Cwis,
I just wanted to share with you my Memorial Day experience. Your blog entry, Message, was an integrel part of my weekend, and I wanted to tell you why. I'm also going to post a comment on it so anyone else who reads it will understand what I did.
Yesterday was Memorial Day and my parents and I all had the day off. We didn't have any plans, unlike most weekend days. It was just a day to stay home and get caught up on spring cleaning and lawn work. I planned to wash and wax my car, but that was about it.
I had read your blog entry the night before. I read it every day almost, so I saw the entry called Message as soon as you posted it. It had the effect I am sure you planned on, I went to bed feeling good.
My parents saw the episode about Stanely. I know they did because I found it in the saved shows in my DVR. I didn't watch it, as I didn't even know it was coming up. And they don't normally watch shows like Taboo. I bet they have never watched it, actually. So I knew that someone set the DVR for that show, and then watched it. They never said anything or acted different, but I've known for two or three weeks now and it had me feeling pretty weird around them.
I don't know what came over me yesterday, but I decided to address it. I waited until my father was getting dressed, and I sat down at the breakfast table where my mom was drinking coffee and reading the paper. I had my laptop in my hand and I set it in front of me and she looked at me strangely, because my laptop never leaves my room or my bag. It took me a few minutes but I finally got the nerve. I looked at her and said there's something I need you to read.
My mom gulped her coffee and set her mug down and looked at me. Ok, she said. And she reached for the laptop.
Just then I was like, fuck! I looked at the page and there were a ton of porny pictures up and down the right side. I was like, nooooo because she would probably faint if she saw some guy's baby powdered asshole. So I told her not on my laptop, mom, on my phone. And I right quick opened my iPhone, which has your blog bookmarked, and got the page all opened up so all she could see was the text. I moved next to her so I could kind of control what she was reading and held it in front of her. It's about diapers, I told her. She looked at me for a second and then looked down the hall to make sure my father wasn't coming out. Then she actually started reading!
I should mention that my parents know about my diaper habit. They aren't happy with it, and I did have to go see a counselor in tenth grade. But the counselor told my parents that I wasn't harming anyone and that there wasn't a lot she could do to cure me. (That was great!) The side effect of my parents discovering I like to pretend to be a baby is that my Dad actually bought me my car a few months later, and my Mom helped me get an awesome summer job through some connections she had. They thought that if they helped me "grow up" with a car and a summer job I wouldn't want to be a baby anymore, which goes to show how clueless they are about all of this. After they saw Stanley they probably were pretty upset.
So I held it out and she started to read. And as she was reading I said Mom, let me know when you get to the part about him paying people, let me know and we'll skip past it. She was like, he pays people? For what? And I told her I wanted to skip that part. I could tell she wanted to stop reading but she kept going.
She read for two minutes but it felt like she had been reading for two hours. My father walked in and sat down, and I was thinking DAMN! she'd stop now, but she didn't. After two minutes she stopped and looked at me. This person curses a lot, she said. Leave it to my Mom to focus on one thing, and not the thing I wanted her to. I said Mom, you just have to ignore that part. She went back to reading and I heard my father laughing to himself. After another minute or so she told me You know, I really could do without all of the curse words.
She kept reading, and as I scrolled I didn't notice how far she'd gotten. She was reading the part about you paying fifty people to wear diapers. And she stopped reading and closed her eyes. Then she opened them, and her eyes were all watery. And she said Don't YOU ever do that.
I was actually starting to tear up a little bit, and I felt at that moment like I had made a mistake. I'd shown her a blog entry that I thought she'd get something out of, but I should have known that she would get something totally different out of it then I would. It's like you said, people who don't have our instinct aren't going to be able to understand. My face was red, and my father was looking at us both now. I started to pull my phone away from her but she clutched it. And then she said: Don't you ever pay someone to do this with you. I want you to find one person, one person who makes you happy, to do this with you. I actually started to cry a little.
My father was like, NOOOOOO and I watched him shaking his head. He must have heard us talking, or sensed what she was reading. And my Mom looked straight at him and said Read this, honey, and you'll understand. My father reached out for the phone and my mother held it tight and said After I'm done you can read it.
I wasn't planning on sharing it with my Dad, I hoped that she would just tell him about it. NOOOOO!
My Mom read all the way until the end. My father just sat there pretending to read the newspaper with his face all red.
My Mom got to the end and turned to face me. She told me, Your father and I had you potty-trained by age two, you know. I wasn't sure if this was the beginning of a conversation about how I shouldn't wear diapers, or just a statement. I replied with what came into my head: You must have been proud.
We've ALWAYS been proud, my father told me. I thought, uh oh Dad, you haven't read it yet. At that moment I wasn't sure how to proceed, but my Mom handed him the phone. He scrolled up to the top, where your banner is, with TXHayden in his diaper, and looked at me.
I'm straight, Dad, I told him.
Me too, he said, joking. Then he scrolled down.
Just scroll down, not sideways, Dad, I told him. He gave me this look and said I know how to use an iPhone... but I watched as he scrolled sideways and then, right back to the entry. He rolled his eyes a little and kept going.
As he read his face was like a poker face. He didn't look angry, sad, happy, amused. Not even bored, really. He just looked like he was reading an article in the Wall Street Journal or something. Every once in a while he would look up at me, but then look back down and keep going.
He finally spoke. Frankly, I think the swearing might add to it a little, he said to my Mom. She rolled her eyes. My Dad has always cursed a lot, and my Mom not at all. I was like... leave it to these two to read an article about diapers and debate the fact that the author of the article has a potty mouth.
He kept reading. And kept reading. And kept reading. At one point I thought maybe he was just pretending to read so he didn't have to talk to me about it. But then he said, You know, paying people to wear diapers could get you arrested. I told him that I didn't think that wearing diapers was illegal, and he quoted, word for word, Some were bi-curious guys who wanted to more than just wear. He looked back up at me, and I shrugged. He kept reading.
Dope in this instance means good, I take it? he asked me. I nodded. And he said this: You know, your Mom and I have ALWAYS thought you were dope as fuck. The words actually sounded funny coming out of his mouth, but I could see he wasn't laughing. My dad was actually tearing up a little. I was too, and my Mom had been for a while, and she nodded and said That's right, honey. I could tell that, if my Mom was agreeing to the use of the F-word, they must mean it.
My Dad got done reading and he put my phone down. Then he said You know, whoever wrote this should really do an abridged version, for the parents. Make leave a few parts out, clean it up a bit.
I'll tell him, I said, and my father looked surprised. You know him? he asked me. I just read his blog, I said. My Dad didn't really know what to say for a minute, and then he picked the phone up and actually started reading the entry again.
You know, he told me after a minute or two, your Mom and I happened to catch that episode of that show with the adult baby on it.
I wanted to call him on lying, since I knew they'd recorded it and watched it later, but this wasn't the time. I had a surprised look on my face, I think more because he shared this with me than anything, so he repeated himself. And then he told me that they both agreed that they thought that the guy in the TV show seemed troubled, and it seemed like he needed help. I was trying to figure out what to say to that and my Mom spoke up and said that they thought that not because he wore diapers, but because it seemed like he had trouble facing the world.
In fact, my father told me, I think the most normal thing the guy might do is wear diapers.
I was like... uhhhhh... and probably had a deer in headlights look on my face. It almost seemed like my Dad was accepting diapers or something.
Do you think this is actually instinctual? he asked me. I told him I didn't know, but that you (Cwis) knows a LOT about it, and that you think so. My Dad then said Well, there's probably not a lot of experts on this subject.
Then he said something to the effect that when I was a baby he and my Mom took very good care of me. And my Grandparents came to stay with us and they took care of me too. And my father's brother, who died in a car accident when I was a baby, came and stayed for a week too. And the whole family took turns taking care of me.
You probably weren't in a crib for more than a few hours a day, he told me, and I could tell by his voice that he was trying not to cry at all. In between Grampa and Gram holding you, and Uncle Mike carying you around outside, and your Mother and Me, you were held and cared for and loved as much as any other kid in this world.
I know, Dad, I told him.
My Mom said AND... you were probably only in a wet diaper for seconds before one of the five of us would swoop in and change you.
That was a little embarassing. I said I know, Mom, but truthfully I had never heard that before, and it was kind of something that I really liked hearing.
So if this IS environmental, my Dad said, maybe it's that you were the object of so much love, and so much attention, as a baby, that... and he stopped talking and got up and walked into the kitchen so I wouldn't see tears in his eyes.
My mother then told me that she and my father were planning to talk to me after the Stanley show, but hadn't figured out how. She said they were afraid to bring it up because they thought maybe I'd "quit" (lol!) and they didn't want to remind me, but my father waved the phone in his hand and said he didn't think it was something you could just quit.
Cwis, at that moment I was crying, and my Mom and Dad were crying. The fact that my Dad said, out loud, that he didn't think it was something that can be quit, you have no idea how amazing that was. It was like he was trying to convince my Mom and me that we needed to accept my diaper habit for what it was: a part of me.
My Dad sat back down and handed me the phone. Then he was like, Your Mom and I want you to know that we don't ever want to see you on television in a diaper. And I am hopeful that I will never see a picture of you on the internet in a diaper. Because we want what's best for you, and we're not sure that's it. But we want you to know that we love you, diapers and all.
He then threw in something about not being willing to build me a high chair. With my Dad, the last word must always be a joke, it's just how he is.
My Mom told me that they wanted me to be happy. And that, if I found a diaper mate, that would make them as happy as if I found one who wasn't in to diapers. We'll support you no matter who you find, as long as that person makes you happy, she said.
My father left the room at that moment and my Mom leaned toward me. She whispered something about how it was a long summer, and they were going on vacation for two weeks in July, and how I should get the diapers out of my system before I went back to school in August.
And then she threw in, I don't mean "out of your system". I just mean, you have to me more careful at school. So here, don't be afraid to do whatever it is you need to do. Just don't pay anyone, and don't use the F-word in every sentence. (Humor... LOL)
Cwis... your blog entry Message made me feel pretty damn comfortable with myself. I don't know how I got the courage to share it with my parents, but I guess I've wanted to talk to them about this for a while, and giving them something to read really helped. My Dad suggested you write an abridged version of your entry, and I cannot agree with him more.
My parents probably would have brought this up eventually, and if they hadn't I would have. But I wanted you to know that this entry actually REALLY helped me. Your blog is "dope as fuck" to begin with, but thank you for what you wrote the other night. You rock, dude.
Respecfully,
Dyl (my real name)
PS - I wish that you had gotten to grow up in my generation, instead of the one before me. If you were in my college right now I know you'd be having the time of your life and we'd be close friends. Plus, at $30 a pop, with 50 diaper sessions you're looking at $1,500. That's at least 15 cases of Bambinos we could be wearing together! [Humor... my whole family's way of ending a conversation LOL]
