What seems to be my very first memory, oddly enough, is of having my diaper changed on my changing table. Perhaps that's part of where my attachment to diapers comes from? I remember one of my parents (though I'm not sure which, probably my mom) leaning over me, talking to me, and seeing the diaper being folded into place and taped up. It's a really nice memory, that makes me feel safe, happy, and loved.
I also remember the feel of baby wipes. Those things were darn cold! We had a yellow plastic cylinder dispenser for my baby wipes, with a photo of a baby on it. I remember the color theme of the label was yellow with orange accents, and maybe a dark green or blue in some spots. I could swear it might have been Baby Magic, the shape of the dispenser basically matched their bottle shapes, narrowing a bit right below the top before widening again, but I don't think Baby Magic started making wipes until the late 90s, so I'm thoroughly puzzled. The wipes hung around for many years, for cleaning up my plastic sheet when I had an accident (which is why I remember their smell so well), as well as sometimes for cleaning me, though my parents greatly preferred to have me take a bath. So many nights of suddenly having to take a bath in the middle of the night...
I also have at least one memory of being in the nursery at church, wearing a diaper, apparently without pants, and being fascinated by the texture and crinkle of the plastic and the landing zone, as well as the prints on the landing zone.
I also have memories of diaper packages being opened. I'm not sure if my parents were opening them, or if they were letting me help by opening them, but I clearly remember the repeating stacatto ripping sound of the perforated plastic of the bags. I think I was opening at least some of them, myself. I've long wished to have the freedom to replicate that sound. To be able to store my diapers openly enough that it's practical to just fully rip open a diaper package like that, with vigor. Instead, I'm always carefully opening them just enough to get diapers out of them easily, because the packages themselves are necessary to keep everything neat, contained, and easily hidden. I also think they've made the bags thinner, though, so I don't even think they'd still make that bass-heavy ripping sound anymore, even if I did tear into one, and current packages seem much less likely to want to happily tear only along the perforation, and not just go sideways suddenly and start tearing the bag itself.
I also remember just how comically large my diaper pail was, compared to me. I mean, that thing was at least twice as tall as I was, and about two or three times as wide, too. It was huge, about as high as my changing table was. I would not want to be the one stuck emptying that, if it ever got remotely close to full...
They say it's impossible for people to remember things from when they were babies, but...as far as I know, I was out of diapers at two years old (though I think my parents were crazy to do so; I had so many accidents, day and night, for so many years, but I don't even remember night diapers, just wet sheets), so I'm obviously remembering stuff from pretty darn early, and the more I think about it, almost every memory I have from my first few years of life somehow revolves around diapers. That might explain a lot...
I don't remember ever wearing Pull-Ups. I'm not sure that I ever did, honestly. I just remember diapers and then underwear, though my changing table seemed to hang around for a while. I think I was quite upset when my parents dismantled it and took it out of my room. I think my mom had to reassure me that it was in the basement, and they could set it up again if I needed it. I desperately wanted and hoped (and honestly, strictly from a practical perspective, as well as from a perspective of avoiding unnecessary suffering from frequent accidents, I still say I needed) to be put back in diapers. Seeing my changing table vanish was really disheartening.
I do remember my training potty, and the actual toilet phase of training, and how I had a potty book I'd read, where the main character was very clearly wearing a diaper or thick training pant of some sort. At least once I was using the actual toilet, I remember that I would sit there, reading the potty book, wishing I had some sort of diaper like the main character did. I loved my potty book, because even though it was a book about potty training, it showed someone my age wearing some sort of diaper, and it kind of made me feel better, and I could live vicariously through that character. I think my parents noticed I had a weird attachment to my potty book, and would tend to not turn the pages, and just stare at it...
I also remember being on a playdate with a friend, and at some point, his mom took him away to his changing table, where she very clearly changed him into a diaper, which struck me as very strange, since there were packs of Pull-Ups stored under his changing table, though they didn't necessarily seem to be open, yet. I think that I thought he was already trained, but...I guess not.
