DonnieDiaper
Est. Contributor
- Messages
- 142
- Role
- Adult Baby
- Diaper Lover
- Little
- Incontinent
So I was 5 years old, still having frequent daytime accidents and wetting nightly. My soiling accidents had been reduced to maybe once every week or two during the day and probably twice each week.
Mom decided that she couldn't have a 5-year-old starting school in diapers, so I was switched to cloth training pants. (We didn't have pull-ups in the 1960's.)
By the time I entered first grade my daytime accidents were reduced greatly, and soiling accidents were about once-a-month. Night-time had not been so kind to either me or my mother. I would wake up wet every morning and there would be nights that my plastic pants would leak because the cloth training pants couldn't hold the volume of urine I was producing during the night. Mom went so far as to TRIPLE my cloth trainers at night, which lead to an absolute nightmare on the occasions when I would still soil myself in my sleep. Clean-up was horrible for both of us, especially at 3 AM!
Right about the time I turned 7-years-old my little sister, Donna, was born. Every time I watched Mom change Donna's diapers I would feel a twinge of jealousy, why couldn't I be more comfortable? Especially at night? I knew that Mom didn't want me back in diapers because she had already made comments about "the other mothers" finding out that my mom was a "failure," which would only embarrass and frustrate her further.
It was nearly six month later when the event occurred that changed Mom's mind regarding the idea of an older child in diapers. Middle of the night, and everyone is sleeping. Donna woke up hungry and wet. Mom comes upstairs to nurse and change Donna and then stops by my doorway to look in on me. I was out like a light. I was a VERY sound sleeper. Donna's wailing never bothered me, and Dad used to say that you could ring my bed with M-80's and I'd probably sleep through it!
Mom must have smelled it. You know, that distinct odor of a dirty baby, especially when the baby is 7-years-old, and done a huge B.M., that has leaked out of the trainers, out of the plastic baby pants, onto the sheets, and blankets, and comforter, and has been kicked around, and slid through. I am sure that my mother was thrilled to deal with this at two o'clock in the morning after just finishing up the care of a cranky 6-month-old.
I don't remember it all that well, because I was such a heavy sleeper, I went through the clean up and a bath while still half-asleep and nodding off frequently during the process. When Mom went to my dresser and found that I was out of trainers, because in the past few nights I had soaked and soiled every pair I had, she decided that she had had enough. If I was going to wet and mess like my sister, then the only solution would be cloth diapers and baby pants. Mom got some of Donna's diapers and refolded them to fit me. I actually do recall being diapered for the first time in over two years. Instead of embarrassment I felt relief!
The best part of the whole situation was that I would now be diapered by Mom every evening, taking turns on the changing table with my sister, Donna, for several years to come. Even better, ever since that night, Mom never once scolded me again for wetting or soiling at night. To my relief (and inner joy), Donna turned out to have the same problem with night wetting and soiling. (This, apparently ,is a life-long issue for both of us.)
Over the next few years the daytime accidents all but subsided, as long as I wasn't too far from a toilet. On the occasion that a toilet would not be handy, like a long car trip, or an extended outing to a park or shopping, Mom would simply diaper both of us.
Mom decided that she couldn't have a 5-year-old starting school in diapers, so I was switched to cloth training pants. (We didn't have pull-ups in the 1960's.)
By the time I entered first grade my daytime accidents were reduced greatly, and soiling accidents were about once-a-month. Night-time had not been so kind to either me or my mother. I would wake up wet every morning and there would be nights that my plastic pants would leak because the cloth training pants couldn't hold the volume of urine I was producing during the night. Mom went so far as to TRIPLE my cloth trainers at night, which lead to an absolute nightmare on the occasions when I would still soil myself in my sleep. Clean-up was horrible for both of us, especially at 3 AM!
Right about the time I turned 7-years-old my little sister, Donna, was born. Every time I watched Mom change Donna's diapers I would feel a twinge of jealousy, why couldn't I be more comfortable? Especially at night? I knew that Mom didn't want me back in diapers because she had already made comments about "the other mothers" finding out that my mom was a "failure," which would only embarrass and frustrate her further.
It was nearly six month later when the event occurred that changed Mom's mind regarding the idea of an older child in diapers. Middle of the night, and everyone is sleeping. Donna woke up hungry and wet. Mom comes upstairs to nurse and change Donna and then stops by my doorway to look in on me. I was out like a light. I was a VERY sound sleeper. Donna's wailing never bothered me, and Dad used to say that you could ring my bed with M-80's and I'd probably sleep through it!
Mom must have smelled it. You know, that distinct odor of a dirty baby, especially when the baby is 7-years-old, and done a huge B.M., that has leaked out of the trainers, out of the plastic baby pants, onto the sheets, and blankets, and comforter, and has been kicked around, and slid through. I am sure that my mother was thrilled to deal with this at two o'clock in the morning after just finishing up the care of a cranky 6-month-old.
I don't remember it all that well, because I was such a heavy sleeper, I went through the clean up and a bath while still half-asleep and nodding off frequently during the process. When Mom went to my dresser and found that I was out of trainers, because in the past few nights I had soaked and soiled every pair I had, she decided that she had had enough. If I was going to wet and mess like my sister, then the only solution would be cloth diapers and baby pants. Mom got some of Donna's diapers and refolded them to fit me. I actually do recall being diapered for the first time in over two years. Instead of embarrassment I felt relief!
The best part of the whole situation was that I would now be diapered by Mom every evening, taking turns on the changing table with my sister, Donna, for several years to come. Even better, ever since that night, Mom never once scolded me again for wetting or soiling at night. To my relief (and inner joy), Donna turned out to have the same problem with night wetting and soiling. (This, apparently ,is a life-long issue for both of us.)
Over the next few years the daytime accidents all but subsided, as long as I wasn't too far from a toilet. On the occasion that a toilet would not be handy, like a long car trip, or an extended outing to a park or shopping, Mom would simply diaper both of us.
