A Special Day For One Lucky Baby

[TinyBunny]

I thought that I'd start off my birthday by posting this fantasy.  If you've ever wondered: "Who is TinyBunny? Why is he here?  If, for example, he was out playing one day and a series of wrong turns brought him face to face with the Mirror of Erised (the mythical object that shows a person the deepest desires of their heart), what would he see?  This explosion of imaginative writing should satisfy your curiosity.  All you need do is read on:

 

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As the sun breaks through the nursery window I stir in my wooden cot and soon start mewling; wanting to be cuddled and given a speedy change into a daytime nappy.
Within moments mummy arrives on the scene, plopping a loaded bottle of milk into the warmer and with well-practised motions lowering the side of my cot and enveloping me in her loving embrace.
She greets me with her mellow, musical voice and I, unable to respond through my dummy-sucking try to return my mummy's love through our cosy morning hug.

"We ought to get you a fresh nappy, angel. You're mummy's little fountain aren't you?"

Beep beep.

"Ah, maybe that can wait for a few minutes, your bottle's ready! You must be thirsty sweetheart."

As if by magic my dummy is replaced with the bottle teat and I suck as energetically as I can to try and please mummy.

After sustaining our cuddle for a few more moments I'm deposited on the cushions and blankets within the cot, mummy grabs a nappy, wipes and powder and I pull my knees up to my stomach whilst continuing to drain my bottle.  My legs are extracted from my fleece footed sleepsuit and before long my yearning for a fresh nappy is satisfied and the snaps on my infantile pyjamas are refastened.

After mummy helps me get rid of my wind I'm then carried to the kitchen and mummy helps me eat my rusks and I manage to squeeze in another yummy warm bottle.

Mummy holds me as we watch the animal channel on television; she explains all of the animals' names and I'm mesmerised as an enormous whale is shown powering its way through the ocean.

"Mummy loves you."

I try to squeeze mummy's hand with my tiny one.

"Look who's here!"

I notice that mummy has found one of my bears and I reach for it desperately wanting a cuddle.  For a moment mummy, Bear and I are locked in a group hug.

"Would you like to go into your playpen for a little while with your other bears, sweetheart?"

My dummy sucking becomes more urgent as the intensity of my separation anxiety increases but, being clever, I know that mummy has to tidy up the breakfast things, fetch the post and do all of her other mummy duties so it's not long before I'm happily stacking my blocks and arranging my bears in my playpen; with it's towering wooden bars I knew that my safety was assured. 
An urgent stream cascades into my nappy and I suck my dummy and clutch my favourite bear feeling very babyish.

I'm dimly aware of mummy coming close to my playpen as I swipe at my blocks and knock them into a heap of rubble.

"Hhh, you knocked over your blocks! Silly babykins!"

I chuckle at my own infantile naughtiness as mummy grasps my left hand and delivers a warm baby bottle into my right. I try to squeeze mummy's hand again to let her know that I appreciate her loving and spoiling me.

"I'll come back in a moment angel, can you drink your bottle for mummy? We know that you're always a thirsty baby."

Sure enough mummy's return coincides perfectly with the 'phut-phut-phut' sound of me trying to drain the last few drops of tasty milk from the bottle. I'm excited to see that she's brought changing supplies, particularly as I've felt another warm glow around my bottom within the last few moments.

Before she lifts me out of my playpen for the application of a fresh nappy we spend several minutes building my blocks up into a cube again, her slender wrists able to reach through the bars and drop the toys into position. When we're done she smiles at me and then embarks upon undressing me, rubbing my rump with the wipes and then fastening me into the new nappy.

In no time at all I'm in my high chair once again, legs dangling helplessly, having soft baby food coaxed into my mouth by mummy. Although she praises me for being good things still had seemed to get a bit messy and I was grateful for the bib that mummy had tied around my neck; it had proven itself to be most practical. I smile, thinking of how lucky I was to have such a wise mummy.

As mummy grasps another well-appointed bottle I extend my legs and let out a yawn.

"Someone's getting sleepy!"

"Silly baby."

As I start work on the fourth warm bottle of the day my nappy suffers another uncontrolled soaking.

Mummy finishes her own beverage and arranges our crockery in the dishwasher as I made progress with my drink.

Soon I'm being carried back upstairs, my eyelids fluttering, knowing that my safety was not in doubt as long as mummy had me.

My semi-concious condition doesn't matter as mummy starts the procedure of replacing my wet nappy: we've been through this well-sequenced routine so many times that I seem to respond with obedient reflexes.

Mummy starts singing my lullabies as she rests my back upon the crib mattress.  With the love none but a mother can give she ensures that my blankets envelop my whole body, checks that my dummy is well-fastened to the clip on my collar and routes my arms around one of the half-dosen bears that shared the cot with me.  The lullaby reached it's pianissimo conclusion.

"Mummy loves her little one, sweet dreams!"

"I love you too, mummy," I want to say something appreciative so badly but tiny as I was I could only murmour "Mamma."

It must have been at that moment that the blankets performed their magic and sent me to sleep because I never heard the clicks of my cot rails locking back into place, and the tinkling of the mobile only reached me after I was roused.

"Hi angel, can you wake up for mummy... please?  We'll never get you to sleep later if you have too much now: you're such an energetic bunny.  I have your bottle..."

That last part gets my attention and I realised that I am no longer frolicking in the meadows of the Land of Dreams with lambs, bunnies and teddy bears but, in fact, buried under my cellular blankets with... teddy bears gathered around me.  They must have seized the opportunity to rest as well and miraculously managed to find me in our own special corner of the sleep world.

Sunlight and birdsong continue to flow in through the window that mummy must have opened as once again I encounter the wonderful sensation of a bottle teat atop my tongue and respond accordingly with my suckling.

"You're so tiny aren't you, angel? I don't think that you'll be able to grow up though, you love all of your baby things too much don't you?  Your bears will get tremendously sad if you start neglecting them like older children usually do..."

Obviously mummy sensed that I was getting agitated at this emergence of a serious topic of conversation.

"It's alright, honey.  Your mummy's going to be here to look after you for a long, long time.  She won't let you grow up.  She knows that you're happy being mummy's angel."

My heart swells and I'm glad that mummy is holding the bottle leaving me to hold her as tight as I can with both hands.

"I presume then that little one has no objections?  To being kept as mummy's little lamb forever?"

Of course not, silly mummy.  You've always come whenever I've needed your love.  The magnitude of your affection is beyond any means of measurement.  We're a team: one of us without the other would result in such destructive feelings of brokenness; why jepardise our closeness by training me to be independent, that would be so silly.

I must look a bit distressed because mummy kisses my forehead and places a hand under my rump.

"Ah, soggy nap-nap.  Is that why babykins is looking uncomfortable?  That was a yummy bottle wasn't it?  All gone!  All gone!"

My dummy is replaced but I still babble merrily around the nipple as mummy coats my loins with baby powder and efficiently secures a fresh nappy around my bottom.

Once again mummy passes me a bear to cuddle and raises my crib rails half-way but she's forgotten to replace my sleeper that I was wearing prior to enjoying my naptime! This deviation from our usual mummy-and-baby routine alarms me a little bit and I sob softly frantically working on my dummy teat and clutching my bear.  I desperately shuffle into a sitting position trying to see what mummy is up to resulting in a lot of infantile nappy-rustling and sniffling noises.

"What's wrong, sweetie?  I only left you for a minute, your bear's confused too.  Bear's job is to make baby happy; can you smile for us, honey?"

I clumsily try to cover myself with the blankets in an attempt to indicate that mummy had been silly and forgotten to dress me but all of the mysteries were solved when I spot the baby oil carton in mummy's hand.

"I thought that we'd do your baby massage, darling.  You love it when mummy spoils you don't you?  Somebody is a very lucky and very special baby."

I rest my head against mummy's chest and try to stretch my arms around her as she works to lower the bars of my cot.  She produces a tissue from a dressing gown pocket and wipes the tears from my cheeks.

After a few more kisses and cuddles to reassure me that I've been rather silly to have gotten upset mummy conducts my baby massage, gently rubbing and causing all tension in my back, neck and shoulders to vanish away.

When she's done she takes my sleeper down from the cot footboard where the large rabbit motif had watched over me as I was enjoying my nap earlier and coaxes my arms and legs into all of the right places.

"I won't be long, darling, I promise."

Mummy bustles out of my nursery after situating a few bears close to me and re-securing my cot rails.

Having learned from my silly bout of separation anxiety earlier I wasn't worried and cuddled each bear in turn and occasionally spoke in baby babble causing my dummy's mouthguard to get slightly wet.

Mummy dashes back into the room and put another bottle into the warmer.  I thought again about the relentless nature of mummy's love.

Sitting down on the mattress with me mummy pulls me into her lap, swaddling me in a cosy blanket.

"Shall we do some nursery rhymes whilst we wait for your bottle then, little one?"

"Half a pound of tuppenny rice..."

The first song ends and I wriggle with delight.  My nappy's era of dryness is terminated as I'm unable to hold back another urgent stream.

"This little piggy went to market..."

No... No! I've been careless and one of my tootsies has strayed into mummy's left hand as I've been kicking it with babyish joy.  I know that the fleece sole of my pyjama foot isn't going to mitigate the intensity of the tickling torture that I'll have to endure when the rhyme ends.

Sure enough within moments mummy attacks my foot with her fingertips and I writhe convulsively, overwhelmed by the tickling.  Why do my tootsies have to be so sensitive!  It's not fair!

Mummy's grip on me is secure though and the horrid tickling is followed by a lot of playful kisses and cuddles which would have probably gone on for much longer if the bottle-warmer hadn't interrupted with it's music.

"Dear, dear.  We can't send you to big school if you're going to be so ticklish, sweetheart.  Mummy will keep you enroled at your day nursery perpetually.  You'll be safer that way won't you?  You'll be able to stay as a bottle-fed baby that way as well."

I energetically suckle my dummy but it's rapidly replaced with a bottle of warm milk and I continue nursing with equal gusto.  Mummy's left hand reaches under my left arm into her pocket and she extracts 'A Beatrix Potter Anthology.'

"Story time! The Tale of the Pie and the Patty-Pan..."

How wonderful it is to be little! To not have to worry about the evil and misery that are always trying to overwhelm the citizens of the world.  As mummy reads and I drink up the warm milk I'm once again consumed with happiness.  Even the birds outside the window sing with joy, undoubtably ensuring that their own offspring are well-protected in their nests.  Nothing mattered now that mummy had pledged to keep me little and keep me as the object of her maternal love eternally.  It doesn't matter that I don't understand every word of the story; mummy's musical speech is just so hypnotic and captivating.

A few minutes after the story ended I become aware that we're moving and it looks as if we're headed downstairs again.  Mummy is wise and knows not to cave into the silly people who try to sell her stair gates to prevent me from injury: she and I have no problems with the status quo where I'm kept safe in my high chair, playpen or crib if she has to dash off to attend to housework or unexpected problems.  There's no danger of me toppling as I toddle anyway because crawling is much better for little ones.

"Mummy needs you to play by yourself for a little while, sweetheart.  I need to make our supper.  I'll bring some toys to your high chair so that we don't have to be in separate rooms.  I think that would be best, don't you, babykins?"

I girgle happily again, glad that mummy realises that I don't want to be further away from her than absolutely necessary.

Mummy secures the latch on the high chair tray which she must have cleaned whilst I was sleeping.  She clips a fresh dummy to my collar and takes away the baby bottle which I've been suckling on, hoping that more delicious milk would magically appear within it.  It seems that I have a big apetite even for a baby who is destined never to grow up!  Mummy stays to help another post-bottle-feeding burp escape from my mouth.

Within just a few moments mummy finds some tiny soft safari animals, a rattle and a Rubik's cube.  Obviously I don't know how to use the cube properly but the magic of the colours and shapes fascinates me and provides several minutes of entertainment as mummy prepares our supper.

Mummy lovingly feeds me my rusks and holds my bottle for me whilst taking occasional nibbles of her own cheesy toast.  Several lumps fall onto my bib so I become a bit upset because I'm trying to be good for her and not cause any mess.  She probably thinks that I'm distressed due to having a messy accident in my nappy though: all of a sudden my bowels had ached insistently and my delicate digestive system had been unable to cope causing me to soil my pampers.

"Have you had enough din-dins, angel?  It doesn't matter, you've eaten most of your yummy rusks haven't you?  Can you try really hard to finish your bottle for mummy... please?"

No problem, mademoiselle!  It's not as if I don't constently crave my yummy baby milk!

Before long the bottle is empty and mummy was using a baby wipe to remove the tears and rusk particles from my face whilst leaning forward and stroking my hair.

"Mummy has a treat for her little lamb, can you guess what it could be?  We've already had story time and baby massage.  How else does mummy spoil her tiny one?"

I'm certainly intrigued and mummy takes advantage of my silent pondering to wipe the high chair tray, stand up and walk to a kitchen counter with her back to me.  Dismissing the conundrum as being too hard I tried to reach for my rattle that lay upon the opposite counter but it was just out of reach.

Yet again mummy had acted with miraculous speed and was coming back towards me smiling conspiratorially.

I remain confused just for a split second until I see the saucer that mummy was carrying with five chocolate buttons upon it arranged in the shape of a letter V!  I squawk extatically and try to reach for the tasty treat with my mitten-clad fingers.

"Are you a spoiled baby?  Are you mummy's spoiled one?"

"Mamma!" I exclaim full of gratitude for all of the gifts mummy has given to me.  Nobody could deny that her mystical methods of presenting me with my treats were very effective at keeping me in suspense.

She plopped each button into my mouth one by one, allowing me to savour the delicious taste.  My dangling legs sway with happiness and I hardly notice that I've added to the dampness of my nappy again with another uninhibited void.

"Mummy knows that the other babies at your nursery school are spoiled as well, sweetheart.  That's why nobody is jealous of anybody else and you can all play happily together.  You're all angelic and loveable little babies."

Sadly the final button disappears and I'm bourne aloft by mummy as we climb the stairs together.  We make a quick stop in my nursery to deposit a bottle into the warmer but then my excitement mounts as I see that we're on course for the bathroom.

Mummy sits me upon a folded towel so that I won't be in direct contact with the cold floor and gives me a toy duck to examine whilst she prepares the bath tub.  When things look as though they're going according to plan mummy extracts me from my sleeper and untapes my nappy, gently doing all she can to clean me with the wipes.  
When she's satisfied I'm hoisted into the tub, giggling as the warm water runs over my legs in the first stage of the plan to get me squeaky clean.  As usual mummy has gone the extra mile and organised plenty of bubbles for my bathtime.  The scene of the toy ducks and boats circling each other and withstanding an occasional collision serves as a great distraction as mummy applies a layer of soap over every inch of my skin and squeezes shampoo into my hair.

Within a few minutes all of the soap has dissolved; I feel wonderfully clean and the scents of bubble-bath and shampoo are making me drousy again.  Amid the sound of the plughole girgling mummy rubs me with a thick flannel bath towel, wasting no time as it's likely that I'll make a puddle if I'm not fastened into a nappy soon.

Now with the feelings of dryness and cleanliness combined we're back in my nursery and mummy closes the window now that the room is well-ventelated.  She chooses an orange dummy for me from the collection on top of the pigeon holes where my nappies are kept.  IT's not long before my toes are pointing at the sky again as mummy applies cream and a breezy dusting of powder to my rump before fastening my bulky nightime nappy into place.

"I'll keep your dummy safe for you whilst you work on your bottle, sweetie."

She covers my legs with a cellular blanket, passes two of my teddy bears to me and raises the cot rails temperarily.

Mummy rubs my stomach from the other side of the bars in an effort to soothe me.

"Mummy will be back in a moment, angel.  Your warrior bears will keep you safe!"

Luckily I was used to this routine (so I knew that there was no need to be upset) as once again mummy excused herself to do something important.  She wasn't gone for long, stealthily topping up the water in the bottle warmer and reloading it before checking on me.

I cheerfully finish my bottle as mummy works my feet and legs into a fresh nightime outfit.  When she replaces my dummy and pockets the empty bottle I see that I'm being dressed in my favourite sleepsuit of fleecy fabric decorated with images of lambs, bunnies, ducklings and teddy bears.  The integrated feet provide ample cosiness for both of my tootsies.

"Mamma!" I bleet again, full of gratitude.

"These jammies will keep you all cosy, won't they, babykins?  You'll be all snug and warm.  Let me just do your dummy clip for you.  Voilà!"

After a lot of unimportant popper-fastening and nappy-crinkling I find myself in mummy's lap again.  Even though she's been working hard her scent is still lovely to inhale and perfectly combines with the wonderful tactile sensations that come with being encased in stretchy fleece nursery-print footed pyjamas.

"I think that we have time for another story, little one.  Would you like that?  I presume that there are no objections?"

I'm presented with the second bedtime bottle and the book of Potter tales appears again and 'The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies' is read aloud, bringing my day to a perfect conclusion.

On the approach to the last few sentences mummy sets my musical mobile into motion and when she finishes she notices my eyelids opening and closing arrhythmically and deals me a loving, tender kiss before swapping the bottle teat for that of my dummy.

"Mummy loves you.  You're my little baby.  Sweet dreams, angel."

I already have one foot through the gateway into the Land of Dreams as mummy checks that my blankets are positioned properly and that all of my favourite teddy bears are gathered nearby.  The sound of the crib rails locking and the warm sensation of a helpless nappy-wetting are unnoticed as I begin exploring the dream world's pleasant corners, where all little creatures are completely safe from harm.

The End.

[babystevie1987]

Amazing story. So well written

[Sarah Penguin]

[puffy_bottom]

This is a wonderful story.