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kerry

my overactive brain

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I went out to breakfast with my daddy/husband this morning, and we were sitting there eating sweet rolls and drinking coffee--it was a grown up breakfast, mostly--and talking about all sorts of things that were on our minds because we have not had much of a chance to talk this week, and a family with three little girls came into the restaurant.

Now a strange thing happens to me when I am around little girls. I am carried instantly back to that point in my life when my own girls were that young, when I could carry them and cuddle them and dress them in cute clothing and lift them in the air and whirl them around, when I could put bows in their hair and play with them and just generally enjoy their little girlish sweetness. It was one of my favorite times: I loved how they loved me; I loved how I loved them.

But all of this nearly violent wave of nostalgic emotion competes with another just as powerful one in my mind when I see little girls these days: not only do I wish I could have little girls in my life again, my daughters, my granddaughters maybe, but at the same time I wish I could be those little girls. I watch them with their innocent and joyful, excited faces as their mommy lets them pick out a pastry at the bakery, their eyes bigger than their ears, standing on tip toes to see what is on the top shelves, and I want to give them huge hugs...and at the same time I want to be the little girl looking at all of those treats.

It's bloody confusing.

I said this. I told him that at times I could not figure out who I am, and it's true. I'm a 56-year-old woman, incontinent because of whatever reason, dealing with that as best I can. I have grown children; I could have grandchildren if they give them to me; I will when they do. And I love being the grownup, the thinker, the writer, the analyzer, the player with children, the mom, the grandma-to-be. But some part of me also needs to feel the succor of being the child, the babe, the innocent. Some part of me needs to be taken care of and I can't mesh the two parts sometimes.

My new meds don't work. I didn't think they would, but somehow the confirmation of what I suspected has left me in a vulnerable and emotional state. I really am beginning to believe I will be in diapers the rest of my life, and I honestly don't know how I feel about that. If my husband took to his daddy role more, were more active in it and set aside time to indulge that side of me completely, maybe I could handle it better, but he has yet to feel comfortable enough. I know he cares and wants to, but he's unsure. Pure vanilla, remember? Even if he did, though: how could he? Where and when? My son lives with us; it's not as if we have tons of privacy. So I am languishing a bit, confused, stuck, trying to satisfy myself with wearing Bellissimos and sucking on pacis (that are often staying in all night now) and cuddling my large oversoft purple bear, but these are small things and they don't seem to settle my hyperactive brain down.

So I beat on, a boat against the current, borne on ceaselessly into the chaos of the future.
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  1. Frogsy's Avatar
    I think it's normal to have all those feelings at once. I mean, for ABs, it's normal. You want to take care of the child and be the child. It's similar to when we regress all alone. Part of us is a child, part of us takes care of that inner child ourselves. The caretaker inside puts our diaper on, the child inside feels as those she's being diapered. The caretaker inside us holds our bottle up, the child inside drinks from it. This is probably why a lot of people want to partner up with a caretaker, so they can experience only the one side all by itself!

    I think this is why you really want your husband to be a better daddy, so you can experience it to the fullest. So you can drop the adult side for a little while (the extent of the roleplay) and have someone else know to check your diapers and have someone else know when you want a drink, have someone else know to give you your paci. With him being new to the idea and not having these own thoughts/feelings before you brought them up, he probably doesn't really truly grok his role here. He must think, well she's 56 years old, she can tell me when she's thirsty. But we don't think like that. We want them to do it for us, to just know what we need even before we even know what we need. It's very idealistic and perhaps naive, but that's the dream an AB has for a caregiver. And perhaps because of the lack of privacy, your adult side is always standing at the ready, watching over even what could have been a very indulgent roleplay with your husband/daddy, ready to jump up and take control at any second. So you can't really, truly regress and relax.

    If your vanilla husband is open to it, my only advice would just be to continue having clear communication with him about his role and your wishes for his role. Be super direct when talking about it, as us women tend to sometimes hope guys will just read our minds. They don't seem to work like that. They often need to be told exactly what to do! I know it's more fun if maybe husbands could indeed read our minds and give us our dreams come true by surprise, but ruining the surprise of it is I think better than never getting the dreams at all. He might know that you want him to treat you like an actual child/baby (whatever age/s you go) but does he know the details of it? That's my best bet to help with that.

    I wish you luck in trying to make it work!
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