All My Mother's Rules (Ch. 70 & Epilogue - 2/13/24)

[WBDaddy]

20 minutes ago, spark said:

I wouldn't call any of the comments criticism.   They might be harsh on the mother, but that's because the character is fascinating and well developed.   Those comments aren't criticising the writing.   It's a compliment to the story

Exactly.  When readers have visceral reactions to a given character, it means the writer has managed to engage their readers to a level that evokes such reactions, which is wildly successful.  

[spark]

9 hours ago, Nicole Kolibri said:

I am only partially able to speak English, but i understand enough to see what the way is.

I understand exactly, whether someone wants the story to be softer or whether he celebrates the character/history ...
Which is partly happening here, can easily be misunderstood as an attack on the author.

If i celebrate a devilish character it looks something like this ...
Wow ... she is a meanie from mother, you have colored your character really evil, its so great.

I would never use offensive words how other users like it ... for example .... The bitch is so crazy she belongs in psychiatry .... or "It is totally unacceptable to treat a reasonably normal 15 year old in that way" .... ect.
Note from me
(And what is with the 3y old emily? That is fine or what? ) ?

I can only say again and again  ... It's just a story, damn it and not the real life.  ups ... ?
It can be wonderfully liberating to curse .... Sometimes, for example, when you ram the door or a closet with your bare toes ... who doesn't know it, throw the first stone ....

I mean ...
Some users should simply pay more attention to their choice of words and phrases.
If I wasn't to wrong.
And all is fine.

@ spark and WBDaddy
But it is true too, the vast majority celebrate this story and feverish with the characters.
There are just a few user that confuse a story on the internet with real life .... Thank God!

I think I get what you're saying,

Fortunately, I think Minnesota Writer understands that when we say this bitch is crazy it's not a criticism of the writing..  In fact it's the exact opposite.    To his credit, he didn't write a character that was immediately dismissed as psycho-bitch.  In fiction that's rare, and in ABDL fiction it's like spotting an unicorn.   It's easy to write a character that is a psycho-bitch from beginner.      What Minnesota Writer has done is to pace out the development where it took me a while to realize just what mega bitch.  Let's put it this way: if mom had reacted to Sarah's accident the way I would expect a mother to react (I.E. take her to the doctor)  it would have been consistent with the character as had been disclosed prior.  Basically, I had my suspicions that mom was controlling and not really concerned with the development of her children, but reacting approtiately would not have surprised me.  However, it's an ABDL story, and we want Sarah to end up diapers 

[Sylum]

I’ve really been enjoying this story, its rare to have an abdl fic be more about the characters and a logical well paced plot. It was fairly clear that the mother was hardly a good parent, but that is obviously the intent, much like real life people can be quite caustic. All in all, thank you for the story so far, I look forward to any additions in the future.

[MinnesotaWriter]

Chapter 17: Milk and Cookies

As soon as Fortnite loaded on my computer, I got a pop-up message. A friend request? Probably some random person I’d played against recently. I went over to the screen where I could reject it. Seeing that notification continue to sit there was going to annoy me.

LisasuarasRex. That’s who had sent me the friend request. Wait. I couldn’t recall noticing Lisa’s username during the tryout, but this was too much of a coincidence for it not to be her. I added her as a friend. A chat pop-up from Lisa opened almost instantly.

LisasuarasRex: Sarah????
Dragongirl27972: Yep
LisasuarasRex: good, this was lisa
LisasuarasRex: wasnt sure i remembered your username right
LisasuarasRex: all those numbers
LisasuarasRex: u up for duos?
Dragongirl27972: sure!!
LisasuarasRex: ive been practicing making runs to the grotto this weekend
LisasaurasRex: u could join
Dragongirl27972: seems risky
LisasaurasRex: not really
LisasaurasRex: loots worth it too
LisasaurasRex: easiest way to get a sniper rifle
LisasaurasRex: just follow and youll be fine

I saw a notification that Lisa had invited me to party up with her. I accepted it and clicked a button to indicate that I was ready to start the game. I’d forgotten to ask if Lisa had a microphone herself. We wouldn’t be able to type to each other once the game got underway.

“Testing. Testing. Testing,” I said into the microphone as soon as soon as the game loaded to the waiting area.

“Here.”

I checked the route the bus was going to take over the island. Good, it was on the opposite side of the map from The Grotto. We’d probably be the only ones heading over to that location. Lisa pinged a spot on the map for where we were going.

“Best entrance to The Grotto was through the water passage from the ocean,” she said.

Lisa must have spent all weekend playing. Once our characters had jumped into a telephone booth to get disguised as the AI henchmen patrolling the area, Lisa led us to every chest of items in the hideout. In just a couple minutes, we were stocked up on every weapon we’d need for the rest of the game.

I was just along for the ride. Lisa notched six kills, and I got two assists as we easily dispatched the first three teams we came against. In no time at all, it was just us and one other team remaining out of the fifty two-persons teams that had started in the winner-take-all game to begin with.

Building was one of the things I didn’t do well in Fortnite. I get the buttons for it all jumbled up, building ramps instead of walls, and vice versa. And I wasn’t even going to attempt to edit things I’d already built. Lisa threw out a fort for both of us in a matter of seconds, building higher and higher into the sky. We now had a clear view of our two remaining opponents. Lisa took the first shot with her sniper rifle. One down. One to go. I zoomed in with my scope and tracked the remaining player. And bam. I got him. First place.

“Woo hoo!” I shouted enthusiastically into the microphone. “We won!”

Lisa wasn’t as enthused as me. I suppose she wins often enough that it wasn’t too exciting.

“Potty time, Sarah,” Mom yelled at me from the bathroom.

I winced at the announcement, making me glad I wasn’t video chatting with Lisa. I didn’t know how good my microphone was at picking up sound, but if Lisa heard anything, she didn’t say so. I muted my microphone so I could reply to Mom.

“I’ll be there in a second.”

“You’ll be there right now, young lady.”

“I’ve got to run,” I said to Lisa, as I turned the microphone back on. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

“Sure. Bye.”

I didn’t really feel the need to pee right now. I probably could have gone another twenty minutes or so before my bladder would begin to feel irritated, but ignoring Mom wasn’t going to be an option.

“Have you kept your pull-up dry?” Mom asked as I walked into the bathroom.

I wanted to roll my eyes so bad, but I managed to have enough self-control not to do so.

“Of course I did.”

I couldn’t believe Mom had to even ask. Couldn’t she see that the pull-up was obviously dry? That was the whole point of not having me cover it up, right? Even though these didn’t have a wetness indicator, a wet pull-up still looks much different than a dry one.

“Let me see.”

Mom reached down and cupped the bottom of the pull-up with her hand, feeling to see if it was wet.

“Good job. Now show your sister how to use the potty.”

The compliment made me feel even worse. I didn’t need to be praised for doing something that everyone else my age could do. Well, almost everyone, I guess, thinking back to the pull-up I’d found at school. The one benefit of Mom making me go to the bathroom every thirty minutes was that it at least almost guaranteed that I’d be able to avoid having any accidents at home. School was going to be a whole different matter. I wasn’t sure yet how I was going to handle it.

As Emilia and I finished washing our hands – having to use the bar of soap that Mom had put in my mouth was so gross – Mom announced that she had fresh-baked Christmas cookies waiting for us in the kitchen. Yes, she’s made Christmas cookies in October.

When I arrived in the kitchen, Mom had already set out a small plate of cookies for me and Emilia, along with a full glass of milk for me and a sippy cup filled with milk for my sister. Even though my legs weren’t covered, I didn’t feel cold as I walked through the house. Mom had made sure the temperature was warm enough that I didn’t feel physically uncomfortable with not wearing pants. Now that we were in the same room together for an extended time, Emilia couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of my pull-up. I hated how she kept staring at it.

The tree-shaped sugar cookies with green frosting did taste marvelous. Mom has the best recipe for Christmas cookies, but I was leery about drinking the whole glass of milk she had set out for me. That would be a recipe for disaster tonight. Dumping some of it out into the sink wasn’t going to be an option with how close by Mom was. To her, wasting that much milk would be completely unacceptable.

I’d sipped little by little until I’d drunk about half of what was in the cup. That was as much as I felt I could risk drinking without putting myself in danger of wetting the bed. As soon as Mom’s back was turned to me, I gave the glass a nudge with my arm. I didn’t do it hard enough. The glass only slid over slightly and still remained upright. I gave it a harder shove and the glass of milk tipped over with a thump. The milk flowed all across the table and then cascaded over the edge like a waterfall onto the kitchen floor.

“Sarah!”

Mom turned to me with a look of indignation on her face.

“Good grief. What was with you today? Get that mess cleaned up.”

I immediately obeyed. I had knocked it over on purpose, after all. I grab several handfuls of paper towels and got all the milked cleaned up. I was so absorbed in that task that I didn’t notice what Mom was doing. As I turned back to the kitchen table after tossing the wet paper towels in the garbage container, I saw a large sippy cup filled with milk sitting on the table.

“If you’re going to knock your drink over like a toddler, you’re going to drink from a sippy cup like one.”

“I’m not thirsty. I’ve had half a glass of milk already.”

“Well, I’ve already poured it out, and we’re not going to let it go to waste, so drink up.”

How I was going to avoid wetting the bed if I ended up drinking one-and-a-half glassed of milk this late in the evening? I couldn’t pull an all-nighter right before a school day. I also couldn’t tell Mom that I was worried about wetting the bed. That would only raise more questions after the accident I had this evening. I begin to drink the milk.

I held the sippy cup up to my mouth. The firm, sippy part of the cup had a small opening, which only allowed a tiny stream of milk to go through. Drinking it was a slow struggle, but I finally managed to finish the bottle to the last drop. I felt so full. Mom took Emilia off to get her diapered for bed. It was a nice change not to be stuck with that responsibility.

With Emilia in bed, I was shut out of my bedroom until it was time for me to go to sleep myself. I was surprised at how exhausted I felt, especially since I had slept for most of the morning and afternoon. I had figured it would at least be midnight by the time I was tired enough to sleep. If only I could have a gaming system to play Fortnite on after my sister went to bed. Playing Fortnite on my phone wasn’t an option as my smartphone wasn’t smart enough to handle that game.

With nothing much to do, I decided to at least get a head start on some of my homework for the week ahead. We had just gotten to the Part 2 in “Crime and Punishment” and were beginning to see the immediate fallout from the murders Raskolnikov had committed and the guilt his conscious was experiencing.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The timer on Mom’s watch started going off. I had hoped that with Emilia asleep that Mom might be more relaxed with how often she was making me go to the toilet. But nope, that wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s time to take a break from the book and go potty,” Mom said.

“I didn’t need to go right now.”

“That doesn’t matter. Go sit on the toilet for at least two minutes. Don’t come back any sooner than that.”

At least I got to have some privacy in the bathroom, since Mom didn’t accompany me there this time. Once I was seated on the toilet, I did find that I was able to get a decent trickle of pee out even though I hadn’t yet felt the urge to go. I guess Mom was right after all.

---

A dreamless night passed by in almost an instant.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

I both heard the alarm and didn’t. The sound reached my ears, but my brain didn’t register the fact that the sound meant I needed to wake up and get out of bed.

“Sarah. Sarah!”

I felt some hands give me a shake on my side. I opened my eyes at last. Mom was standing right next to my bed. My alarm was still buzzing. I looked groggily at the clock, which said 6:55 a.m. I’d slept through my alarm for ten whole minutes?

“Get up. You need to hurry, or you’ll be late for school.”

I threw off my sheets and covers. I felt something wet on my bottom as I rolled off of the bed and onto my feet, but being only half-awake I didn’t pay much attention to it.

“Sarah, what did you do now?”

“What did I do?”

“Look,” Mom said, pointing back at my bed.

I turned to look back at my bed, which had a large wet spot on it right where I had been laying. I had never had the pull-ups leak before at night, but the last time I had used them for that purpose had been about five years ago.

“The bed’s all wet, young lady. Didn’t I tell you to keep the pull-up on?”

This was too much. Starting to cry, I sat back down on my bed, and in doing so, felt the sensation of a wet pull-up. This was all Mom’s fault. Why did she have to make me drink that stupid sippy cup of milk last night?

“Mom, I didn’t take it off.”

Mom raised her eyebrows at me, unconvinced.

“Let me see it then.”

I didn’t want Mom to see my wet pull-up. I didn’t particularly want to see it myself, either. But I also didn’t want Mom to think I had disobeyed her by not wearing the pull-up to bed. I lifted up my nightgown just long enough to reveal a yellow, wet, and droopy pull-up before letting the nightgown drop down again to give myself some privacy.

“Oh,” Mom said softly.

She reached down and gave me a firm hug for several seconds.

“It’s OK. It’s OK. Let’s just get everything cleaned up and then you could hop in the shower and get ready for school. Take the bedding to the washing machine and get it started. Toss your nightgown in as well, since it’s also wet.”

As I removed my wet nightgown and tossed it into the washing machine along with my pajamas, I realized I hadn’t given any thought to what I’d wear on my way to the bathroom. I peeked into the kitchen. Emilia was seated by herself in a booster seat, munching on a bowl of cereal. The pull-up was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer I stayed in it, but I didn’t want to walk past my sister wearing only a pull-up and a bra. I tried to slip past her quickly and quietly but was not successful.

“Did you have an accident?” Emilia asked.

Why does everyone have to ask if I’ve had an accident when it’s clear as day that I’m wearing a wet pull-up? Besides, Emilia really should mind her own businesses. It’s not as if her own track record with pull-ups was all that great.

“Yes, I had an accident at night, just like you did,” I replied, trying to put Emilia in her place by reminding her of her own potty-training issues.

“Nuh-uh,” Emilia said, shaking her head. “I was dry all night.”

Her face beamed. She was really proud of that accomplishment.

“Good for you,” I said gruffly.

---

Mom was again waiting for me in the bedroom after I had finished showering and getting dried off. The changing pad was on the middle of the bed. Next to it was a pull-up and baby power, along with a set of clothes for the day. Mom never backed down on her punishments. If she said I was going to be wearing pull-ups for a week, that meant that she meant it.

I hung the towel up on the back of the door and crawled onto the changing mat without saying a word to Mom. Let’s just get this over with. I didn’t have the energy to argue with her, and the wet bed gave Mom all the ammunition she would need to shoot down any of my objections.

“This was so much easier than changing Emilia,” Mom remarked as she finished adjusting the pull-up. “She could learn a thing or two from you.”

Mom wasn’t content with just putting the pull-up on me. She insisted on strapping on my bra, as well as dressing me in the remainder of my outfit for the day.

“Lift your arms up,” Mom said as she pulled a t-shirt and hoodie onto me.

I wasn’t even allowed to put on my jeans, as Mom put those on me as well before grabbing my hands and pulling me upright off the bed.

“Put these in your backpack,” Mom said, holding out two pull-ups.

“I don’t need any extra ones. I don’t even need the one I’m wearing right now.”

“Really?” Mom said. “The wet bed and the accident yesterday evening say otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t have wet the bed last night if you wouldn’t have made me drink so much milk.”

“Don’t blame me for your own accident. You’re fifteen. That should be old enough to have some milk to drink in the evening without waking up in a wet bed, but I guess it’s not.”

I took the pull-ups that Mom was holding out to me and placed them deep in my backpack, though I made sure to put them in a different spot than where I still had some of Emilia’s pull-ups.

“When I pick you up this afternoon, you could show me that you’ve kept all three of them all dry.”

That left me with nothing to argue against. I couldn’t deny having the two accidents, and I couldn’t reject the logic of Mom’s offer that I could simply prove that I didn’t need the pull-ups by not wetting them. I had an idea of how I could manage to do that.

 

[Arendeth]

One more wetting to go and into non pull-up type diapers for Sarah though maybe to nurse might find out this time and get her a health checkup of sorts. Thanks for the chapter.

[GQLF]

I hope mother can found Sarah in Emilia's pull-ups, it is interesting.

[thedman]

Hmm, I wonder if Mommy maybe marked the pull up that she sent with Sarah so that she will know if the same ones come home

[Sarah Penguin]

[Bel George]

I think a real diaper would help to avoid the wet sheets.

Please continue.

[MinnesotaWriter]

On 5/19/2020 at 12:51 PM, Arendeth said:

One more wetting to go and into non pull-up type diapers for Sarah though maybe to nurse might find out this time and get her a health checkup of sorts. Thanks for the chapter.

You're welcome, thanks for the comment.

On 5/19/2020 at 7:39 PM, GQLF said:

I hope mother can found Sarah in Emilia's pull-ups, it is interesting.

Would be more interesting for us, maybe less so for Sarah 

23 hours ago, thedman said:

Hmm, I wonder if Mommy maybe marked the pull up that she sent with Sarah so that she will know if the same ones come home

Good question. If she did, that could really cause things to backfire on Sarah.

20 hours ago, Sarah Penguin said:

12 hours ago, Jor said:

I think a real diaper would help to avoid the wet sheets.

Please continue.

For sure. We'll have to see if Sarah's mom gets around to that conclusion.

[D503]

Awsm. Cant wait for the next one.

[MinnesotaWriter]

Chapter 18: Confrontation

“What did you think of your first sleepover?” Samantha asked as I took a seat next to her on the bus.

“I think I’m still in need of some sleep,” I replied, trying to stifle a yawn.

I didn’t succeed, causing Desi and Samantha both to take a turn yawning as well.

“Stop, that’s contagious,” Samantha said.

“Sorry. Can’t help it. I’m so tired.”

“I thought you’d gotten a decent amount of sleep Saturday night,” Samantha said.

“I slept,” I lied, having not gotten any sleep that night, “but I woke up a lot because I wasn’t used to being on the floor in a sleeping bag.”

I thought Samantha looked at me a little nervously after that remark. Was she concerned I’d seen her go up to Tommy’s room?

“I’m sure you’ll get used to it,” Desi said. “After all, it was the first time you’d spent the night away from home. I bet you’ll sleep like a baby next time.”

I hope not. My experience sleeping like a baby - wet pull-up and bed and all – wasn’t exactly pleasant last night.

“Yeah,” Samantha added. “We should definitely start planning for another sleepover.”

I wasn’t sure of the best way to respond to that. With Mom now partly aware of my bladder issues, I wasn’t certain she’d approve of a sleepover, or, if she did approve, what she might say to Samantha’s mom. And, if Mom approve, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to another sleepover anyway. Even if I could manage my bladder problems and keep my friends from discovering that issue, I realized that I hadn’t enjoyed the sleepover nearly as much as I had expected to. But I couldn’t bring myself to admit that to them.

“Yeah,” I replied. “But it might be awhile. Mom wasn’t happy with how tired I was after it.”

Thankfully, they let the topic of another sleepover drop, and we all drifted off into a tired Monday-morning silence on the remainder of the ride to school. The bus made good time today. We arrived at school with twenty minutes to spare before our first class began.

I knew it was almost certainly my imagination, but the nighttime pull-up I had on felt so much more noticeable than the ones I had been taking from my sister. This was the first time I’d had it on beneath my jeans. I hadn’t thought that the outline of the pull-up was visible under my clothes when I had checked in the mirror this morning, but I couldn’t help but feel anxious as I made my way to the bathroom.

I didn’t consider mom’s threat to keep me in pull-ups to be an idle one. If she were to find out that I had wet one of them, there was no doubt in my mind that she would re-set the seven-day clock for how long I had to keep them dry before I could go back to wearing panties. Before I’d left for school, mom had told me she’d count the dry pull-ups that I brought back, so there wasn’t any way I could wet any of them without her finding out.

I have no idea what has been going wrong with my body, but until I could figure that out, the odds of going a week without wetting myself simply wasn’t possible. Wearing Emilia’s pull-ups instead of the nighttime ones was even a riskier proposition than before. First, I now must deal with the fact that I knew those pull-ups weren’t going to work one hundred percent of the time. That made sense, since even though I could still fit in my sister’s pull-ups they were really made for toddlers, not teenagers.

The other problem was that was that Mom discovering me using Emilia’s pull-ups now would be so much worse than before, because she would surely see the use of my sister’s pull-ups as an attempt to circumvent her rules. But I had made up my mind. The chance to get mom off my back about the accidents was worth the risk of mom finding out about me using Emilia’s pull-ups.

I used a bathroom break before the start of our AP Literature class to swap from my sister’s pull-ups to the nighttime ones. I grabbed a pair of panties from my backpack to wear over the pull-up for good measure.

“Morning,” I said to Lisa as we passed her on the way to the front of the classroom.

Lisa returned the greeting with a smile, while Samantha shot me a look of annoyance. Why did she care if I was being friendly with Lisa?

---

After an accident in fourth period, I was relieved that I had chosen to wear my sister’s pull-ups. I’d gotten much quicker with changing myself, so I didn’t have to worry about my friends wondering why I was taking so long each time in the bathroom.

I arrived in the cafeteria as Desi and Samantha had finished loading up their trays. As we made our way to our normal spot by the windows in the back of the cafeteria, I saw that it was already taken.

“Why couldn’t you have saved a spot for us?” Samantha complained to me.

“I’m sorry. I had to make a quick run to the bathroom. Besides, there are like a million other spots we can sit at,” I said.

That wasn’t completely true. While there were some open tables, the majority of them had been taken already. I spotted Lisa seated by herself at a table for four.

“We could grab a spot at Lisa’s table,” I said.

“No way. Not with that weirdo,” Samantha replied.

I wanted to hit Samantha with a thesaurus, partly because she was being mean to Lisa and partly because she at least needs think of more creative insults.

“Just stop,” I said. “What’s your problem? She’s on the Fortnite team with me.”

“Geez, I just don’t want to listen to her blabber about video games.”

I knew Samantha didn’t share my liking for video games, but that comment still stung deeply. And besides, when had we ever heard Lisa blabber about anything?

“Fine. I’ll go sit with Lisa, and you could find another table where you can prattle on about whatever you like.”

I marched off indignantly, leaving Desi and Samantha to themselves.

“Sarah. Wait. I’m sorry.” Samantha called after me.

I ignored Samantha and sat down in a chair opposite Lisa, who was so absorbed with something on her phone that she didn’t even notice me take a seat at her table. I knocked quietly on the table to get her attention. Lisa jerked her head up and nearly fell backwards out of her seat.

“How’s your day been?” I asked once Lisa had regained her balance.

“Fine.”

“It was fun playing with you last night. Sorry, I only had time for one game.”

“It’s OK. We... we could play again tonight?” Lisa asked hesitantly.

“Of course, as long as you don’t think I’m holding you back too much.”

Our conversation was interrupted by Desi and Samantha walking up to the table. Samantha was biting her lip. I’d known her long enough to know that was her tell for trying to not look like she was unhappy. I guessed that Desi had told Samantha that she needed to come join us or she’d be left to eat by herself.

“Hi Lisa, could we join you guys as well?” Desi asked.

Lisa nodded. The conversations at the table diverged, with Lisa and I talking about what new changes might be coming in the next update to Fortnite and Samantha and Desi talking about a new movie they wanted to go see. By the time lunch was over, I noticed that Samantha hadn’t said a single word to Lisa the entire time. Why does she have to be so petty sometimes?

---

I hated cheerleading. Even if it weren’t for the craziness of trying to avoid wetting myself and keeping anyone from seeing my pull-ups, I don’t think I would enjoy it.

There was one person responsible for that – Claire. Not a single practice had gone by last week where she hadn’t tried to sabotage me in one way or another. She was clever as well, never doing anything overt or that couldn’t be dismissed as an accident with an insincere apology. She wanted my spot on the team and seemed determined to find a way to get it.

The easiest solution would be for me to quit. I could avoid having to deal with Claire anymore. But Mom would go ballistic. I couldn’t say how Mom might choose to punish me for leaving them time, but it would for sure be bad, even though I had managed to get myself involved in another extracurricular activity with the Fortnite team.

That meant my choice was either to deal with an angry Mom or an angry Claire. As much of a bitch as Claire was, she didn’t have anything on an angry mother. Coach Addison had caught on to how Claire and I had been feuding. She was no longer pairing Claire and I together for drills during practice. That didn’t deter Claire from trying to get under my skin, but it did give her fewer options for doing so.

The locker room was nearly empty after cheerleading practice as I finished getting showered and dressed into panties, jeans, and a hoodie. I was ready to swing by a bathroom in the hallway to change into a pair of the nighttime pull-ups before mom picked me up. As I closed my locker and turned around to grab my backpack off of where I had set it on the bench, I noticed that it was no longer there.

“Missing something?” Claire asked from the other end of the room, my backpack dangling from her hand.

This was so not good. I did my best not to look too nervous, but my pull-ups were at the bottom of the backpack.

“Hey! Give that back!”

Claire unzipped the backpack instead. She wouldn’t see the pull-ups immediately. I had made sure to hide those at the very bottom. My secret was safe so long as Claire didn’t start taking stuff out of it. But that was exactly what she intended to do.

“Catch,” Claire shouted, as she pulled a book from my backpack and tossed it underhanded at me.

I managed to catch the book before it hit my face. I set it down on the locker room bench as Claire sprinted off toward the other end of the locker room with my still very full backpack. I ran around the edge of the locker room, trying to cut her off. Hopefully, she wasn’t planning on running out into the hallway.

I could hear footsteps running from around the corner, and as I turned around the corner, Claire and I ran smack into each other and then onto the floor. After a brief tussle, I at last managed to tug the backpack from Claire’s arms. It came loose and spun across the floor, but besides from a couple of pencils, nothing came out of it. As we scrambled to our feet, I gave Claire a firm shove against the wall and she let out a cry of pain.

We both turned to see Coach Addison come into view. She didn’t look happy with us.

“Sarah. Claire. In my office. Now,” coach said.

I grabbed the backpack – no way was I letting it out of my sight – and followed Claire into Coach Addison’s office.

As soon as the door shut, Claire and I began talking at the same time.

“She shoved me.”

“Only because she took my backpack.”

“Stop,” Addison said.

“But...” Claire and I said in unison.

“Not another word from either of you two,” Addison said. “I’m not interested in who started what, and I’m tired of dealing with your constant bickering. If either of you cause any more trouble, you were off the team. Are you clear about what I said?”

We both nodded. I wanted desperately to argue with the coach. This was so unfair, but I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. Claire gave me a smirk as I left the locker-room. She didn’t seem upset at all with Addison’s threat. That was not a good sign.

 

[Sarah Penguin]

[thedman]

Uh oh, I wonder what Claire saw? Actually no I don't, I think we all know

[Night Rain]

Well this is all either going to blow up in Sarah's face. Or Clarie will somehow reveal Sarah's secert if she truly knows the truth.

[Bonsai]

Threats (new and old and new-old combinations) keep coming Sara’s way and she keeps valiantly fighting them short-term. At this point, I’m a bit surprised she never thought on how to deal log-term with her issues and wonder why she does not think to seek medical advice.

[Nat]

On 5/19/2020 at 10:17 AM, MinnesotaWriter said:

Yes, she’s making Christmas cookies October.

You mean in October.

 

I want more to the story. This has been well written. Also the mom is clearly abusive. I wonder where the dad is in this? 

I also think Emelia told on her for revenge because she has made her have accidents in her pull ups causing her to be a baby. 

It's also not uncommon for kids to not tell anyone about their abusive parent. 

[Arendeth]

Thanks for the chapter, she will likely of wet her self just before she gets home next chapter considering all the stress that such a conflict will bring.

[Night Rain]

I'd rather see her wet herself in front of Lisa but that's just me. Maybe Sarah can try talking to Lisa about some of the stress in her life.

[spark]

8 hours ago, Nat said:

You mean in October.

 

I want more to the story. This has been well written. Also the mom is clearly abusive. I wonder where the dad is in this? 

I also think Emelia told on her for revenge because she has made her have accidents in her pull ups causing her to be a baby. 

It's also not uncommon for kids to not tell anyone about their abusive parent. 

Good point about Emelia.  Emelia has paid a huge cost for her accidents, and it's natural for kids (and adults) to expose the others who break the rules.   I don't think the abusive parent is necessary, but it could play a rule.    

Based on how it's written, Sarah is clearly more wary of her mother, and doesn't want to poke the bear.   Emelia is young enough that she hasn't learned that lesson yet.

[Nat]

1 hour ago, spark said:

Good point about Emelia.  Emelia has paid a huge cost for her accidents, and it's natural for kids (and adults) to expose the others who break the rules.   I don't think the abusive parent is necessary, but it could play a rule.    

Based on how it's written, Sarah is clearly more wary of her mother, and doesn't want to poke the bear.   Emelia is young enough that she hasn't learned that lesson yet.

 

Emotional and psychological is child abuse. You don't need to starve or beat your child or refuse them proper bathing and clothing to be abusive. Sadly this situation would be very hard to prove to social workers. These sort of parents wonder why their kids don't see them or ever talk to them. 

[MinnesotaWriter]

  Thanks for all the comments and feedback. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story.

On 5/24/2020 at 9:22 PM, Sarah Penguin said:

?

On 5/24/2020 at 9:24 PM, thedman said:

Uh oh, I wonder what Claire saw? Actually no I don't, I think we all know

No comment

On 5/24/2020 at 10:54 PM, Night Rain said:

Well this is all either going to blow up in Sarah's face. Or Clarie will somehow reveal Sarah's secert if she truly knows the truth.

Claire is definitely up to something, we'll have to see what it is.

On 5/25/2020 at 12:14 AM, Bonsai said:

Threats (new and old and new-old combinations) keep coming Sara’s way and she keeps valiantly fighting them short-term. At this point, I’m a bit surprised she never thought on how to deal log-term with her issues and wonder why she does not think to seek medical advice.

Sarah is pretty self sufficient, so I wouldn't be surprised if she does try to take some more active steps to get out of the mess that she's in.

9 hours ago, Nat said:

You mean in October.

 

I want more to the story. This has been well written. Also the mom is clearly abusive. I wonder where the dad is in this? 

I also think Emelia told on her for revenge because she has made her have accidents in her pull ups causing her to be a baby. 

It's also not uncommon for kids to not tell anyone about their abusive parent. 

Thanks for catching that, Got it fixed.

As far as Sarah's dad goes, for now, let's just say he isn't present in her life. That may or may not be expanded on later in the story.

1 hour ago, Arendeth said:

Thanks for the chapter, she will likely of wet her self just before she gets home next chapter considering all the stress that such a conflict will bring.

You're welcome. There certainly are more accidents in Sarah's future. 

1 hour ago, Night Rain said:

I'd rather see her wet herself in front of Lisa but that's just me. Maybe Sarah can try talking to Lisa about some of the stress in her life.

Sarah does want someone to be able to confide in, so we'll have to see how that plays out.

58 minutes ago, spark said:

Good point about Emelia.  Emelia has paid a huge cost for her accidents, and it's natural for kids (and adults) to expose the others who break the rules.   I don't think the abusive parent is necessary, but it could play a rule.    

Based on how it's written, Sarah is clearly more wary of her mother, and doesn't want to poke the bear.   Emelia is young enough that she hasn't learned that lesson yet.

Preschoolers do tend to have a growing awareness of how people around them are acting. With her mother and sister having worked hard to instill a set of rules regarding potty training, it's natural I think for her to point out a situation where her older sister broke those rules.

12 minutes ago, Nat said:

 

Emotional and psychological is child abuse. You don't need to starve or beat your child or refuse them proper bathing and clothing to be abusive. Sadly this situation would be very hard to prove to social workers. These sort of parents wonder why their kids don't see them or ever talk to them. 

That's absolutely correct, and it can be worse in some ways because a child might not even recognize that the way they are being treated isn't normal.

[spark]

1 hour ago, Nat said:

 

Emotional and psychological is child abuse. You don't need to starve or beat your child or refuse them proper bathing and clothing to be abusive. Sadly this situation would be very hard to prove to social workers. These sort of parents wonder why their kids don't see them or ever talk to them. 

I think it would be almost impossible to prove.   It might be easier to spot with Emelia, if a daycare provider noticed was kept in diapers as a form of punishment and Emelia shared that her mom made her sit in a highchair because of her accidents.   That would probably be a red-flag.     On the other hand, mom appears to conceal the treatment under the guise of protective parenting.   I don't think Sarah would reveal anything to anybody, and she doesn't appear to have any significant support group around her.  Her friends aren't really a source of support, and I don't think she has any trust in the adults in her life either.

It's a bit of a catch-22 for Sarah.   Based on the way it's written, she realizes her mother is 'unusual', but doesn't appear to think of it as abuse.    She's hidden her bladder issues from her mother, and would likely get punished for that if her mother found out.   

It's even tough to quantify where the emotional abuse begins and eccentric parenting ends.   Putting a 3-year-old who has frequent accidents  back in diapers isn't likely considered abuse.   Making her act like a baby is.  Not letting a child go on sleepovers isn't abuse, nor is spanking.   Although spanking a 15-year-old for a bad grade on test crosses the line.  Sarah has already chosen to wear Pull Ups to deal with her bladder issues, so that wouldn't constitute abuse.   Putting her on potty timer, and not letting her cover up is emotional abuse.    That doesn't mean mom wasn't abusive before- because she is clearly trying to control her children rather than parent her children.

Edited May 26, 2020 by spark
adding to the post

[Lost Little Neppy]

Something else I caught was that Sarah remarked that her mother was in a good mood because she was babying Emelia. Let's say a parent was doing this as a punishment to teach their child that being a baby isn't fun. While I personally don't think anything good would come of that, it's a gray area as far as abuse is concerned. But when the parent in question is enjoying it and getting a rise out of it, that's a huge red flag if ever I saw one.

For Sarah's and Emelia's sakes, I hope that they have a family member who sees this and decides to get the law involved. This mother has mental issues and she's taking it out on her children, even if they don't realize it.

[Nat]

I am sure ordinary parents have treated their kid like a baby as reverse psychology to get them to quit wearing diapers. Like they would do something like "Oh no, you have to go to bed because you're a baby, big girls stay up later. babies have to be in bed sooner than big girls because they get cranky if they stay up too late."

"Oh no, Sarah is a baby, she can't play with that toy, it has too many little pieces because babies can choke on it, only big girls can play with it."

Then the kid decides to go back to wearing underwear again and being a big girl again. You know how little kids will sometimes want to regress and be a baby again when they are jealous of their baby sibling or a baby that is over their parents are baby sitting. 

But context is all that matters. There is no humiliation involved. Just the kid seeing how limited choices are when you are a baby and they drop the baby act and go back to being a big kid again. They got to make that choice.