Baby Pictures: Shawn - Part I

Shawn is a 24 year-old - or is that 2 - 4 year old, hmm - from Minneapolis. He is currently looking for a daddy!

You can find his pictures at www.rupadded.com/j17diaper . Want to get to know this kid? YIM = hottie_msp2010.

Thanks for sharing some adorable baby pictures!
































More to come...

Pampers DryMax Alert!

ALERT: Seattle Firm Investigating Pampers DryMax Claims!

It seems that Pampers' new superdiaper, Pampers DryMax, may be causing chemical burns in some babies. Are you one of them? You can get answers to your Pampers questions at Pampers Village:

http://www.pampers.com/en_US/parenting-forums/feedback-and-discussion/dry-max-chemical-burn/1008743

Growing Up: The Cottage - Part VIII

Not the actual diaper bag I bought when I was 17... but you get the idea... hehe.

To read the entire "Growing Up: The Cottage" series, and other blog entries I've written about growing up, click here.

I've been writing about my family's summer cottage, a small one-bedroom shack-like structure smack-dab on a lake in upstate New York. My grandfather built it decades before I was even born, and it became a special part of the lives of my grandparents, parents, andso many family members and friends. I recognized it's specialness at a very young age. It became a part of most of my childhood memories worth remembering, and remains just as special today. It's the basis for my love of the water; if you know me you know what I'm talking about. Most of all, it gave me a place to experiment with my toddler alter-ego. I'm writing about some of those experiences here...

The Cottage: Cwis Goes to Open Sea

I'll never forget the moment I saw them.

It was a commercial on television. It was a powerful moment. As weird as it sounds, the product connected with me. It was like subliminal messaging on the part of the marketers was speaking to me from behind the TV screen. "Cwis... buy us... you have to have us."

I don't usually connect with diaper commercials. The commercials for kids' diapers feature toddlers or infants, and connecting feels too close to a brush with pedophilia. And adult diapers? They're for people who are... old.

Eww.

But I watched the TV commercial for the new Huggies Pinstripe Diapers the summer I was 17 and I was... well, hooked.

I think it was that the toddler in the commercial was wearing a business suit - featuring a pinstripe diaper.

The diaper was supposed to look businesslike.

I could picture some diaper designer running out of ideas and saying... I know! Let's make one that's fit for the boardroom!

It was part of the new "Huggies for Him" and "Huggies for Her" kick, where they made different diapers for boys and girls, putting the padding wherever the pee went. Well, for whatever reason, for boys they came out with their business line. The commercial of the toddler holding a laser pointer while giving a presentation to a boardroom full of other businessbabies... priceless.

In my mind I wasn't watching a toddler on television. I was watching me. I envisioned myself in that suit, wearing that pinstripe diaper, giving a presentation. And while the likelihood of that actually happening in real life may be slim... it was the first time I felt a real connection to a diaper commercial. Or to a specific diapers. The Huggies marketers had earned their pay; I had to have this diaper.

The diaper was white with blue pinstripes from top to bottom.

It was a pretty unique looking diaper. It was supposed to look like a business suit, but it resembled more of a Yankees uniform, white with navy blue. It looks so cute... so babyish. I decided to forgo my usual order of Attends and scoop up some Pinstripes for my next cottage visit.

My job as a lifeguard gave me Mondays and Tuesdays off, and I think I saw that commercial on a Wednesday morning before work. I had to wait the whole damn week to get my Huggies fix. And that week seemed lonnnng.

And, then, Monday morning was upon me.

I walked into the drugstore on a mission. I went past the incontinence aisle straight to the baby products aisle... and, nothing.

WTF?

They had every kind of diaper except the ones I wanted.

Had the Huggies people started advertising a diaper before they distributed it? Or was it such an adorable diaper that everyone else had to have a bag, too? Could it have sold out in the week since I'd seen the commercial? Had they been discontinued? Had I missed my chance to buy the disposable diaper of my dreams??

Was I just getting carried away?

I nearly bought a bag of Depends, I was so depressed. Instead I walked back out to my car, determined to try one more store before I gave up. I drove across the parking lot to the grocery store and went in. And lo and behold... not only did they have the pinstripe diapers... they had them... on... DISPLAY!!!

I walked up and grabbed a bag, excited. I turned around and strode to the cash registers. I was 17 years old, still in that phase of I-hope-nobody-sees-me-I'd-be-so-humiliated that we all remember (and, some of us, still know). At that moment, though, it could've been my own Mom and Dad in line in front of me. I would've pulled a pinstriped Huggie out of the bag, hopped up on the conveyor belt, pulled down my pants, stuck my feet in the air, and said "Tape it on me..."

That's how excited I was. These diapers had spoken to me.

It was like... I was meant to be the kid in that commercial: adult (i.e. the boardroom) but toddler (i.e. pinstriped diaper). It was... perfect.

I paid, got in my car, and sped down the Thruway, to the cottage.

Have you ever tried to put on a diaper that's just a little too tight?

It's one of the most frustrating feelings in the world.

I'd bought the XL size of the diaper that day. I forget how sizes were then, but they weren't like they are now... 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, etc.; they were like crawler... walker... or something like that. I think I chose 'jogger'. Whatever it was, I got the biggest size they had, totally understanding it was a gamble: I might be stuck with a bag of diapers I couldn't use.

Fuck it... I figured if I couldn't wear them, I'd just lay them out on my pillow and rest my head on them as I went to sleep. Something, lol. I loved this diaper. And I was hoooooping it'd be a fit.

It wasn't.

I'd pulled them out of the bag, one by one, and set them in a stack on the couch. I sniffed in the aroma of fresh baby diaper... and I kind of handled them, feeling the material. It had been a while since I'd worn a baby diaper, since I'd discovered Attends, and they felt much different. Much more... babyish? I was loving it.

But there was still that size issue.

Back then I was pretty fit. A competitive swimmer since I was a little kid, I did two practices a day six days a week, plus lifeguarded. I could stuff my little ass into a Speedo no problem... I was hoping I'd be able to do the same with a Huggie.

I knew almost immediately upon seeing the diaper that it would be a stretch. So that's exactly what I did: I stretttttttched that diaper out, gently but firmly, as much as I could.

When it was expanded to the best of my ability I got undressed and held the diaper under my ass, laying down on it on the couch. I stretttttched the tape on the right side... no problem. Then I went for the tape on the left side...

...problem.

It almost fit. But it didn't. I realized I'd taped the right side pretty tight. Maybe I could stretch the left side? Stretttttch... pfffffffffft! The tape broke off in my hand, and I was left wearing a disabled diaper that could never be used.

I don't know about you but, when I destroy a perfectly good diaper, part of me gets sad. And mad, of course. And I was pissed. I'd wrecked a pinstripe diaper! It would never be used by anyone, ever, because of me. I was irritated. In the boardroom that's called a 'write-off'... you just chalk up your losses and move on. So I wrote that diaper off, then picked up the next one and began stretching it out. Soon it, too, was under my bottom, and I was taping. And wouldn't you know... same damn thing. Cept this time, the other side tape wouldn't come all the way over. I was probably swearing as I undid the tape on the right side and attempted to make it a little looser. Refastenable tapes my ass... the tape lost it's stick and I was suddenly wearing yet a second loss.

Would the third time be the charm? I wasn't sure, and I was about ready to go digging in the trunk for a Depend. Still, I tried it... same stretch-out, same under-the-ass position, and then... voila! The tapes somehow fit! Excited I stood up, hoping to check out what Cwis in a baby diaper looked like. My diaper had other ideas and, suddenly and without warning, a tape popped. Bam! I was half-wearing a dope-ass diaper... and my face was red as hell! I had to try something else...

We'd recently done some painting at the cottage, and there was a roll of painter's tape left over. I grabbed the roll and peeled off two pieces of big, white tape. It wasn't very sticky, but it was all there was, and I hoped it would work. I grabbed diaper #4 and lay down. I held it up in the air over me, stretching it out, watching my reflection in the overhead window. Cute. Under my ass, fold up, tape tape, and then... painter's tape as a backup. And it worked. I stood up and walked over to the mirror, listening to the so-welcome sounds of crinkling, and checked myself out. Damn... even the painter's tape couldn't ruin it. Damn... dapper. That was one cute-ass diaper. I suddenly felt two years old, and I knew if I were faced with a choice between the executive suite and the car seat, it wouldn't be a tough choice for me at all.

I'd gotten up extra-early, and had gotten a jump on the day. Shopping, the car ride, and trial and error all done, it was still before 10 a.m. At the cottage the sun rose on the east side of the lake; the cottage sat underneath a cliff, and until the sun came overhead around 1 p.m. it would be brrrrr. I decided to seek some direct sunlight. Monday mornings the lake was pretty much deserted, the weekend warriors all but having gone home. Save for a few fisherman there would be no action on the water. I grabbed my shorts and a T, wrapped a few other diapers into it for no real reason at all, and walked out onto the dock. Sure enough, the water was deserted. It was time to go boating...

My grandfather had a rowboat he'd attached an outboard motor to, a boat my brother and I were free to take at will. It wouldn't seem like much to look at it, but the outboard was way too big for the boat and, as a result, the boat became a speedboat anytime you opened the throttle. Which was a good thing because, in addition the the thrill, it could also save your ass - the metal rowboat had rivets which had become lose and, if you stayed in one place for too long, water would slowly leak into the boat. Slowly, but if you were in the boat, a mile or two out, and it started to accumulate in the bottom of the rowboat, it didn't seem slow. I found it was best to keep it moving; the faster you went, the less water crept up into the basin.

I tossed my clothing and the diapers onto the middle seat and plopped my pinstriped behind on the rear bench. I pulled the rope and started the motor, and we were off. I knew I was taking a chance ripping around in just a diaper, but I figured it looked close enough to a Speedo, which anyone who knew me would've been used to seeing anyway. Besides, once I opened the throttle, it would just be a blur to anyone on shore anyway.

I sped up and down the shore. I was in heaven... Baby Cwis, in a pinstriped diaper, out on the water. Two things I loved, combined. Sure, it would've been cool to have a grownup driving the boat (hehe!), but I'd have to make due.

I was still about a half mile from the cottage when I felt it.

It started as a shudder. I looked down at the fuel tank and checked the gauge; still half-full. Or maybe it was half-empty, lol. Either way, I shouldn't be running out of gas...

Shudddddder...

Yet clearly something was happening. It was shuddering.

Chug, chug... chug, chug...

It began chugging, too, which - if you're an experienced rowmotorboater you know can't be good.

Chug, chug... shudder... chug, chug...

And, after about thirty seconds of shuddering and chugging, it wasn't shuddering or chugging anymore.

In fact, it wasn't doing anything anymore.

It had stalled.

I turned to the motor to begin investigating. I tried to pull the cord; nothing. I pulled the choke out and pushed it back in; nothing. I pulled the choke out and pushed it in while pulling the cord. Still, nothing.

I was... fucked.

The lake was fairly calm. But being such a large lake, I knew that currents and waves could pop up at anytime. I had to do something to get the boat back asap. But what?

There was one paddle in the boat. I tried propping myself up at the front and using that to propel me back, but it wasn't working and I was tiring quickly. Back to the motor... nothing.

I dove into the water, taking the tow line with me. I was a strong swimmer - the 500yd free was my event - and I was pretty sure I could swim the boat the entire half-mile. I was in a diaper, but there weren't any other boats around. I was certain I'd hear any coming up, so thought... low-risk, right?

After about ten minutes of swimming we'd only moved a few hundred feet. The boat began to feel heavier, and rope burns were beginning to irritate my hands, and I realized that I'd have to do something different. I climbed back into the boat, and was alarmed to see how quickly it was filling with water. WTF? The rivets must've gotten worse or something, because the boat was filled with six inches of water, and it was rising before my eyes.

Eek!

I located the milk jug we used as an emergency bailer and began scooping water and tossing it over the side of the boat. I was scooping fast, figuring if I could get it down a few inches it would be lighter and easier to tow; I'd just carry the fucking rope in my teeth or something.

While I scooped and tossed I marveled at my diaper. It had stayed on and remained intact. I was now looking at a bulging, soggy pinstriped diaper... it was kinda hot. Somehow the painter's tape had stuck. The diaper was saggy and heavy, but I was oblivious to it...

I was also oblivious to the sounds around me, and I barely heard the fishing boat puttering up from behind. The two elderly gentlemen fishing for trout were using a battery-powered outboard, the kind they make so quiet so the fish won't know there's a boat above that worm; the fish couldn't hear it, and I hand't either. Suddenly I panicked. I was in a diaper! And, not just any diaper... a pinstriped baby diaper! EEK!!!!

I plopped my ass down into the water and quickly slapped at the diapers spread across the seat; they flew into the water in between the middle bench and the front one. I then grabbed at my own diaper and tugged, pulling it off and wadding it up underneath the seat I was sitting on. I was naked now, and just as the men were upon me I somehow grabbed my shorts with a quickness. I had them on within seconds.

"I saw you in your pinstriped-diaper, and I told Cleve here, there's another young executive playing hookie for a day out on the water," the old man steering the boat said to me.

...

...

...

Just kidding! I wish...

"We saw you bailing, and thought we'd come over to see if we could help," the old man steering the boat said to me. My face must have been red, because he said "Don't be embarassed, son... happens to everyone."

The men scanned the boat, taking note of the water filling the bottom - and rising - and the one milk jug I was using for a bailer.

"Looks like you've got yourself a boat with a pool," the other man said with a drawl. "Lucky young fella... I didn't have a boat until I was 30, and a pool a few years after that!"

I could tell they were making fun of me, but their main motor was huge and I was certain they'd be able to tow me and my water-filled craft back to the dock, so I played along, laughing like I thought he was funny. The first man continued to scan the boat and then turned to me with a very serious look on his face.

"Son," he said, "you can't bail this boat out with diapers..."

The way he said diapers, with some sort of southern accent... it was almost like it was a three-syllable word. I wanted to laugh, but I could see he was serious. He must've taken me for some kind of white trash rube. I looked just as seriously back at him and said "Well, it seemed to be working... for a few minutes, anyway."

"Di-a-pers are absorbant, son, but... after a while they've taken all that they can take. And then their absorbant power is all spent. Kind of like your motor. They just... can't do any more." I couldn't tell if the old man was serious or kidding about the motor comment, but it was funny that he was lecturing me on the absorbancy power of diapers. I nodded along, and he pointed to the milk jug. "You oughtta just be using that..."

"Good idea, sir." I replied. I was having fun now. "Man, that's what I should've been using." The two looked at each other, and I could almost read their thoughts.

"Actually, since we're here now, I have an idea," the second man said. "Why don't the two of us just tow you and your boat to wherever you're going?"

I thanked them and climbed up into the front of the boat, tossing them a tow rope.

"As long as you don't mind if we continue fishing, that is..." the old man said. He pulled my boat toward his until they were touching and invited me aboard. His boat was nice, a brand new fishing boat with a cuddy cabin. I sat down on a comfortable leather bench - a contrast to the row boat's peeling wooden ones - and the second man handed me a bottle of beer. I didn't drink but I took a few sips to go along, and thought how lucky I was I hadn't brought my own bottle - or pacifier - into the boat with me today. OMG.

The old man powered up a little, letting the tow rope go taut. It was clear that they were in no rush, and they did indeed intend to continue to fish. So fish we did, puttering along slowly down the shore, my disabled dinghy trailing along behind. I was very eager to slap on my next Huggie and go back to being Little Cwis, but I didn't want to disrupt their day, so I quietly obliged, sipping my beer and joining in small talk.

About thirty minutes later the men had my boat attached to the dock and, with a wave, were puttering away, still fishing. As they drove off the second old man called out "When you're done with those diapers just throw them in the lake... that's what all of the yacht owners do, anyway!" It was nice to have his permission, but I'd already done that in the past, hehe. Still, I wondered what they thought a 17yo was doing with a bunch of diapers in the boat. Did they really think Huggies Pinstripe Diapers were a part of my emergency plan?

Minutes later I was back in a new Pinstripe, and back in Little Cwis mode. Albeit on dry land.

Well, dry for a little bit, at least... hehe...

I saw pinstripe diapers on Ebay last year, and even grabbed a picture of them, but I can't find it.

I Googled "pinstripe diapers" and found nothing.

But I don't think I'll ever see a diaper that gives me that punch-in-the-gut, excited-tingle feeling I got when I watched that toddler/executive on television and pictured me in his role.

I've worn a lot of diapers since, and nothing can even compare to how I felt that day...

Note: If anyone has any vintage Pinstripe diapers... email me!

iPhone App for RUP

I guess this isn't exactly a hot tip, since it's been out for weeks now. But I only just discovered it recently. RUP has an iPhone app. Now I can post 'baby' pictures to Facebook, tweet blog update alerts to my Twitter, upload nursery vids to YouTube, update this blog, AND surf on RUP... all from the iPhone? Put a Pamper on it, because this device is the shiiiiit!

http://www.rupadded.com/iphone

Join the Facebook group...

If you have a diaper Facebook account I invite you to join the Facebook.com/AbysitterBlog group.

Abysitter.com | Promote Your Page Too

I think you just hit 'like', or something like that.

And do me a favor... suggest the group to some friends! Spread the word... you guys rock.

Return of the Big Boy Bucket

I've posted them before, but fresh off of an upload to RUPadded and Facebook I thought I'd post 'em here again. I get more comments about the Big Boy Bucket than I do about any other pictures on my profile/s and/or blog... damn. People love the concept of taking their adulthood and locking it far away, apparently...

Oh, and for the record... no, nobody has used the Big Boy Bucket for a toilet. Yet.

Word Recognition and the iPhone: ABDL Edition

So I apparently type certain words so often the iPhone now knows what I'm going to type...







The list of possible embarassing situations is just beginning to form in my head...

Growing Up: The Cottage - Part VII

To read the entire "Growing Up: The Cottage" series, and other blog entries I've written about growing up, click here.

I've been writing about my family's summer cottage, a small one-bedroom shack-like structure smack-dab on a lake in upstate New York. My grandfather built it decades before I was even born, and it became a special part of the lives of my grandparents, parents, andso many family members and friends. I recognized it's specialness at a very young age. It became a part of most of my childhood memories worth remembering, and remains just as special today. It's the basis for my love of the water; if you know me you know what I'm talking about. Most of all, it gave me a place to experiment with my toddler alter-ego. I'm writing about some of those experiences here...

The Cottage: Caught... Almost!

I live for the water... always have.

So, for me, winters in New York were tough to deal with.

I mean, seriously... water in New York freezes in the winter. It sucks.

And the lake... while too deep to freeze over, the ground around it made it, at the time, nearly impassable.

So, for me, in the snowiest of weather, the cottage was inaccessible for months at a time.

I missed it.

It wasn't just the summer activities I missed.

It was the fact that, from age sixteen on, the cottage was my place to go to be Baby Cwis.

I was lucky if I could fit in half a day of diaper time at home. My parents or brother were forever coming and going, and there was little opportunity, save hooky days from school, for me to really get into the mindset of a toddler.

But at the cottage, I could go days as my alter-ego.

Stripping down to just a diaper and carrying my bottle and pacifier everywhere, I'd lounge on the beach, sit on the porch, and take naps in the open air in the living room, every window wide open to catch the lake breezes.

From December - March, though... diaper time was difficult.

Which is why, the spring that I turned 17, I couldn't wait to de-adult myself.

The first day the temperature went into the 50s, to the cottage me - and my diaper bag - went.

I remember thinking what a perfect day it was for diapering up.

There was little chance I'd be interrupted. No chance my family would come by... it was in the 50s - too cold for them - and leftover snow was still melting on the ground all throughout the woods which separated the cottage from the main road.

And the neighbors? Not much chance of being bothered by them, either. The ones on the north side lived close, but they rarely visited before June; the neighbors on the south side lived several hours away and visited only on weekends. Today it would be just me, the beach, my blankie, and a Pamper. I was stoked.

The first order of business was opening every window to let the stale winter air out of the inside of the cottage. It was only 50-something outdoors, but the sun was beaming and it warmed the inside of the structure to a much more comfortable temperature very quickly. Within minutes I had fuses plugged in, the refrigerator running, and sheets on the bed.

Next I opened the duffel bag which served as my diaper bag at the time. It was chock full of goodies, things I'd purchased over the winter but hadn't really had a chance to use. Pacifiers... a paci leash, at the time a newer invention... bottles... a rattle... diapers... coloring books and crayons... a Little Golden Book. I was stocked, and ready to become Cwis. It wouldn't be long now...

I crawled around on the floor in my diaper for several hours, sucking on my pacifier and coloring.

It felt so good to be Cwis! I'd been waiting all winter.

I don't know about you, but if you're a true AB you know what I mean. We crave 'toddler time' (or whatever age/phase we regress to), time to get into the mindset of our alter ego and just be little again. Going a whole week as a grownup is torture for some of us. Let alone weeks at a time. And fcking months???

[Collegebabies, I know you hear me! Hard to 'little up' at home, or in the dorms, right?]

So for the better part of an afternoon I played the role. I sucked down juice and soaked myself, then changed my diaper and did it all again. I played the 'bad baby' role, kneeling in the corner for no reason; I played the 'good baby' role and nibbled on melba toast as a reward. I was totally into it, and the fact that my soaked little behind was feeling the chill of a cold floor and chilly temperatures didn't stop my enjoyment; I'd just scoot over into the sunlight and let the rays warm my diaper whenever I started to brrrr.

I remember thinking... this, sir, is a bad idea.

I'd ventured out into the sunlight, dragging my baby blanket along.

Walking up and down the beach, I'd surveyed the damage the winter had done. I spent twenty or thirty minutes picking up sticks and branches washed up by winter waves, walking them over to what would become our fire pit for the season, and tossing them in.

After a while I was chilly, and a little tired.

I spied a sunny spot on the dock, and made my way towards it.

Walking out onto the dock, I set my blanky down directly in the middle of the sunny square. I looked around - up onto the cliff, out into the water, and towards the property on both sides of the cottage. Deserted.

So I lay down.

You probably shouldn't do this, Cwis...

The sunlight had already warmed the blanket, and it felt good to lay down. I let the sun's rays warm the back of my diaper... my bottom was toasty, and my back was feeling nice and warm.

My diaper was dry, but I had to pee. And pee I did, soaking my disposable. I turned over onto my back and let the sun warm up the front of the diaper, and then turned back onto my tummy, letting the back get warm again.

It felt so good to be outside, period. After a nasty winter, to be in my element again - at the cottage, on the water - I was ecstatic. The fact that I was Cwis again only added to my happiness.

I closed my eyes.

In my mind, I was two years old. My family was all around me, enjoying a summer day at the lake. Someone had diapered me and set me on the dock for a nap. Maybe I was in a cradle... maybe a playpen. I began to daydream...

My brother and his friends were skipping rocks into the lake. Someone yelled "watch out for the baby!" as a rock skipped a little to close to me. My brother yelled back "The baby's fine! We're expert skippers!" but the trio changed their direction a bit, and I watched the rocks bounce across the water's surface. It felt good, and I remember being impressed by the older kids' skills, hoping one day I'd be able to skip rocks like them.

My aunt ventured out onto the dock, bending down to check my diaper. "Gooooood boyyyyyyy... all dwyyyyyyy," she said, rubbing my tummy. I giggled a little, and she continued out onto the dock's end, sitting down in a lounge chair relaxing in the sun. My cousins Jimmy and Danica joined her a minute later, walking by me with not so much as a glance. Jimmy carried three sodas, and he passed them out to his mother and sister, and the three sat sipping their drinks and watching boats float by. Every once in a while Jimmy would yell something to a boater, and my aunt would shush him. "Do you want to wake up Little Cwis?" she'd ask. He'd quiet down immediately.

My uncle walked down the steps with a pizza, and the entire family was upon him like seagulls, everyone grabbing a slice. I watched sleepily as my brother and his friends took their slices and a 2-liter of Tab over the the rowboat. They got in and began rowing out towards the dock, my brother reaching his hand into the water and giving me a splash as they passed. The other boys laughed, and I wished I were in the boat, too. My cousins passed me again, Jimmy slurping his soda, and I was suddenly thiwsty. I reached out for it and he laughed, batting my hand away. "Be right back," he said to his sister.

I watched the rest of my family walk past me onto the dock, the smell of pizza wafting in the air. I was hungwy too, now, but I could see the pizza box in the fire pit. There was none left for me. I'd had pizza before! At Jimmy's birthday party! They knew I loved it. It wasn't fair! I watched as each and every member of my family chomped their pizza and slurped down soda. The box taunted me... I wanted to climb out of my cradle and crawl down the dock, punch my uncle in the knee, and grab his slice when he bent over!

"Is Cwissy hungwy?" Jimmy was back, a slice of pizza in his hand. He extended it toward me and I reached for it. "NOT SO FAST!" he said, sounding irritated and looking surprised. He turned and set the slice down on a piling, and I saw what was in his other hand: a jar of Gerber ravioli. Greattttttt... everyone else gets New York PIzzaria, and I get pureed, processed baby food. Jimmy pulled out a spoon with an alligator handle and dug in, scooping out a giant disgusting bite and holding it out. I wished an alligator would come out of the lake and bite him on the butt! I closed my mouth and looked toward his pizza, scowling. "Eatttttttt," he ordered. I reluctantly opened my mouth and took a bite. YUCK! I wanted pizza. Jimmy put the spoon back in the jar and picked up his slice with his free hand, practically waving it under my nose before taking a giant bite. It looked delicious! My eyes followed it from the piling to his mouth and back to the piling and JImmy noticed, laughing. "Does Cwis want pizza like the big kids?" he asked. He held the pizza out toward me and I wanted to hug him! I leaned out of my cradle a little, ready to take a bite, and he yanked the slice back. "When Cwis is a big kid he can have big kid foods," Jimmy said slyly, and someone yelled for him not to tease the baby. Then he was scooping, and the spoon was back with more yech. NOT FAIR! Gerber ravioli isn't even a substitute for real ravioli; certainly not for pizza.

The jar was gone and Jimmy pulled a bottle of milk out of his swimsuit pocket. He held it out and I took it, putting it in my mouth. As I slurped he leaned in towards me, wiping sauce off from around my mouth. As he did, he whispered to me: "Now Cwis has had a nice meal and it's time for him to take a nap. I know you get excited when there's so much stuff going on. I'm going to be looking over here... I want to see your eyes closed and you trying to sleep. If I don't..." Jimmy left it hanging, but I imagined him swatting me when nobody was looking - he'd spanked me once, hard, for just spilling a cup of juice, and none of the grownups had seemed to mind. I closed by eyes and pretended to sleep, and soon Jimmy was back in conversation with the rest of the family.

I lay still, and sun's rays beaming down on me. I almost opened my eyes a little to see if Jimmy was watching me, but each time lost the nerve. Soon I was drifting in and out of consciousness... I felt someone rub my tummy as they passed, but wasn't quite sure who it was. Someone put their finger in my diaper feeling for poop, and patted my bottom when they found none. I sucked on my Nuk, dozing, feeling safe and secure, my family all around me and my needs met; even if I couldn't get pizza, I had just about everything else a toddler could want.

Yip! Yip! Yip!

The neighbor's dog darted out onto the dock, and I heard footsteps and squeals of laughter soon after. I slowly, groggily opened my eyes and looked out, watching their Yorkie pace up and down their dock excitedly.

Wait a minute...

...holy shit!

The neighbor's dog darted out onto the dock, and I heard footsteps and squeals of laughter soon after. I slowly, groggily opened my eyes and looked out, watching their Yorkie pace up and down their dock excitedly.

"C'mon, Mom!" a little girl shouted. "Race you to the dock!"

And suddenly I realized...

...I was 17 again.

A high school junior.

Laying out on the dock. In a diaper.

And the neighbors... were here.

I'd fallen asleep.

I jumped up fast as fuccccck, wrapping my baby blanket around my waist, and waddled down the dock, towards the cottage.

Just as I stepped onto land I saw the form of a child come around the bend. I took three or four giant steps toward the porch, stepping inside and closing the door just as the children passed the fence and came into view.

I was safe...

I remember sitting my diapered bottom down right under the window that borders the neighbor's property.

"Look, Janelle," a man's voice said. "The neighbors have all the windows open. We should do that."

Whew! They must not have seen the cottage yet...

I imagined them being there for an hour or more, walking out onto the dock and seeing 17-yo Chris lounging in Luvs. What would they have thought?

"Should we see if he's home?" the female said, and, startled, I looked at my pants clear across the room by the door. It would be a race on my tummy to the pants if I was to beat them to the door. Just as I began to scoot the man told her to let me be. "He's probably taking a nap..."

I had been. And it had been glorious.

Shocked back into adulthood by the intrusion, I was forced to sit quietly for more than an hour until, having seen their own beloved property on the first spring-like day, the neighbors all piled back into their car for the ride back across town.

I was free to be Cwis again.

But it wasn't quite the same.

I vowed never to fall asleep in a diaper outdoors again.

A vow I'm happy to report I didn't keep.

Coming Soon...

Caught again???????

Sometimes the coolest thing about someone...

...is who they're not willing to be friends with. Moreso than who they are.

- Cwis

Diapers: The Stash

Snapped a pic to share with someone today, and thought I'd share. Love seeing 'diaper stash' photos.

The underwear that's fun to wear?

Thanks to a tip from a little toddler Texan I went to Wal-Mart and found these... Underoos-style boys briefs size XL. Lots of different styles... they're destined to look cute on somebody...










Three-packs for $5... good price, too. Cheaper than anything you'd find online... right down the street at Wal-Mart.

YouTube Tuesdays: Expanding Our Horizons - Czech

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I'm on Facebook! And YouTube! And Twitter!

This week I've gotten maybe three, four Facebook requests from ABDLers on my personal (non-diaper) profile. I was like... WTF? I figured that friends of the few diaper friends I've added might be sending me requests after going thru and seeing me in friends lists, but I wasn't sure. Then I saw that RUP has a new Facebook page, and I realized where all of the requests were coming from.

So today I created a Facebook page that's meant to be diaper-friendly. If you're a 'personal' friend on my other Facebook, stay there. For everyone else, especially those of you with diaper-this or diaper-that in your name... hit me up!

Cwis Abysitter

Definitely want some Facebook friends so feel free to request me! It's www.facebook.com/abysitter.

Also, I'm on Twitter... www.twitter.com/abysitter.

And on YouTube... www.youtube.com/abysitter. Sensing a pattern here?

...so if you don't get enough of me here or on the diaper sites, hit me up in any of those places. Much more to come...

Stay Damp,

Cwis

25,000 Views!

Add +300 to the counter. And you may be visitor #25K. I was visitor number 24,999 from my iPhone. Woot, woot!

AB Universe Cushies - The Unboxing

After a week in which the Apple iPad spawned about ten thousand 'unboxing' videos on YouTube I figured I'd do an 'unboxing' of my own: my new AB Universe Cushies diapers. Turn your speakers way up, because I filmed it on my iPhone, and the sound is extra-low.

Not sure if y'all will be as excited about this product as people seem to be about the iPad but, in my humble opinion, the Cushies are to ABDL as the iPad is to... well, pretty much everthing else. Enjoy...

And a few still shots...

These diapers are hawt!