24/7 startups, and unexpected pitfalls?

[oliver d]

love reading your updates, I just wish that I could get to the level you have gotten on a permanent base with my vanilla wife.

[Little Sherri]

Another quick update - I'm so busy right now, but I need this mental health break in my day, and it's better for me than cracking a beer at 10:30 AM, isn't it?

- What is cool: walking around my kitchen in a t-shirt and a Mega Inspire+ (white giant Rearz diaper) after a refreshing shower, making coffee while checking emails on my phone. I still pinch myself sometimes that this is my reality. I wear diapers. There we are. 

- What is not cool: being woken up at 7 AM by my beloved, who immediately told me that, 1) I'm on with the dog, she's already late getting out, and, 2), he needs to go, because something stinks.

Groggy, I shook the wool out of my brain as I swung my legs off the bed and stretched to greet the morning... and noted a lump under me. Alarm bells started going off in the cockpit, but my wife was busy occupying both the bathroom, and our bedroom, while getting ready, and the dog was running in circles and needed to go out, and my daughter needed to be woken up (or at least, wakefulness needed to be confirmed)... there was no discrete way to deal with figuring out what was going on... was that some weird ball of SAP down there....? But already, inside me, I knew the answer. 

My Rearz Essential was also somewhat wet, I noted - not soaked, but, it had been dry when I went to bed. I had zero recollection of any dreams or even stirring throughout the night, having watched a hockey game with friends and anesthetized myself with beer the night before. 

I woke my daughter, walked the dog (with pants on), made my first cup of coffee, made toast, all while surreally noting the presence of a fairly solid, fairly small lump of something that made itself known more when I sat on it, but that was always detectable. I read the paper, distracted, sampling the air on occasion, but I couldn't detect anything objectionable. Whereas in the bedroom, there had been a slight funk. Maybe the dog had farted? 

Wife and daughter gone, older daughter still in dreamland, once I had my room to myself, I blew the hatch on my nappy... and discovered that, yup, I had dropped a nugget a little bigger than a golf ball in my diaper overnight. Which made no sense. Had it been a catastrophic blowout, I could have blamed the wings I'd eaten the night before, for example... but this, this, had clearly not been done in urgency. 

I had no dreams that I can recall, but, I also have no history of fecal incontinence, soooo... I have to assume that my subconscious decided to prank me, and that although I didn't recall it, I had, at some point, in a dream, willed myself to poop in my diaper? A very little bit? 

I took a shower, and binned the Essential, even though it was only moderately wet, per the dictates of Protocol #2 . Then I put on this Inspire+ and a t-shirt, and went downstairs to have a coffee and think about I'd done while I was asleep. So weird. 

Side note: I was looking at the varying prints on my stash of Pampers Baby-Dry size 8's when I realized that the diapers actually said "Back" on the top of them at the back, in funky writing - just like some pull-ups do. I compared them with some size 7's I have, and they do not say "back" on them. The size 8's also had a picture of two buttons on the front, in the center of the waistband... then, it occurred to me: they might be acknowledging that people who wear diapers that big could be putting them on themselves, ergo the helpful cues, versus the smaller sizes, which would pretty much universally be handled by someone who didn't need to be told which side was the back. Interesting. 

[diapered 4 ever]

Seems you owe someone (floofy with extra legs and a tail) for covering up your surprise 'butt nugget'   

Maybe lunch... Sheppy's love steak subs from SubWay.  ❤️ 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I had a near-miss today that caused me to consider at least one of the implications of this diapered life more closely... background: I was (and am) wearing a fairly heavy BeDry Elitecare, and I had to run an errand that would not, in theory, require getting out of the car. I've been burned by this situation before, but this time, I was not pulling up in front of a friend's place, I was dropping someone off at a business. It's a very warm day up here for this latitude in early May, so I pulled on a light pair of athletic shorts I had with me as back up - I'd been happily working the day away in just my diaper. 

I jumped into the car, ran the errand (dropped a kid off at dance), and then I was on my way home when, apropos of nothing, a donkey in a full-size pickup truck came flying out of a side street, totally ignoring a stop sign. I screamed out loud and made a wild evasive maneuver that took me into the thankfully-unoccupied-at-that-moment opposite lane, and then the guy behind me went into a skid and drove up onto the boulevard, all so that the idiot in the newish white GMC Sierra could, I don't know, look at a text message or something. 

I came out of it unscathed, but, at best, had he caught me as I was evading him, I would have then been sentenced to a roadside conversation with a moron, followed by a roadside conversation with a cop or three, and, a tow truck driver, plus my insurance company, in a giant, barely-concealed diaper. At worst, I could have been thrown into opposite traffic or spun into an obstacle or something - cars do crazy things at 70 kph when you introduce sudden lateral acceleration from a 7000-lb object. And that would have left me wearing a bulging, soaked, oversized, but at least not, say, pink, diaper, under thin shorts, while being asked about if I feel like I can stand up by myself or not, by friendly EMS technicians. 

"Sir, we're going to cut your clothes off..."

"No, I choose death over that. No cutting my clothes off." 

More robust shorts are called for when driving, is what I'm saying. At least that. 

[FretaBWet]

This is the reason I don't wear ABDL diapers when I'm out of the house, you just never know what can happen. I've gone to the hospital twice in an ambulance in a heavily soaked Confidry 24/7. I wasn't embarrassed, I need diapers, but I couldn't say that if I were wearing something like a critter caboose.

Hugs,

Freta

[oznl]

On 5/2/2024 at 1:15 AM, Little Sherri said:

I had no dreams that I can recall, but, I also have no history of fecal incontinence, soooo... I have to assume that my subconscious decided to prank me, and that although I didn't recall it, I had, at some point, in a dream, willed myself to poop in my diaper? A very little bit? 
 

I'm curious as to what is happening here.  For the most part, our trajectories have been markedly similar but here there is divergence.

As you know, despite efforts to maintain #2 control (in the interests of maintaining sociability and marriage), there has been some loss of control but that always has been associated with GI disturbances.  It's definitely been "urgency" rather than "overflow" when it's happened and there's been a veritable mariachi band of physical sensations heralding the imminent requirement for an immediate nappy change.  It seems almost inconceivable to me that I'd sleep through such an event.  This is in marked contrast to #1 which, on rare occasion, I've caught happening only through the sensations at the front of my nappy.

I wonder if this somehow keys in to something that we subconsciously want but have done a superb job of repressing (because on the face of things, I'd tell you that I do NOT want such a thing although I'm quite unafraid of full nappies and do on occasion allow them to occur).

Maybe we don't know what we want.

Actually, minor update, I've "sharted" in a night nappy without realising it a couple of times but it's never been enough to physically advertise its presence come morning.  It's just been a slightly unpleasant surprise at changing time.

[Little Sherri]

6 hours ago, oznl said:

I wonder if this somehow keys in to something that we subconsciously want but have done a superb job of repressing (because on the face of things, I'd tell you that I do NOT want such a thing although I'm quite unafraid of full nappies and do on occasion allow them to occur).

My subconscious is turning against me if this is the case. I definitely do not want this aspect of the diapered life. I've managed to get this far without needing a divorce lawyer, plus, I find the cleanup arduous. I've leaned into the "convenience" of being taped into a restroom on occasion, but generally it's been because I've found myself uncomfortable, and the now-discomfort outweighed the later-inconvenience of the, as you've so aptly described it, agricultural cleanup. 

I've had an upset tummy shart before - on one occasion, my being in a diaper surely saved the linens - but that was attributable directly to something that had disagreed with me. The tiny nugget in question was not dropped in haste or in deference to fluid dynamics. There would have been more of it. The cleanup, at least, was minimal. 

Also, I've more or less explained this strange compulsion to myself via referencing my childhood nappy experiences, and something about this being a second go at it on my terms, because I both loved and hated it the first time around, and exhuming and reburying trauma and other psychological processes I can describe but not really explain, because, hey, putting yourself back in diapers is not an entirely rational act. 

But I never pooped my pants as a kid. Not since the dawn of my memories. I do recall removing my nappy and pooping on the floor once - no idea why I did that, I think I was 3 - but while I know I blasted Pampers with the best of them when I was under 36 inches tall, I never did that in my later childhood - it simply would have been humiliating. I never thought to test out if it felt good until much, much later, when I was making my own as a 'tween and early teen. At age 8, nothing about having a load in my diaper appealed to me. 

So why now? Weird. 

In other "news", I got complemented on my diaper this morning. I had just gotten up and was in the bathroom brushing my teeth, when daughter #1, newly returned from a cosmopolitan existence away at school, and once again suffering the indignities of sharing a household with us peons, came into our bedroom and into our washroom, to retrieve a bottle of something or other - I think she said "missile water", which I'm sure costs $17.95 and does something incredible to your complexion. 

Anyway, younger daughter had been using it in our bathroom (they like our shower better), and elder daughter skidded in without a knock, although the door was open because I was only brushing my teeth. 

"Swanky diaper..." she said in passing, in reference to my Rearz Daydreamer which was, mercifully, bone dry - they have a transparent cover and keep no secrets. 

[jeremy12312]

On 5/2/2024 at 5:24 PM, Little Sherri said:

Sir, we're going to cut your clothes off..."

"No, I choose death over that. No cutting my clothes off." 

Hah. I broke my leg once while out and about after slipping on a glaze iced sidewalk. Of course I was wearing a printed diaper. 

At the hospital, “We need you to take off your pants for the x-ray.”

Me: “Um, no.”

They probably thought I wasn’t wearing underwear at all, because I just kept saying I wasn’t comfortable removing my pants. Eventually they came up with a pair of some kind of hospital shorts, and we carried on. 

 

 

[Little Sherri]

On 5/4/2024 at 9:20 AM, jeremy12312 said:

Of course I was wearing a printed diaper. 

So you've been there! This is one of my nightmares. Although I guess if I've just been hit by a bus or whatever, maybe the colour of my underpants becomes a secondary consideration. But a broken leg... in that circumstance, I'd be lucid enough to be forced into a confrontation with my choices, I guess. I think that I could put my head down and get through it if I just had a white plastic diaper on, but if it was unicorns or friendly monsters... not sure. I've found my diaper "on stage", so to speak, a couple of times in medical scenarios, but it was either a plain white diaper (when I was given a transparent disposable gown for an MRI during the height of the pandemic), or an abysmal grey pull-up when I was unexpectedly asked to undress by a urologist and his resident. In the latter case, I was almost more embarrassed about how sad my diaper was, than about the fact of being in a diaper, itself... "Look," I wanted to say, "I have much better diapers than this at home, I only wore this because I want it to not be noteworthy...". It's like having to take your shoes off somewhere and the realizing your socks have holes in them. 

A couple of other notes... I vaguely recall waking up last night, while lying on my back and wetting my diaper - a cascade down one of my hips is what caused me to return to consciousness. I put my hand down there but no moisture was escaping - it was being conducted down to the padding in the back half of the diaper, at my hip. Good job, BeDry Night. I fell back asleep. 

Also, I had that now-familiar latchkey scenario play out again, but this time, inconveniently, at someone else's house. We were watching a hockey game at a friend's, and it went terribly, and we had more beers than originally planned while conducting the post mortem. I was already booked into another buddy's guest bedroom for the night, but I reached a point in my diaper's lifecycle where I didn't fully trust it anymore, but, we were only a few minutes from leaving (I thought), so I decided to consciously not use it for a bit... and then an extra beer and a sip of Scotch were added to the mix... and my judgement was already a bit underwater. 

Finally, the rideshare arrived, we were conveyed back to his place, and we parted ways in his front hall, he going up to his room, and I going down to mine. As soon as we'd come through the door, I'd erupted in my diaper, and was trying to choke off a glorious wee that would not be denied, so I was glad he didn't pitch one more pint before lights-out. 

I could feel "pooling" down there and I've already been to this movie before, so I dropped my shorts as soon as I got to the bottom of the stairs, and stepped into the bathroom just as a stream laced down my inner thigh. I duck-walked over to the toilet, and finished the job by sitting down and continuing to pee in my diaper - pulling "mini me" out would have led to some cleanup. I then read some news on my phone until the dripping below me trailed off, then I peeled the sodden garment off and bagged it. Only a few droplets had made it to the floor, but my thighs were wet and the toilet seat needed to be cleaned. 

Not that this is a new experience for me, but it's always interesting, in an academic way, to lose control of a function that you more or less take for granted... don't get me wrong, I know I'm abusing that functionality daily - even right now as I type this - by dribbling freely into my pants every 20 minutes or so. But, other than when I'm asleep, I really don't lose control very often. However I was definitely out of control in that moment - there was no stopping it. 

 

[Little Sherri]

Still busy as hell over here. Still grateful to be wearing diapers every day. I think I'm running into the conundrum that it can be hard to come up with something to write about every day - some people I follow do it once a week or so, and maybe that makes more sense, but I tend to try to get on here for at least a few minutes every day - let's call it "me time" and often I am then compelled to say something, even if it isn't particularly noteworthy. I guess today is no exception...

- Summer-ish weather is here and I'm enjoying wearing shorts more of the time, although we still get evening swings down into bring-a-jacket territory. I'm trying to resist turning on the A/C in the house because at night it's nice and fresh out. That has the consequence of the windows being open more, which is nice, but I have to be cognizant that possibility when I'm walking around the house in just a diaper and a shirt, as is often the case later in the evening once the kids have retired or if it's just my wife and I in our room. The trees around us don't yet have their full payload of leaves, and if I can clearly see over to my neighbour's property, then the inverse of that is also probably true. I pull the curtains across the window - plenty of air still gets in - but my wife sometimes throws them open again while I'm out of the room or in the bathroom, and then I walk in and realize I'm backlit in a big ABDL diaper against the blackness of the night, as observed from a swath of my neighbour's property that will eventually be completely obscured by vegetation. But not yet. 

- Speaking of unobscured views, I had to tell my younger daughter to delete pictures she took of me; I had jammed myself into an absurd position, trying to free up a lamp cord from under a bedside dresser, on my wife's side of our bed, without pulling out the bed, since it has storage containers under it containing offseason clothing, and never goes back without some fiddling. Ergo, I was at a 45-degree angle, feet on the ground, chest and head pressed into the mattress where it meets the headboard, arm obscured up to my shoulder in the crevice between the bed and the dresser, coaxing a cord that was hung up on something, when I head "Dad, what are you doing!?!" from behind me - my daughter had come into our room to get something from our bathroom. "Trying to free up mom's lamp cord so I can fix the switch..." I grunted. 

"You look like you've died or something, jammed in the corner like that!" she said, and then I heard the digital camera noise that a phone makes when it takes a picture. 

"Er, what are you doing?"

"Taking a picture - you look hilarious."

"Can I see the pictures, please?" (There is always more than one...)

"Why? I'm not going to send them to anyone. I just want to show (eldest)." 

"I'd like to see the pictures..."

She comes over and shows me her phone, and sure enough, there's three photos of me contorting myself into the headboard like I'd been fired into that corner from a cannon. And in all three pictures, my shirt is way up, and a wide strip of white diaper plastic is clearly visible (I'd been wearing a Rearz Select). 

"Please delete those..."

"I'm not going to show anyone..."

"I'd like them deleted because I know you and your friends flip through each other's photos for entertainment all the time, and I don't want to be part of that entertainment. "

"Fine."

In other "news", I walked into our bedroom, alongside our dog, a bit later in the evening, still in that Rearz Select, when my wife looked over at me and said, "Hello, Mister Wet!", causing me to startle briefly, until I realized that she was talking to the dog, who had just come in from outside, where it was raining. I, too, was wet at that point - I was at the "Should I change this unreliable diaper" TSN turning point, in my mind. 

[Little Sherri]

Not that I ever doubted this, but I discovered today that there is a phenomenon called "Daily Diaper withdrawal", at least for me. My browser went crazy and wouldn't let me post anything here for the last 24 hours - I could read anything I wanted to, and log in, and the chat worked, but this field I'm currently writing this in didn't exist on any of the threads, nor in the mail function - I couldn't even write to tech support for help. It was like a blind guy searching for his glasses, or needed a phone to call the phone company to fix my phone. 

@DailyDishould have a 1-888 number, is what I'm saying. I even downloaded Firefox, thinking it was a Chrome issue, and knowing that Edge also runs the same backend, Edge doing it too didn't surprise me. In the end, I cleared my cache, and I *think* that fixed it? Not sure. Maybe @oznlwould have a theory - I'm not technical in this regard. If you need to unload bitumen from a railcar, I'm your guy. Troubleshoot a web browser... this is why my wife and kids have Apple computers. Because they require very little tech support.

[superabsorbantpolymer]

It's not your browser, the site was in "maintenance mode" for some time yesterday, and several features were broken after it came back up. I experienced the same issues you describe 😊 

[oznl]

20 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

Maybe @oznlwould have a theory - I'm not technical in this regard. If you need to unload bitumen from a railcar, I'm your guy. Troubleshoot a web browser... this is why my wife and kids have Apple computers. Because they require very little tech support.

As @superabsorbantpolymer mentioned, I also noticed that the site was down for a while for an upgrade.  I suspect any links that included any kind of session component would have gotten broken because those sessions would have gotten terminated during the restart.

You can also be left with residual problems whereby web site content that your browser is caching (to avoid the latency of repetitive downloading) ends up out of sync or obsolete relative to the new instance of the site that is running. 

It’s a bit like your browser is attempting to resume a conversation but doesn’t know that whilst it wasn’t looking, the other half of that conversation got replaced with a new replicant who wasn’t actually a party to the earlier conversation the browser is referring to.  Weird stuff happens.

One or more of logging out/in, forcing a page reload or even clearing your browser cache should fix those.  Just another version of “turning it off and on again”

[Little Sherri]

Happy Mother's Day, everyone. I got up and made an espresso for my wife, while enjoying lounging around in a soggy Critter Caboose under some light shorts. When I went to bed, it was mostly dry, so I must have wet it overnight, but I have no recollection of doing so. 

I noted an interesting phenomenon this morning, not for the first time, but I don't think I've written about it before, and it made me curious as to how the bladder works, and how I am perhaps subverting that via putting myself back into diapers full-time. As most of us diapernauts do, I tend to dribble here and there rather than holding it until a heavier voiding incident is required, because diapers just last longer that way - flooding leads to overwhelming the absorbance of the stuffing locally, which leads to rivers, which can sometimes lead to leaks, even when there is still a lot of capacity left. I've had a diaper leak at a leg gather on the first wetting, and I've had diapers not emit a droplet after 14 hours of use. Obviously, the latter is the preferred mode of operation. 

This morning, I woke up in my somewhat soggy diaper, went and made coffee, drank some, read the paper, and then felt the stirrings of a #2 requirement. I did briefly consider that I needn't worry too much about it, because my wife and kids were packing up to go visit her mom, but then I pictured myself idly reading the paper while sitting on a load, and knew that I'd be compelled to change myself within a half hour, and that doing so would probably take a half hour, and involve a shower, and, consigning a somewhat pricey super diaper to an early grave. So I carefully removed the Caboose from my caboose, and did the needful. 

Now, when I engage in nature's act #2, inevitably, some of nature's act #1 occurs - it's just how I'm wired, and I assume most people experience the same thing. I can wee with abandon and not invite any synchronicity from the #2 department, unless I'm at Defcon 5 back there,  but any attempt at #2 brings #1 along with it. So, I tinkled as well. I then got up and put my somewhat pendulous diaper back on, and proceeded to brush my teeth, during which, I suddenly felt a need to pee, and did so... but I was curious as to why that was the case. Yes, brushing my teeth can be a precipitating event for me - I often pee a little bit when I do that, just as I sometimes do when I have the dog out and he pees, or, strangely, when I'm putting my shoes on or taking them off - that may be echoes of the "latchkey" phenomenon people talk about. And I often pee a little bit when I get home, even if I'm not desperate to, and if I am at all desperate, unlocking my front door makes me about as close to incontinent as I'm ever likely to experience, unless I have a stroke or go get incontinence surgery in Mexico. 

But in this case, I had just gone pee, so I was, and am, curious as to where that need sprang from. 

 

[Three Rivers]

I can tell you that on several occasions for me anymore, it happens. Sitting on the toilet doing my business (#2) and either I pee a little or nothing at all. Then as I stand up, I now have to go pee. Maybe an internal clamping mechanism acting funny, just strange at times this happens.

 

[Little Sherri]

I'm transplanting this over from a thread that @Enthusi started elsewhere, because I meant to mention it here, but forgot. I think it's significant enough to warrant inclusion in this journal of my strange journey.

One thing I've been working on is getting over the stigma surrounding wearing diapers as a non-baby. I was changing winter rims over to summers with a buddy of mine who knows I wear diapers, and at one point I was bent over pushing on a torque wrench and I felt a cool breeze on my lower back, and instantly had a slight feeling of panic, because he was standing right there, watching me. I shook it off - reaching back there would only draw attention to it, anyway. Then, he went off to get a tool, giving me a moment to put my hand back there while still in my original position, and sure enough, there was a strip of white plastic above my shorts and below the hem of my shirt. Which shouldn't have been surprising, since his boxers were hanging out when he was likewise bent over. 

I had the urge to stand up and tuck everything in, but I stifled it - unless I went inside and put on a onesie, it was just going to happen again - we still had three more wheels to change. I went back to what I was doing, and he came walking back over with the tool we needed, and a beer for me as well, and we carried on. I chose not to be ashamed of my diaper. 

Although admittedly, it was a white diaper - had it been something with pink bunnies on it I probably would have been a lot more self-conscious...

[FretaBWet]

This seems like positive progress. If you're in diapers because you need them, shame serves no good purpose. It's a good balance between discretion and not being paranoid.

Hugs,

Freta

[oznl]

15 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

But in this case, I had just gone pee, so I was, and am, curious as to where that need sprang from.

I'm noticing an elevating level of general dislocation between bladder sensation and bladder fullness.  I'm just not sure if this is because of living in nappies for 5 years or advancing age.  I'm still not experiencing incontinence as such it seems to be getting harder to know what's going on down there.

15 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

I can wee with abandon and not invite any synchronicity from the #2 department, unless I'm at Defcon 5 back there, 

My capacity to do this has degraded - possibly back to Defcon 3.

[Little Sherri]

I'm in a BeDry Night that I've been "dry" in since last night. Although I woke up dry, so the shift really started at 7 am when I got out of bed. I have to hand it to this diaper - they remind me a lot of the vaunted NorthShore MegaMax, in that they start out at relatively discrete proportions, and then inflate in proportion to what they get asked to carry. 

It takes me a while to get tired of having a damp bottom if my diaper is comfy, and I'm only just starting to look forward to my shower. However, both kids are in the queue in front of me, so I will continue to marinade until probably about the time I put this diaper on yesterday. Pretty impressive. No leaks, yet, either, although it's feeling damp from stem to stern. 

It could be funny if I retire to our bedroom and lounge in this soggy diaper while my wife once again watches her British baking show, depending on what they're making. Yesterday, for about the fourth or fifth time that I've noticed (and I don't watch her watch this show that often), they were going on about soggy bottoms again - this time for tartes. The judges went along, turning them over, and saying "No soggy bottom there, excellent.... none here either, four stars... oooh, now there's a soggy bottom for you, nobody likes a soggy bottom, do they?" 

As I sat there (last night) in a soggy Critter Caboose. 

I had a "I hope this diaper isn't obvious" moment this evening when a random grey Mazda did a drive past my house, then backed up, and backed into our driveway. I was wearing this diaper - the BeDry - and a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, because it got a bit humid this afternoon - echoes of things to come, hopefully. The kids are bugging me to open the pool, but I keep pointing out that it's still going down into the single digits at night. "But we don't swim at night!" they retort, however, in order to have a warm pool during the day, my gas account has to do battle with the infinite blackness of space, sucking up infrared radiation that I'm paying for. 

But I digress - the lady in the car actually did work for a utility, although none I owe money to - she was looking for an address to fix their internet connection. I felt slightly exposed as I waddled up the driveway, tugging my t-shirt down compulsively like I did when I was 9, hoping it cast a longer shadow than it probably did. I did that thing where I stood and watched her drive out, rather than turning around and waddling away, because I thought that she might detect the 5 lbs of wet SAP I have tapped to my butt. 

In other diaper news, I do wonder what my kids are either, A, watching, or, B, doing, because they yelled at me from upstairs just now...

"What are you doing, Dad - snorting blow all over the bathroom?!?"

"Uh, no... what?!?"

"There's baby powder all over the place, Dad - it looks like someone had a cocaine party in here!"

"I've never been to one of those, but I'll take it under advisement...."

[Little Sherri]

So, I decided to get a little scientific. I very much enjoyed wearing that BeDry Night for 24 hours, and it didn't leak on me, although it was damp from stem to stern, and sagging pendulously, when I dropped it to take my shower. Honestly, it looked like among the wettest diapers I have ever worn that didn't betray me.

They're allegedly rated to 12,000 ml of capacity, but I know that unless I'm on an epic bender that would likely have me waking up in an ICU, I am not drinking, or putting out, anywhere near that amount, in 24 hours. I am but a man. 

SO, I was very curious as to how much fluid that diaper had within it. I decided to risk the ire of my beloved, and sneak it down to the kitchen and weigh it, after I took a shower and put on a fresh diaper. Weighing a diaper while wearing a diaper, in your kitchen, in low light, feels particularly clandestine, as an aside. I bagged it for hygienic purposes. The bag weighed a few grams so I am not counting it. 

The diaper weighed in at... 5.1 lbs, minus, again a few grams for the weight of the dry product. 

So... that soaked BeDry Night, which was wet from front to back, and very badly wanted to drop to the ground (although the tabs held fast, as Rearz tabs tend to), contained somewhere around 2300 ml - 2.3 KG - of fluid. Again, I am not critiquing the product; I rode one $4 diaper for 24 hours and it did not dampen my clothes, my belongings, or give me diaper rash. 

What I'm critiquing is whatever wizardry is employed to derive the ISO ratings they all quote. Are you telling me that I could have gotten 5 X as much liquid into that diaper, without completely immersing myself while wearing it? What would I have been able to do afterwards, other than watch water sluice down my legs into vast puddles around my feet? Once I stopped dripping, would it have weighed 12 kg? 26.45 lbs?!? I think not. I may have to test this once I open my pool, although I am loath to sacrifice a $4 diaper. 

Do they calculate the 12,000 ml capacity by weighing a basin of water, then soaking the diaper for a half hour, then removing it in one quick pull, and then, weighing not the diaper, but rather, how much water remains in the basin, and subtracting? 

[jeremy12312]

I would doubt their system involves a physical test at all, but rather a theoretical calculation about the maximum absorption per gram of SAP. 

[Little Sherri]

I noted again this morning that watching the dog pee sometimes triggers me to also pee... interesting. I've been logging these "events", out of curiosity into what habits I may have developed somewhat unconsciously, although whenever one starts paying attention to phenomena that one imagines one would otherwise be unaware of, as in quantum physics, the particles can start acting like they know they are being watched. However, I felt an urge to pee when the dog did so on the lawn, and I felt an urge to pee when I brushed my teeth, even though I had just gone #2 on the potty and had discharged some #1 incidental to that. I also noted a "latchkey" event last night when I got home from a pub, wherein I peed as soon as I got up to my front door. 

Speaking of that, a root cause analysis of the events logged herein leads me to this conclusion: one of the chinks in my armor is, staying out later and drinking more than I intended to, and not being interested in removing myself from the revelry in order to walk out to my car and get a diaper and walk back into the bar and change my diaper in the bathroom, and then rejoin my friends. Or, be the guy who always has a bag with him, which I sort of already am, anytime we go anywhere for more than a few hours. But I hate having a bag at a bar - there is no good place to put it, particularly if you're sitting on a stool rather than a chair - at least you can hang stuff off the back of a chair. 

The above circumstances have led me to then decide, when my decision-making faculties have been eroded by soaking them in IPA, that I'll stop free-form weeing in my nappy, and just hold it for the last few minutes, as I'm sure I'll be leaving almost immediately.... then, another round is ordered, or the waitress or bartender takes forever to bring the bill, or whatever, and I end up with pee dampening my jeans or my socks, when I stumble out of the Uber or however I got myself home (I never drive under such circumstances). 

SO, I can either stop staying later and drinking more than I had planned to, which sounds like a recipe for sadness, OR, I can upsize my diaper, or, change it preemptively, earlier in the evening, when I'm not as inebriated and more likely to pull of a clandestine diaper swap without attracting attention. Because sooner or later, soaking my pants in my own front entranceway is going to turn into soaking my pants while standing with my buddies outside the bar, at a friend's front door. Holding it is dangerous for me these days, because while I can hold it very effectively, when I reach the point where it gets away from me, there is no reigning that in - it's happening and I am just a powerless bystander. 

So I need to be more proactive about this, to ward off that eventuality. The problem is, I'm cheap, fundamentally, so I don't want to discard a diaper before it's time, when half the time, I don't overstay my diaper capacity, and I get home fine, and needn't have introduced one more diaper into the day's allotment. The solution for that is better long-term planning, I guess. Sigh. Wearing diapers was so much easier when someone else worried about how many I needed in a day. 

Meanwhile, my wife came home at some point this weekend or early this week, with two more bottles of baby powder for me, or, at least partially for me, because I will note the following: I seem to have started a trend in my household. I started buying diaper cream and baby powder on the regular, 5 years ago when I started wearing diapers all the time. Gradually, buying them became something my wife does when she goes shopping - I never asked her to, but, she's been doing it, usually when she sees them on special. And so, she tends to buy a couple at a time, ergo, she's been storing them on a shelf in our linen closet where extra bottles of shampoo and hand soap and deodorant are stockpiled. That shelf is public domain, so, now my kids seem to be using diaper cream and baby powder at least some of the time - I'm not sure for what. There is usually an open container of each on the shelf in their bathroom, although their consumption rate is lower than mine.

I'm not that surprised about the baby powder - when I was a kid, my sister used to floof (I just made that word up) it down the front of her shirt with abandon, whereas I studiously avoided using it when I wasn't in a diaper, because to me, it made me smell like diapers, and I was worried that someone around me would draw an inference, even though I actually quite liked the smell back then. But the diaper cream... not sure. But they smear all kinds of fantastical tinctures on their faces, so maybe it's taking a decade off the tops of their feet? Who knows. 

[Little Sherri]

I was golfing yesterday, and dribbling away while sipping a $12 beer. As an aside, golf is perhaps the only venue where they actively encourage you to drink while operating a motorized vehicle. Anyway, I got to thinking to myself as I walked past a port-o-let baking in the sun, that I really don't know if I could go back at this point. I mean, I'm sure I could regain my bladder's tone and capacity, eventually, if I really had to, but, what I mean is, if I had to give up diapers, cold turkey (I'll have to look up the origins of that expression, I've never understood it beyond knowing what it's supposed to mean...), I'd be pretty useless for a while. I'd be stopping to go pee every 45 minutes or so. How would I play golf? How would I drive to other cities? How would I fly anywhere or get any work done at my desk? How would I relax in bed and watch TV with my wife, if I didn't have a competent diaper on? How would I sleep? 

It wouldn't be impossible, but it would be difficult. 

One thing I wish I could remember, but I'd be making it up if I said I did, was how I slept those first few days or weeks when I stopped wearing diapers to bed completely... it would have been the fall of 1988, I think. I have a vague recollection of not sleeping well during earlier experiments with weaning me off of my infantile overnight underpants, which barely fit anymore, at that point, but on those earlier occasions, there was no certainty as to what the outcome would be. My parents would resolve that "the time had come" (as it did a few times...), and that they'd wake me up in the middle of the night, and no more drinks after dinner, etc, and maybe I'd go a night or two without an incident, but then the bedding would be turning in the laundry machine for a few days in a row, and I'd yawn deeply at the dinner table, and one of them would say, "I think you could use a good night's sleep tonight, and it's not your fault that your body isn't ready yet..." And out would come the rectangle of white plastic, discretely hidden in my folded pajamas, when it was time to get ready for bed. 

But on that last goodbye to baby pants forever (or not, as it turns out...), I'd been dry for a while - I was having only a couple of accidents here and there, and then I went maybe 6 or 10 days, and then they said, hey, I think maybe you can wear your "big boy underwear" to bed tonight... it's worth a shot... and then, that's it, I didn't really look back. Had I been more tactical, I probably should have wet the bed, or my diaper, every couple of days, thus extending my access to free boxes of my coveted secret loves, but, part of me wanted to make my parents proud, and to be able to go to camps and to sleepovers with abandon, and to finally be an equal to my sister and brother, who had been sleeping without protection for years. So, I rolled with it, and it took me a few months to realize that I really missed wearing diapers sometimes, and I've told the story before about how I, like many of you here, then started crafting my own. 

But I don't remember if I slept well or if I was apprehensive, those first few nights spent not ensconced in taped-on white plastic. I sure as hell would be apprehensive now!

[Little Sherri]

I've written before about *slightly* expanding my comfort zone with respect to people knowing that I wear unconventional underpants. This, purely in the medical sense, mind you - I've resigned myself to the fact that if you're going to wear nappies all the time, everywhere, for 5 years, sooner or later, someone might catch wind of it, but, whereas I'm willing to let that leg under my dignity buckle a bit, I am not interested in coupling "so, that guys wears diapers..." to "because of some unfulfilled childhood need or something...", preferring to leave it in the "leaky plumbing" list of probable explanations. 

I ran smack into the possibility of that circle expanding unexpectedly this week. This falls into the "caveat emptor" category, under my assertion that you can never plan for all eventualities. Somewhere, at some point in time, a staid businessman was on the toilet, when the plane they were riding in went into a dive, and they were pinned against the ceiling by negative G's for what felt like an eternity but was probably 17 seconds, and then they fell, hit their head on the counter, got concussed, and woke up being tended to in an aisle, having been dragged out of the lavatory by flight attendants, with their fishnet stockings still around their legs, above their suit pants, which were around their ankles. How can you plan for that?

SO it went that I was cutting my lawn, while my neighbour was out doing the same thing, and we waved to each other as we went along. I was in standard lawn cutting gear - clothes that will be thrown into the laundry, and I was wearing a big, wet diaper - a Rearz Critter Caboose. I'd been in it for a good part of the day, but I was going to shower and throw my clothes in the laundry after the chores were completed, so it didn't make sense to change beforehand - if it leaked, it would leak on a vinyl seat that gets rained on with some frequency. Because of getting on and off the tractor and crawling under it and previously walking my property with a week whacker, the diaper was doing that thing where some of the stuffing falls down into the middle and rear of it, but, no problem, it was destined for the bin shortly, anyway. 

Since I was seated on the diaper the entire time, I had no qualms about drive-by social contact. 

Until, a tire went on the front of the tractor as I was "edging" over an embankment. It didn't explode - it had probably been leaking for a while - but I noticed it when I couldn't reverse back up the embankment edge, because the blown tire had lowered my ride height so that the cutting deck was grounding out, causing the rear tires to spin uselessly. I was sitting there, trying to figure out what to do, when my neighbour waved again, and then I saw that he saw the position I was stuck in, and planned to drive around from his side of the fence, over to mine, to assist. 

That's when I considered what I was wearing: an old pair of draw-string cotton shorts and a t-shirt. Climbing off the tractor, I realized that I had a very substantial lump of damp stuffing under my derriere - a quick tactile inspection confirmed that it probably looked like I had a midsized dead rabbit down the back of my pants. Plus, the waistband of a Critter Caboose is not subtle, should it have made an appearance while we were heaving my tractor back up onto level ground. 

I therefore bolted for the garage, as though I'd just realized I'd left a pot on the stove. I have a crash kit on a shelf in there consisting of a couple of Tranquility ATN's in a nondescript bag - I've been trapped in my garage before in a big ABDL diaper under light or no clothes, when my in-laws have showed up on the driveway unexpectedly, which begat my practice of always having emergency shorts within reach, and, a low cost, lightweight diaper option within easy access without requiring me to go back into the house.

Caboose binned, Tranquility taped haphazardly on, shorts back up, I ran back out, in time to see my neighbour pondering the position of my tractor. I told him I'd gone to the garage for better gloves, and then he & I got the tractor back up onto level ground, and then I pumped up the tire and finished the job. I tucked my t-shirt in and I don't think he was any the wiser, but had a strip of white plastic made an appearance during our exertions, I could have dealt with that, psychologically, whereas the toddler-in-a-loaded-diaper look I was sporting previously was a bridge too far. 

Onesies are going to come back into fashion for lawn work, methinks. 

[PuraVidaDip]

39 minutes ago, Little Sherri said:

I've written before about *slightly* expanding my comfort zone with respect to people knowing that I wear unconventional underpants. This, purely in the medical sense, mind you - I've resigned myself to the fact that if you're going to wear nappies all the time, everywhere, for 5 years, sooner or later, someone might catch wind of it, but, whereas I'm willing to let that leg under my dignity buckle a bit, I am not interested in coupling "so, that guys wears diapers..." to "because of some unfulfilled childhood need or something...", preferring to leave it in the "leaky plumbing" list of probable explanations. 

I ran smack into the possibility of that circle expanding unexpectedly this week. This falls into the "caveat emptor" category, under my assertion that you can never plan for all eventualities. Somewhere, at some point in time, a staid businessman was on the toilet, when the plane they were riding in went into a dive, and they were pinned against the ceiling by negative G's for what felt like an eternity but was probably 17 seconds, and then they fell, hit their head on the counter, got concussed, and woke up being tended to in an aisle, having been dragged out of the lavatory by flight attendants, with their fishnet stockings still around their legs, above their suit pants, which were around their ankles. How can you plan for that?

SO it went that I was cutting my lawn, while my neighbour was out doing the same thing, and we waved to each other as we went along. I was in standard lawn cutting gear - clothes that will be thrown into the laundry, and I was wearing a big, wet diaper - a Rearz Critter Caboose. I'd been in it for a good part of the day, but I was going to shower and throw my clothes in the laundry after the chores were completed, so it didn't make sense to change beforehand - if it leaked, it would leak on a vinyl seat that gets rained on with some frequency. Because of getting on and off the tractor and crawling under it and previously walking my property with a week whacker, the diaper was doing that thing where some of the stuffing falls down into the middle and rear of it, but, no problem, it was destined for the bin shortly, anyway. 

Since I was seated on the diaper the entire time, I had no qualms about drive-by social contact. 

Until, a tire went on the front of the tractor as I was "edging" over an embankment. It didn't explode - it had probably been leaking for a while - but I noticed it when I couldn't reverse back up the embankment edge, because the blown tire had lowered my ride height so that the cutting deck was grounding out, causing the rear tires to spin uselessly. I was sitting there, trying to figure out what to do, when my neighbour waved again, and then I saw that he saw the position I was stuck in, and planned to drive around from his side of the fence, over to mine, to assist. 

That's when I considered what I was wearing: an old pair of draw-string cotton shorts and a t-shirt. Climbing off the tractor, I realized that I had a very substantial lump of damp stuffing under my derriere - a quick tactile inspection confirmed that it probably looked like I had a midsized dead rabbit down the back of my pants. Plus, the waistband of a Critter Caboose is not subtle, should it have made an appearance while we were heaving my tractor back up onto level ground. 

I therefore bolted for the garage, as though I'd just realized I'd left a pot on the stove. I have a crash kit on a shelf in there consisting of a couple of Tranquility ATN's in a nondescript bag - I've been trapped in my garage before in a big ABDL diaper under light or no clothes, when my in-laws have showed up on the driveway unexpectedly, which begat my practice of always having emergency shorts within reach, and, a low cost, lightweight diaper option within easy access without requiring me to go back into the house.

Caboose binned, Tranquility taped haphazardly on, shorts back up, I ran back out, in time to see my neighbour pondering the position of my tractor. I told him I'd gone to the garage for better gloves, and then he & I got the tractor back up onto level ground, and then I pumped up the tire and finished the job. I tucked my t-shirt in and I don't think he was any the wiser, but had a strip of white plastic made an appearance during our exertions, I could have dealt with that, psychologically, whereas the toddler-in-a-loaded-diaper look I was sporting previously was a bridge too far. 

Onesies are going to come back into fashion for lawn work, methinks. 

I use cheap pullups when doing yard work but Im not riding. I end up sweating so much anyways. My 0.02.