I just don't see why the rope harness is necessary when you can't even see it under my princess drehhHHHHHNNNNNHH--!? th-the princess doesn't think you should pull on that rope anymore.
oh my god, that's so embarrassing. did you wet yourself without even realizing it, cutie? aww it's okay, this is why i keep you in diapies, this was the expected result. yeah yeah, keep crying, little piddler. i know it wasn't enough to leak out your princess parts, you gotta cry like a little baby too. and here you were this morning, grumbling about how you're a "big girl" who "can hold it." where's that mentality now, hmmm? did it disappear just like your adulthood did?
that's okay. you're lucky that mama thinks it's cute that you can't keep your pants dry <3
The sound of little socked feet pitter-pattering down the hallway tickled your ears and you couldn’t help but grin.
This was practically routine for her.
Ever since you two had started this dynamic, she was generally open-minded to all of the changes in her life: the diapers, highchairs, binkies, and bottles. But, there was one thing she struggled with.
Bedtime.
Her bedtime was 8:00 p.m. sharp, sometimes earlier if she missed her nap. You wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her and an actual toddler upset about going to sleep before the sun was even down.
Eventually, she settled in with her early bedtime, finding herself getting sleepy earlier and earlier. You check your watch, ten-fifteen. You sigh, you suppose you should feel lucky, she normally never lasts this long.
You can see her messy little bedhead peeking out from behind the wall from the corner of your eye, trying your hardest not to blow your cover and let her know you see her.
She finally steps out from her hiding spot and into full view. You finally turn and allow yourself to take in the situation you're in. Her nini diaper is considerably soggier than when you put her down for bed, drooping low between her legs, her wetness indicator a bright blue, stars long gone.
Clutched in her right arm was her trusty unicorn, oatmeal, and her other hand was shyly fidgeting with her duckie sleep shirt. Wet little suckles of her Binkie sound off rhythmically throughout the room, that and the low tone of the television all that could be heard in the otherwise silent room.
“What are you doing awake little one?”
You ask, outstretching your arms to her. She toddles her way into them without hesitation. You engulf her in a hug as she settles her little bedhead on your chest.
The smell of baby powder and tinkle fills your nose and you chuckle.
“I can’t sleep,”
She whispers into your chest, her words lisped slightly due to her Binkie. You sigh, rolling your eyes a bit, you’re tired but you nonetheless stand up, bringing your little one up with you in your arms. Her diaper squished into your side and you cringe—no wonder she’s awake.
She’s in desperate need of a diaper change.
You make your way to her nursery as she squirms and whines in your arms, shaking her head no. Little whines in protest fill your ears.
It’s way too late for a tantrum.
“Sh sh sh,”
You soothe. “Daddy is just bringing you to get you in a fresh diaper, doesn’t that sound nice? Being all cozy and clean?” You try to reason with your over-tired, overgrown, toddler. After a moment of thought, she gingerly nods.
Tantrum averted, thank the world.
You open the door to the nursery, the nightlight lighting up the room subtly, you flick on the overhead light and make your way to the changing table, laying your little one down. She blushed, this was another thing she wasn’t quite used to.
You can’t help but smile as she looks anywhere but you, hugging her unicorn tightly to her chest. The telltale hissing came from her diaper as she nervously peed herself in front of you.
“Uh oh, is my little girl going potty for Daddy? I think she is! Oh yes she is!”
You can’t help but tease her as you tickle the exposed part of her tummy. She wiggles and squirms beneath you, giggling sleepily as she rubs one of her tired little eyes.
“Dadddddy”
She whines, her Binkie falling from her mouth. You promptly back off, not wanting to rile up the little one right before you put her back down for bed. You gather the supplies from under the changing table, grabbing one of her extra thick night diapers, not wanting to do this whole diaper change thing again until morning.
You swiftly untape her well-loved diaper that’s snuggly fastened to her hips, earning a little whine from her but no further protest. After warming up the wipes in your hands you promptly wipe your little girls out of use big girl parts clean of any mess she may have made in her sleep.
Before she knew it, you had her little legs lifted in the air as you were sliding a new, thicker diaper under her tush, praying this one would last this time. As you're taping this one up on her hips you know it’s time to tuck her back in.
“Okay, baby, back to bed with you.” You say as you lift your little one off the table.
She moans in protest. “But daddy! M no seepy!” She says defiantly, huffing a bit as her little feet land on the plush carpet. As tired as you are, you can’t help but entertain her.
“Oh, you're not? Then what do you suppose we do, little one?”
Her eyes light up at your inquiry. She jumps up and down, clapping excitedly. “Oh oh oh! I know, daddy!” She shouts,
“We could build a fort, Daddy!”
How could you say no to her?
Thirty minutes later, your little one's room had basically thrown up on your bed.
After she begged and pleaded with you, you agreed to let her sleep with you for the rest of the night after making your fort. Co-sleeping wasn’t something you typically allowed—she tended to get a little too big for her britches whenever she slept with you for too many nights in a row.
But tonight was a rare late-night exception.
Purple and pink blankets were draped around your bed frame, making the perfect canopy for you and your little one. Fairy lights danced through the inside, and of course, all of her stuffies were invited.
But your personal favorite stuffie, was the one with the bed head, passed out in the middle of the bed, thumb in her mouth, with stars missing from her diaper.
There's something so littling about the diaper bag. The giant mom-bag that's so indiscreet, a constant presence following everywhere you go. Being made to carry it yourself! Knowing that mommy packed a change of clothes in case you have a blowout. And she put 3 diapers in there, which means she knows that before you get home, you'll fill your pants at least once. Probably twice! Going out of the house and wondering where you'll be on your day out when the inevitable happens...
i don’t appreciate you calling my Front Facing Princess Transportation Harness a “baby carrier”. prostrate yourself in front of me and the Transport Maid and apologize
I understand the urge to be little and be taken care, but I guess by my nature I just can't figure that someone... Likes to take care? Especially of me? It's so silly! Why would you want to change my diapers and listen to me whine and shush my crying and keep track of all my meds and allowance nd punish me when I'm bad ?
the feeling of being looked at with big adoring eyes full of stars and softness shoots electricity and warmth through my entire being.
the wiggly, crinkly, happy-sighing kid that chirps out a "thank you!" when I change her diaper is holding my heart and showing me how good I am at being good to her.
when my baby is worried and wound-up in stress, feeling her body slump and surrender into a deep breath in and out when I hug her makes me feel as bright and powerful as the sun pouring through the sky to show that the storm won't last forever.
there's so many reasons I love being a caregiver, but most of them orbit around my love for my baby.
fog haters are weak. you are walking in a cloud and it's making everything look like a moody detective film! the veil is thin and there could be a faerie 20 metres directly ahead of you! appreciate it!!
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