, so maybe it's all just coincidence, the Universe having a laugh at my expense. As a good friend once said, "When you play silly games, you get silly prizes." 

[WBxx]

No doubt about it - she knows.

[superabsorbantpolymer]

Yep she knows, and that's a super awkward gift lol

[Babygeebee]

I have to agree. She knows and is telling you she knows. I would hazard to guess that she is okay with it too. If she weren't she would have steared clear and avoided tipping here hand all together. 

[oznl]

Assuming it’s not just some bizarre co-incidence, it’s VERY hard for me find a positive justification for her course of action here.

At BEST, it could be a ham-fisted but no-harm-intended joke but even that would require a remarkable feat of wilful blindness (or, Darwinian-level stupidity) not to anticipate the extraordinary risk it axiomatically carries for you.

At worst, it’s passive-aggressive toying at the edge of “outing” somebody.

Colour me "unimpressed"...

[Little Sherri]

3 hours ago, oznl said:

At worst, it’s passive-aggressive toying at the edge of “outing” somebody.

The situation is made all the weirder (and harder to interpret) because she and I get along very well. I've been buddies with her husband for a long, long time, our kids are friends, and we've done countless favours for each other's families, travelled together, we've taken one of their kids on vacation with us, we have keys to each other's houses. And, she's smart - this is not some dolt. We have been very good to each other as families over the years, helped each other out through medical crap with our parents and kids, things like that. Two days after this happened, I sat at their island and we talked about the holiday dynamics and politics of extended families, kids with new partners - deep conversations you don't have with someone you're patronizing or pretending to respect.  

I suspect the hand of my spouse in this. She's been in a toxic mood for a couple of weeks. I've been side-stepping around it as best I can, but she's a landmine waiting for someone to step on her, and you can see the kids skirting the periphery of the room when she's in it. It's related, I'm told, to "the change". She gets this way from time to time, and then eventually shakes it off, but in the meantime, she's being short with me constantly. On the topic of Christmas, she's said things like "don't get me anything, I don't want anything", which I know is a trap. 

I wonder if Kate asked my wife for direction on what to get me, and my wife suggested the glasses (I had some break recently), and then she said "Get him some baby wipes, he'll think it's funny...", and Kate perhaps thought it was a way to signal "We are in the know and we don't hold it against you, ha ha..." 

[superabsorbantpolymer]

With that context it's probably not malicious, probably your wife has vented/complained/mentioned/all of the above your diapers many times to her? 

I remember your early account of the oversized jeans, she probably knew then and has been aware for years. There's definitely a charitable interpretation where she knows you wear (enjoy?) diapers and got you something that pertains to that. But tbh wipes are a weird gift, for a continent or incontinent person imo, unless it's meant to be a sh***y gift 💩

Look at it on the bright side, as part of social lock in. The people in your life know you wear diapers and even if it may be brought up in a "teasing"/ negative joke way, that is part of how people process abnormal aspects of their life and the people around them. You can think of it on some level as affirmation, you are a diaper user and a friend who knows you well thought a funny but still useful gift would be some fancy wipes to clean your dirty bum after you mess yourself. 😂🧷 🚼

[Little Sherri]

That's an optimistic interpretation that I choose to embrace, @superabsorbantpolymer. Thank you for that. Even if I'm fooling myself. Like I said before, play silly games, get silly prizes. Things could be far, far worse. 

And in line with that, my wife and I ended up playing Euchre with them on Monday evening. We drank wine, it was a nice evening. I decided to put the episode aside and not let it make things awkward. 

[Little Sherri]

I had to jump off for a work-related issue, but I wanted to add that I suspect stress from the above situation precipitated a diaper dream of sorts: I had a dream that I was staying at their house overnight (which is not an infrequent occurrence, since my buddy and I both appreciate high-octane beers), and I woke up in the morning. Somehow, I knew when I woke up that they weren't home. I decided to go down to their kitchen and see if I could find something to eat, and I ended up finding a granola bar in one of their cabinets, which I opened and began eating.

Here's the deal, though - I had slept in a girl's pull-up for some reason, and I went down to their kitchen in just that, and a shirt. I was midway through jamming that granola bar into my mouth, when I heard someone put a key into the front door. Panicked, I ran for the staircase, and I had the feeling that they were walking in behind me as I sprinted up it. I was afraid to look back, and instead, I ran into their guest bedroom, and closed the door, before pulling some shorts on. Then, I contemplated my fate: I was terrified to go down there and address them, if they'd seen me running up the stairs in a girl's pull-up, whereas if they'd just heard me run off, but hadn't seen anything, then I could probably laugh it off as my having come downstairs without pants on, thinking the house was unoccupied, which, while maybe a bit weird, would at least be understandable. I didn't know what to do, and I never got a chance to formulate a plan, because I woke up at that moment. 

In analyzing the dream, a couple of thoughts come to mind. First of all, my wearing a pull-up in the dream was weird, because I basically never wear them in real life, and certainly not to bed. Secondly, in all the diaper dreams I've ever had, the gender of whatever I was wearing never came into the picture. Most of the time, I was wearing a generic diaper - I had no idea which specific one. In the one dream I can recall where I actually identified a product, it was a Rearz Barnyard, a printed diaper, but, a gender-neutral one. 

So, why the feminine pull-up, which I got the feeling was a girls' Goodnites or similar? One theory would be that those friends of mine already know that I wear diapers - I know my buddy knows, and the episode outlined above suggests that maybe his wife knows, too. So the theory goes that being "caught" in the dream, running up their stairs in a diaper and a shirt, while undoubtedly uncomfortable and embarrassing, would not be deeply humiliating. It would just constitute a further confirmation of something they already know or strongly suspected. Whereas my running away in a girls' Goodnites pull-up raises more questions - it pulls back the lens from a strictly medical focus, and introduces an ABDL (or, if they don't know what that is, then at least a "kink") aspect.  

Thanks, brain. 

[Little Sherri]

I had a thought the other day... well, I guess that's what I do here, right? I have thoughts. I write about them. Sometimes, someone reads them. You'd think I'd have run out of thoughts by now - how much can one person write about their underwear? But here we are. Although that question as me wondering if there are sites dedicated to people who really enjoy wearing "conventional" underpants... "Really excited to be wearing boxer shorts today... I went with the dark blue ones with a black waistband..." 

But I digress. I was in the chat, talking with someone I hadn't run into for a while, when I got a text message that my dinner was here, at the exact same moment as the front door opened. I had to jump out of the chat to go eat, but, the "Oh, someone's home!" moment I experienced caused me to reflect on how different things are for me now, 4.75 years into this journey. 

In the old days, if I had the house to myself for any length of time, I would usually put a diaper on, because I immediately felt more relaxed, my mood went up several notches... you folks know the drill. Life is better in a diaper for us strange people. 

But then there would be that moment of panic when someone came through the door, particularly if it was unexpected, or, when I lost track of time and then realized that people were going to be home momentarily... crap! Grab the emergency pants! Fast-walk to the washroom, hopefully without crossing paths with anyone.

"Honey, can you come down and lift a heavy object out of my car for me?" 

Crap. Can I get away with wearing this diaper under those jeans, outside, for a few minutes?!? "Be down in a sec!" 

Dash to the washroom, diaper off, boxer shorts on, fold up diaper and jam it into a bag, stash the bag in the back of a drawer, to be smuggled out to the garage later, like a bag of heroin or a nuclear device. Lament the loss of a diaper, cut down in its prime... "Poor $5 Bambino, I only had you on for 90 minutes, you were barely damp, and now I must consign you to an early grave..." 

Whereas now, I hear the door below my office open, and I barely blink. My wife comes up the stairs, and I'm sitting in front of my computer in some big diaper, and a sweater or whatever, working away. Or, I'm in the kitchen doing some cleaning, and I'm wearing light shorts and an old t-shirt, and I know my diaper is sticking out behind me, but I don't want to reorganize my clothes with my soapy gloved hands... so I don't. 

That is perhaps the one aspect of the Covid Christmases that I'm going to miss - THAT, and nothing else: spending a week or 12 days lounging around the house, no worrying about what I'm wearing, or what I'm going to wear. This year seems like it will be a normal, busy Christmas (unless one of us tests positive, I guess...), so, I will have my in-law's staying with us, friends and family will be dropping in, we'll host a couple of dinners and a brunch, gallons of wine and beer will disappear, and, for the first half of the week, I will be strategically planning what I have on so that I'm always presentable, and never obviously diapered, when people drop by. However, the latter part of the week will probably be more relaxed, and I'll be able to strap into a Super Diaper and drink wine and watch movies without worrying about bulges or crinkles. 

[jeremy12312]

On 12/20/2023 at 10:12 AM, Little Sherri said:

my wife and I ended up playing Euchre with them

Hopefully you spent plenty of time in the barn.

[Little Sherri]

Merry Christmas everyone, and shortly, Happy New Year!

This has been a very busy Christmas, which I can't complain about, but that has prevented me from spending much time here. This is my fourth Christmas in diapers, for those who are keeping track of such things. 

After being an open book with my wife on this topic for a few years, I've gone slightly underground, as the Boxing Day sales (sort of Canadian Black Friday, but on the day after Christmas) at Rearz simply could not be ignored. But, I already have enough diapers in stock to carry me into June, so I've taken to hiding extra cases, so that they don't appear on the designated diaper shelves in the basement. 

What was not a secret, though, was how wet my diaper was last night... I was "failure testing" their Incontrol BeDry Night, which they allege is their highest-capacity diaper. I didn't get empirical about it - no kitchen scales were violated. For my first sampling, I just wanted to wear one for a day and see how it performed. The BeDry night is a hook/loop white diaper that is very similar to the Elite Hybrid - so close that I wonder whether the latter will remain in production, because the BeDry Night costs less and claims to hold more, and both are white, plastic-backed diapers. 

As expected, for a Rearz-made super diaper, it was comfortable and reliable. It swelled up quite notably in the latter part of its shift, and I got to a point after I'd been in it for 18 hours, where I questioned if I should continue. I was walking back and forth between the kitchen and the living room, fetching drinks and snacks while we watched a movie, and I was wearing a brand new pair of pajama pants I got from my kids that, befitting my slightly-less-obese current state, were not dramatically oversized. They'd been doing an okay job of concealing my diaper in a not-for-public-consumption kind of way, in the morning, but, by 3 in the afternoon, I had some junk in the trunk and legitimately could not bring my legs together. I was enveloped in a uniform dampness to the mid-buttock level, and I didn't want to leak into my new outfit, but, I also didn't want to go change my diaper - we were at a good part in the movie. 

I got up to refill my wife's wine glass, and my bourbon, and when I squeezed past her, she gave my soggy butt a smack and said "I don't care if you wear pajamas all day, but go change your bum!" That caused my cheeks to heat up involuntarily (the ones on my face), and I somewhat sheepishly slinked up the stairs, taking one last pee as I went. When I got into our bathroom, I decided to drop the pants and go sit deliberately on the toilet lid, to see if I could elicit that most common of Rearz failure's - the press-out leak. On my soft couch, the pressure distribution was uniform, but, on a hard plastic platform... would the diaper cry uncle? 

I plunked down and shifted around a bit and got up and sat down again, and then forensically examined the hard plastic seat. There were two faint moisture lines that corresponded with the leg gathers on my diaper, but, they almost could have been from sweat, and I suspected that they wouldn't have migrated to the surface of a medium-weight material, or, it would have taken some time for them to do so. The diaper was heavy, pregnant, soaked. I'd call this model a success for Rearz, although it adds yet another option to a menu replete with similar offerings. 

I binned it and put on a Critter Caboose, refilled the drinks and watched the rest of the movie. Isn't that what a diapered Christmas is about? 

[oznl]

I'm hoping that the BeDry makes it downunder so I can try it on downunder myself although a few stars need to align for this to occur.

Firstly, the solitary importer of Rearz products in Australia needs to think it's a good idea to import some.

Secondly, he needs to pass on the economy of the BeDry offering and not simply absorb (no pun intended) all of that saving as incremental revenue to be extracted from his small, recreational market.

I'm looking for something that could replace the dwindling number of free Abena L4 I have laying about that I use on weekends but also something to replace the BetterDry.  The quality of the more recent BetterDry cases does seem to have fallen a little and I'm seeing regular blow-outs.

I've only been told to change by my beloved once and she didn't use the "C" word.  She told me to "go upstairs and sort yourself out"...

 

[Little Sherri]

12 hours ago, oznl said:

I've only been told to change by my beloved once and she didn't use the "C" word.  She told me to "go upstairs and sort yourself out"...

 

Happy New Year, out there in the brave, bold future. 

I was surprised by her comment, and even more surprised that she made physical contact with my diapered area - I'd have to search back in this thread and in my memories, but her telling me to change my diaper hasn't happened very often, and her making even incidental contact with them is equally rare. I think this particular event occurred because she was drinking a bit. And I was being reckless, I guess - what the hell, I was at home, sitting on my couch. 

She's not around to tell me to get changed today, because she's headed over to a friends' place with my youngest, and plans to stay over. My eldest is also out for the night. So, in celebration, I'm wearing a Day Dreamer that's at about 50% of capacity right now. It's early afternoon here, so I have time to use up most of it before I take a shower and change and head off to an event in a more diminutive product. I'm thinking of a BeDry day rather than night model. 

I'm having vague stirrings from below and might even taken advantage of my solitude to not worry about it and just use my diaper. It's funny, though because in this new normal, watching them drive away didn't send me scurrying for my diaper stash, up in the basement ceiling, where it was in the before times. I'd have been just as happy if they were staying around. I'd probably have pants on, I guess. And if I did "go dark", I'd be compelled to change myself pretty quickly. I probably just wouldn't bother doing that...

On the topic of "the new normal", I was at my buddy's place last night, drinking beer and watching a movie with him and his wife. My wife had been there earlier, but headed home, as she planned to have a late night tonight. Whereas I am not averse to having two late nights in a row. It's the holidays. 

I was wearing a medium MegaMax, which is somewhat of an oxymoron of a diaper - the diminutive giant, the compact full-size. For whatever reason, NorthShore cuts their medium diapers a little more suitably (and generously) than most, so, their large is quite big on me, and their XL is comically huge, looking like a prop rather than a garment. But, despite being medium sized, the Meg (as I'll call it) falls into the super diaper category, while at the same time concealing fairly well under clothing. To a point. 

That point was reached as I drank maybe my 7th IPA. I went to root around in my pocket for a bill I had stuffed there earlier, and I realized while doing so, that I had not been paying attention to how I was sitting or how my clothes were arranged... and my diaper had done that super diaper trick of inflating magnificently up front. It looked a bit like I had a dead rabbit stuffed down the front of my pants. A smallish dead rabbit, but, a dead rabbit nonetheless. 

I subtly (I think...) pulled the bottom of my sweater down, partially obscuring the area, but as we chatted and poured beers and the dog ran back and forth on their giant couch, it was an exercise I kept fining myself falling behind on. I sat for a while with my wrists crossed over that area, using one arm as a fulcrum for the other, which was holding a beer stein. But after a while, I felt like I was sitting unnaturally, and was worried that I might be drawing attention to that which I was trying to conceal. Plus, the dog kept dropping a toy in front of me that he wanted me to play tug-of-war over, or throw, and whenever I leaned forward, I had concerns about a rear diaper full reveal eclipsing the front diaper-suggestive bulge. I hadn't worn a onesie because of winter clothing and not realizing when I left the house that I'd be spending hours at someone else's house. 

In the end, I just mentally shrugged. These people know I wear diapers, or, that I wear "something." I have no desire to rub it in anyone's face, but, neither is it a nuclear-codes secret anymore. Yup, the front of my pants are a bit puffy, depending on how I'm sitting... which now, on the doorstep of 2024, isn't big deal, whereas back in time, I'd have thought it could portend disaster. And when I was a kid, I would have been paralyzed with anxiety, sitting in a diaper that I thought might be detectable, on my friend's couch. I've been there, in too-light pajama pants with a muted ghost of white plastic underneath, that to my eyes at the time, glowed like a neon sign. I feel like I've taken "this" back, and worked at stripping away a lot of the anxiety and fear (though not all of it), like a cloudy finish on a piece of wooden furniture that is patiently rubbed away, to reveal the more enjoyable aspect, the fine grain, underneath. 

 

[Little Sherri]

Happy New Year, everyone. I spent last night as I hope to spend much of 2024... wearing a diaper, drinking red wine, and eating appetizers. I was at a friend's gathering, which featured a number of people who do not know that I dress like at toddler under my clothes, so, discretion was the prime directive - I wore a medium-weight plastic Rearz diaper (Lil' Splash) under a black onesie, oversized jeans, and a sweater. I was staying over for the night so had a perfect excuse to deposit my diaper bag in the upstairs bedroom, and thus was able to get changed comfortably at about 11 PM into a Barnyard, then ring in the new year, drink more wine, and go to bed slightly damp. 

The bedwetting Gods favoured me by causing the ethanol clouds to part long enough for me to realize that I needed to pee at 5 AM or so, and that I had, in fact, already started doing so, allowing me to roll onto my back and fall asleep again, knowing that the acres of dry padding out behind me were taking the fire. Apparently, I started snoring - so says the buddy of mine that I shared the room with, he on a fold-out couch. That often happens when I sleep on my back; it's better than wetting someone else's bed, I didn't say.

I have a quick funny story from earlier in the week that I forgot to recount: we were cleaning the bathrooms regularly, because we had a lot of guests over the holidays, and at one point I noticed that after I'd cleaned the toilet in younger daughter's bathroom, she had used it (#1), and then she didn't flush it - something which she's known to do from time to time. So I walked into her room and said "Sweetie, when you use the toilet, please flush it. I just cleaned that bathroom." 

To which she replied: "At least I use the toilet, dad..."

Touché. 

 

[oliver d]

Really enjoy reading your adventures ,wish my wife was as tolerant as yours.As for your daughters answer all I can say    she hit it on the head.