Baby Switch Thoughts

Do you really have to pee so badly? Or is it because of that vibe in your inferiority hole?

littles who should be trained trying to hold it because they don’t want to go poopy (bonus points if it’s in public because they don’t like public potties) and that little bit that sneaks out leaves an ugly stain in the seat of their underwear and an even uglier smell that follows them around in public. Bonus points if the little goes for a fart and that extra bit just slides out between their cheeks.

Ah yes, even littles who insist they're fully potty trained can be a bit silly sometimes - especially in public when the potties might be icky and other people might hear! But hard as they try to hold it, as soon as even a little bit escapes, EVERYONE'S gonna know... At that point, they almost might as well give up!

“Is that a PJ set?”

“Yeah, um, I think it’s for big boys though.”

“Are you sure? It looks like it has little trains on it.”

“I know, but it says Men’s, look.” He points at the screen. “Can I have it?”

““Can you help me clean up around the house today? We can order it tonight when you’re all done.”

He’s having a new phase where he keeps talking about wanting more big clothes in his wardrobe. No more onesies, or at least no more new onesies. I’m kind of worried someone has been teasing him.

“Okay, we can order it later today.” I set down his plate of pancakes. He comes over and sits down at the table, kind of making a face when he settles into his chair.

“You don’t have a messy pull-up, do you?”

“No!!”

“Okay, just checking. You sat down kind of weird and you haven’t been making it every time lately, have you?”

“No, I’ve been doing pretty good…”

I pull my phone out of my pocket and set it in the table, opening the calendar app. “Let’s see…you had a messy accident three days last week…and the week before you had two in one day…Last month you only had a couple, and only one in your training pants. But you haven’t gotten to wear training pants at all this week, have you?”

“No, um, I guess I didn’t…” He looks down at his food.

“It’s okay! Don’t get discouraged. If you keep your pull-up clean today maybe we can try tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

I go back to eating. When I look up again, he looks worried, picking at his lip.

“Eat your food, baby.” I reach out and cut off a piece of his pancake with the side of my fork.

“I don’t need you to feed me…I’m too big for that.”

“Buddy. What’s up with all of this ‘big’ stuff lately?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t want to be a baby anymore. It’s embarrassing.”

I decide I’m not going to dance around it. “Did something happen at Davie’s sleepover?”

He hesitates, stirring the berries on his plate through the puddle of maple syrup.

“Nobody was making fun of you, right? I can talk to Davie’s mommy if…”

“Umm…I had an accident in my pull-up. At Davie’s house.”

“Uh-huh? What happened?”

“I went poop when Davie’s mom was reading us a story. I didn’t really mean to but I felt really sleepy and I didn’t think about it and just started pushing…” He wipes his eye with the palm of his hand.

“You pooped in your pull-up?”

“Umm…yeah. And Davie’s mom had to help me change. I thought I could do it by myself if I walked to the bathroom really fast and nobody would notice. But I was taking a really long time because, um, I started crying and I didn’t want anybody to see.”

“Aww, buddy. How come you were crying?”

“Because I missed you and I wanted you to help me but you weren’t there. So Davie’s mom came to the bathroom and she had to change me lying down. And she had me wear one of David’s diapers.”

“Ohh. But you weren’t wearing a diaper when I picked you up.”

“No, because it was really wet when we woke up and I had to get changed again. And everybody saw how saggy my pants were and Davie was saying how I was a baby…”

“Baby, think about that. You had to borrow one of Davie’s diapers. That means he still needs to wear them too sometimes. I don’t think you need to take it seriously if he calls you a baby.”

He wipes his eyes again, digging his palms into them. “Oh, I’m sorry. It’s okay if it still made you really upset. Aww, buddy.” I stand up and walk over to his side of the table. He reaches out and hugs my middle, pressing his face into my shirt.

“Here, stand up.”

“My pull-up isn’t clean,” he says. “I didn’t mess it but it’s really super wet. I went pee when I was playing.”

“Okay, let’s go change that. Stand up. Oh, I should have put a pad under you.” His pants are all wet in the crotch.

“I’m sorry! I thought I just needed to leak a little bit but I didn’t know I was going to pee all the way!”

“Where are you supposed to go if you need to leak? Even a little?” I put one hand on his back and help him walk to the bedroom.

“In the toilet,” he says, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Don’t do that; it’s gross. We’ll get some tissues in the bedroom.”

He presses balled-up tissues into his eyes while I undo his fly and pull his pants down. The pull-up is soaked and sagging.

“You’re not a baby. It’s okay.”

“But I have to wear pull-ups or diapers and I always wet the bed and I…”

“That happens to lots of grown-ups. Let me wipe you down. There. All set. We can get another pull-up on you.”

“Don’t bother,” he sobs. “Obviously I can’t do it. I keep making them messy and…”

“Shhh, shh. If you just need a diaper for today we can do that. Will that make you feel safer?”

He nods, sniffing, and I gently pull him down onto the floor. “Let’s get your changing mat.”

He lies back once I have it under him and he obediently lifts up his hips to help me get the diaper under him.

“You all good? Tapes feel good?”

He nods. “Let’s go finish eating and then we can have nap time. Okay?”

He holds my hand as we leave the room.

When we’re done eating we get into bed. The warm sun from the window is falling across our faces. I spoon him and he takes out his phone again, looking at the PJs again.

“What’s that other tab you have open?”

He switches to it and I see an adult pacifier.

“Do you want that, too?”

“No, not really…”

“How come it’s open on your phone, then?”

“I don’t know…”

“It just showed up on its own? The tab opened and Google searched for that all by itself?”

“No, um, I guess I kinda wanted it.”

“Were you looking at anything else?”

“There’s another PJ set on that site but it’s a lot more…um…” He pulls it up. These ones have shorts and they’re patterned with animals. “I think it’s a lot more for babies.”

“That one’s a little bit cheaper. If we get that and the pacifier it’s around the same price as the train PJs. What do you think?”

“Um…”

“Which one do you want more?”

He hesitates and I give him a squeeze.

“I want the animals one more,” he says quietly.

“Okay, you can have that one. You’ve been super good lately.”

“Even though I keep getting messy?”

“Even though you keep getting messy.”

“Would you be mad if um…if I got messy during nap time?”

“No, buddy. You have a diaper on. That’s an acceptable time to go poop. We don’t need to take the diaper off and try to retape it.”

“And I can still have training pants tomorrow?”

“I didn’t say that. If you go in your diaper, you’re getting another diaper tomorrow. That’s your choice.”

“Oh, okay.” He closes the browser on his phone and sets it down on the table before he cuddles in closer.

“What do you think?”

He finds my hand under the covers and squeezes it. “I really want to go in my pants. But you’re going to tell Davie I’m not a baby, right?”

“I’m going to tell him it’s not nice to make fun of you.”

He squirms.

“I know that’s not the answer you’re looking for. But I know you kind of like it when I call you a baby.”

“I’m gonna just go,” he says. I feel his back arch a little bit and then he makes a little grunting sound.

“You are so cute,” I say, smoothing his hair. “Close your eyes. I know you’re getting sleepy.” He’s definitely getting used to going when he’s tired in bed. That might be why he had the accident at Davie’s. But I know he really likes going during nap time when I’m holding him. He was half asleep in the car when he had the training pants accident.

I can feel the back of his diaper growing. He whines. “You’re good, bud. You’re almost done. Just relax, okay? I’m going to make sure everything turns out alright.”

“You good, bud?” He ignores me as he walks swiftly towards the bathroom. I pause the movie and follow him. “You okay?”

“No!! I peed my pants!!”

“Let me see. Oh no, you soaked them, didn’t you? Sit down on the toilet and see if you need to finish up. I’ll help you get your pants off.”

“I can’t believe that happened.” He keeps saying it as I coax his pants off over his bare feet. “I can’t believe I did that.”

“I knew you were doing it on purpose,” I say quietly, not really meaning to say it out loud.

“No, it wasn’t on purpose! I just was so relaxed and I just kind of…started going…”

“Uh-huh? You just kind of started going?”

“Well, yeah, well, kind of…” He trails off, looking down at the floor.

I help him to his feet and turn on the shower.

“I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry.”

“You said you just started going because you were relaxed, right? Were you expecting to have a pull-up on?”

“No!!”

“Uh-huh…” I’m helping him take off his shirt now. There’s a bit of a wet spot on the hem.

“Okay, um, fine. I kind of didn’t realize…um…”

“You didn’t realize what?”

“I didn’t know I just had pants on.” I motion for him to step into the shower and he does. “I wasn’t expecting it to soak through my underwear like that but then I felt it and I realized I was peeing my pants…”

“But you didn’t stop?”

“No, I couldn’t…I had to get up, um…”

“You’re meant to be trying to make it even when you have a pull-up on. Do you remember that? Turn around, I need to rinse your bottom.”

“Ummm…I usually always try…” I turn him back around and he meets my gaze before looking away. “Almost always…”

“Uh-huh…Is this why you keep having a wet pull-up in the evening? Because you only almost always try?”

“Ummm…”

“What? Are you getting shy about telling me? Pick up your left foot. I saw it had some pee on it.”

“Okay, maybe sometimes when it’s late and I’m tired it’s a little bit…um…a little bit on purpose.”

“Just a little bit?” I run the soapy washcloth over one foot and then the other while he grips my shoulder.

“Yeah, um, like…I just don’t really think about it and I want to go potty but I just end up…”

“You just go in your pull-up?”

“Yeah…kind of…”

“A ‘kind of’ doesn’t make your pull-up all wet and saggy.”

“No, um…”

I turn the shower off and get him his towel.

“No, I guess not really.”

“But you don’t want to interrupt what we’re doing, huh? Like when we’re watching a movie or you’re in my lap on the couch.”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Okay. I thought this was happening. But what did you tell me last time you had a wet pull-up when I was changing you into your bedtime diaper?”

“I said I had an accident.”

“Right. You said you didn’t notice that you had to go. Are you cold? You look like you’re starting to shiver. Let’s go get pajamas on.”

He follows me to the bedroom and I let him pick out his PJs.

I watch him set the PJs neatly on the rug. “I think you forgot something.”

“Oh yeah, my…” He opens the bottom drawer and fishes out his diaper.

“It was really naughty to go pee in your pants,” I tell him, pushing him back onto his changing mat.

“I know, but I said I didn’t realize I was…”

“You said you didn’t realize you didn’t have a pull-up on. You did know you were going.”

He puts his hands over his face. “I swear it’s a different thing! It’s not going on purpose it’s just not trying not to go!”

“Say that again and see if it makes sense.”

“Nooo, Mommy, it’s not…”

I have his diaper all the way on. I take his hands and pull him to his feet. “Help me get your PJs on you.”

“I can do it by myself.”

“Uh-huh? All by yourself? Whose PJ shirt was on backwards last night after he did it by himself?” That shuts him up.

“Diaper feels good, huh?” I ask. He quickly takes his hand away from the front of his diaper and plays his hair instead while I help him into his pajama pants.

He follows me back out of the room. “Can you make sure all the pillows and blankets survived your ‘accident’ without getting wet?”

He gets on his knees and sorts through them. I take the opportunity to smack his bottom.

“Hey!!!!” He looks over his shoulder, frowning.

“Keep picking up your pillows, silly. Any wet spots?”

“No, I think everything is good. Oh. Wait. No. The blanket is all wet in the middle…” He turns around, face burning.

“Okay. What do we do with that.”

“Oh! The washing machine.” He goes to the bathroom to get his pants and I listen to him make his way to the laundry room.

When he comes back I’m sitting on the couch. He has a new blanket draped over his shoulder.

“Can I sit in your lap this time? I don’t want to be by myself on the floor anymore.”

I pull him towards me and make sure he’s comfortable. I find one of his hands and slip mine over it, but his other arm is reaching down in front of him again.

“Are you feeling your diaper again?”

“No!! Stop!”

I kiss the back of his neck and pick up the remote to play the movie again. “What are you thinking about?” I ask softly in his ear.

“Um…kind of, like, um, I’m thinking about…um. Stuff.”

“Come on, dude. Try that again.”

“I’m thinking about peeing myself earlier! Okay? Is that not okay?”

“That’s okay. Do you want Mommy to do that for you?”

He starts to try to say something again but gives up and lets me loop my arm under his and find the same spot on his diaper.

“That feel better?”

“Go slower.” I slow down.

“You’re kind of demanding tonight, huh?”

“I didn’t mean to talk back! I’m sorry.”

“Maybe we need to turn the movie off and go to bed right away.”

“No!! Um…I mean, I don’t want to go to bed yet. Please.”

“Okay. No more telling me what to do. Who tells who what to do?”

“You tell me.” He squirms.

“Right. And I’m going to tell you that you need to get up and go in the potty. Even if you’re relaxed and sleepy.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to wear diapers all the time. Even when your friends are over.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Repeat that back.”

“I’m going to try to be better…unless I want to wear diapers all the time.”

“That’s right.”

“Do I need to decide right now?”

Oh, boy, there are so many other authors I enjoy reading on here! This list has been made before, and is definitely not exclusive (I often make these and end up adding to them as people remind me of who I miss)!

These are the blogs that I love who write more long form fiction:

@destinedfordiapers

@prettymuchpottytrained

@dearchloe

@mothergo0se

@diaperederica

@josies-corner

@hiddenbabygirl32

@diapydemon

@imtellingmommytoo

@rotten-apple-juice

@ameliemommy

@shushythedl

@fairiesthesecond

@emily8350

@the-girl-with-the-red-hat

@junipercommunes

@regressionschool

@rinicloverr

@diapergirlstories

@littlespace-astronaut

@paddedlittleparadise

@personalias

@all4thedips

@littledreambunny

@omnomnomdom

@boysrbabies

@paddeddweeb

@peculiarchangeling

@babyspank

@nycbabyjoey

@tentativetitlee

@thekinkyplayground

Mama! Mama!” she called out, a frantic edge to her voice. Clad in just her hoodie and panties, Ellie’s hands tugged nervously at the hem as she approached her mother, who was calmly seated with a book in hand. Vicky looked up, her expression softening at her daughter’s obvious distress.

“Ellie, what is it, sweetheart?” Vicky asked, setting the book aside and rising to her feet.

Ellie fidgeted, her face red with embarrassment. “I… I need to go potty, Mama,” she admitted, her voice small as she shifted from foot to foot.

Vicky’s eyebrows raised slightly, but she nodded, taking Ellie’s hand. “Alright, let’s go quickly then,” she said, leading her toward the bathroom.

As they reached the tiled floor, Ellie’s movements grew more frantic. Vicky turned to face her, her sharp maternal instincts noting Ellie’s hesitance and the slight glimmer of moisture on her schoolgirl

panties.

Ellie’s face crumpled as she realized what had happened. “I… I didn’t make it,” she stammered, tears welling in her eyes.

The woman child looked down at her wet bottom to assess the damage, her mama looking at her

Completely unimpressed, “How long did you habe to go for? And turn around let me see if your bum bum got wet too.”

“Ummmmm I dunno how long mama.” Ellie squeaked.

“Ellie,” Vicky said in a firmer tone, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “Just stand still and let Mama check.”

As Vicky tugged and prodded at the girl tutting at her naughty child looking at the wet stains all over her crotch and bum bum. The woman then tugged the pull-up down since Ellie had already leaked. The stains of wetness on her undies told the story.

Vicky sighed. “Oh, Ellie, what did Mama say about waiting too long to ask for help?” she scolded gently, pulling the damp garments down completely and setting them aside. “This is why you’re still wearing your pull-ups, young lady. If you want to prove you’re responsible, you need to start taking these things more seriously.”

Ellie sniffled, her cheeks blazing with humiliation. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she mumbled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Vicky crossed her arms, her expression firm but not unkind. “You need to learn, Ellie. I know you’re trying, but this is the third time this week, isn’t it?”

Ellie nodded miserably, tears streaming down her cheeks. She stood there, her bare legs and kitty trembling as she felt the weight of her mistake.

Vicky crouched down, placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard, but Mama expects better from you. You’re my little girl, but even little girls have to learn to take responsibility for their actions.”

Ellie nodded again, her voice shaky. “I… I’ll do better, Mama. I promise.”

Vicky pulled her into a comforting embrace, stroking her hair as Ellie buried her face in her shoulder. “I know you will, sweetheart. But for tonight, let’s get you cleaned up and into some fresh pajamas. No more waiting until the last minute, alright?”

He looks up from his food and picks up his plastic cup with the kitties on it. “I’m using this cup instead of a sippy cup. I think this is pretty much what big kids use.”

I just smile back at him. I don’t think he knows how silly it is to hear someone in his 20s reference “big kids”. I don’t think he knows that most people he would consider grown ups don’t call stuff “for big kids”, and I don’t think they would find his Kitty cup very mature, anyway. But it’s cute that he doesn’t really seem to have even thought of that.

He also wanted to have a plate that wasn’t sectioned, but it’s still a plastic plate with a frog design in the middle. And he’s wiggling a little bit in his seat.

“Are you potty dancing?”

“No!!” Now he looks at me with an angry expression. Or maybe a pouty expression.

“Are you sure? Let’s go potty when you’re finished eating, okay?”

“Okay, fine.” He picks up a handful of goldfish crackers and shoves them in his mouth, a few falling onto the table.

“Attitude. And table manners.”

“Oh, yeah. Umm. Okay, mommy. I’ll go try when I’m finished. Even though I don’t need to go potty.”

When he’s done eating he comes into the kitchen to put his plate in the sink and I glance down. He has a big wet patch square in the middle of his crotch.

“Okay, potty boy, let’s go to the bathroom.” I put my hand on his back.

He lets me guide him over with only a little whining.

When we get to the bathroom he sees his reflection in the mirror and looks down at the tile floor.

“Did you spill from your big kid cup?” I ask, watching him fumble with his zipper. “Here, let me get that from you.”

“I don’t remember…maybe…” he says quietly, sitting down on the toilet and stepping all the way out of his shorts and training pants.

“Maybe you still need to be using a sippy cup.”

“No…”

“Or did something else happen?” I pick up his pants and padded underwear. “I don’t think juice usually soaks all the way through to your underwear. Can you smell these for me?”

He leans down.

“What does that smell like?”

“Pee.” He looks back up at me, a sad crease between his eyebrows.

“Okay. I knew you needed to go. Can you try to finish right now?”

He shifts his legs on the toilet but nothing’s coming out. We even try turning on the tap. “That’s funny. It seemed like you really needed to go. More than the amount that would cause this wet patch.”

I help him get off the toilet and wipes off and washes his hands.

“Let’s put on a pull-up.” I’m already opening the drawer. “Pull-ups aren’t for big kids though! I’m meant to have training underwear!”

“We don’t have any clean training underwear, bud.”

“Maybe the ones I was wearing will dry and…”

“No, that’s not how it works. That would get smelly and dirty.”

“Okay…” He still looks hesitant and nervous. I guess he’ll take a little convincing.

“You won’t have to worry so much about having a leak if you wear this,” I tell him. “It’s okay. You like pull-ups, remember? Last week you wanted one when you needed to poop because you didn’t want to go or the bathroom at night.”

“That was last week though…I’m way bigger now. I didn’t wake up wet yesterday and I got to have a grown up cup…”

“Uh-huh. Okay, maybe you’re close to being a big kid. But someone who is ready for underwear”—I’ll humor him and let him believe that his padded training pants are basically the same as regular adult underwear—"doesn’t leak all the way through the cloth. Okay?”

“Okay, I guess maybe, um, I guess maybe I can wear one for now. But just since I don’t have any clean underwear now.”

Right, that’s definitely why. I mentally roll my eyes but keep a straight face as I help him step into the pull-up and pull it snug over his hips.

“Do you want to play outside for a bit? It’s so nice out.”

“Yes!!”

“You can work on your fairy house again.”

“Yes! Yay!”

He doesn’t seem to care about the pull-up now that he knows he can go play outside. But he gets whiny again when we realize that his only clean shorts are the ones with snaps along the inseam.

“But that’s for babies!! And they have a stain on them!!”

“Right, and who’s fault is the stain?”

“Well, it’s not because I pooped in them; I just dropped a marker on them when I was drawing…”

“Uh-huh. The pooping did also happen.”

“I know!! But it stayed in my pull-up! The stain is from the marker! Look, it’s purple and everything because it was a purple marker.”

“Okay, I’m just making sure we’re on the same page." I help him pull them on. One of the snaps has come undone and I bend down to snap it into place. “You are really combative today. Do you need to go on time-out?”

“No, I wanna go in the backyard…”

“Okay, let’s go outside.”

The screen door slides open. I was expecting him to go to the tree where he’s been building his fairy house, but instead he goes over to the sandbox and glances over his shoulder. He kneels down, legs spread a little, facing away from me. I know what he’s doing. His leg was fidgeting when we were in the bathroom and I knew he wasn’t done. And I know he likes pulling the soft, warm sand up between his legs and then peeing.

I give him a minute and he slowly stands up and walks over to the tree, squatting down and picking up one of the little chairs he brought outside.

“Hey, can you come over here?”

“Why?”

“I just need you to come over.”

He looks flustered, twisting his shirt in his hands as he walks over.

“Are you dry?”

He nods.

“Are you sure?”

He nods again but I’m standing close to him, pulling his hips towards me and easing down the elastic of his shorts.

“Why are you doing that? I said I’m dry!”

“Because I don’t trust you.” His pull-up is very clearly wet.

“Ugh, stop!” He tries to grab at my wrist.

“No,” I tell him firmly. “That’s enough attitude today. You’re going to sit over there”—I point—“for five minutes. I’ll set a timer and if you’re ready to apologize and be good we can stop at five.”

He frowns as he walks over to the fence and sits down.

I set the timer and sit down on the porch chair, picking up my book.

I look up at two and a half minutes and see that tears have started to slide out of his eyes. I look back down at the page, but I feel a little bit bad. Or maybe he’s being dramatic. It’s such an easy punishment. It’s not like a spanking or anything.

At five minutes I walk across the grass to him and pull him to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Can you use your words to tell me why you were acting out?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you still sure you’re ready to be big?”

He shakes his head, looking down.

“No. Aw, see, you’re sucking your thumb again. You know that big kids don’t usually do that, right? And that they don’t usually drink from patterned plastic cups or wet their pants.”

He nods.

“It’s okay though! It’s okay if you’re still little.” I slip my hand into his. “I’m going to go in the house and get you a change, okay? We can clean you up out here and then you can get back to playing.”

“Can I have another pull-up?” he asks quietly.

“No, it’s not going to be another pull-up. I think you know that.”

He nods.

“Okay, I’ll be right back. Hang tight.”

At first we was jumping and belly flopping on the deeper, soft snowbanks, but now he’s digging a tunnel or maybe building a fort.

“Hey, baby,” I call out, setting my hot chocolate on the patio table, “can we do a diaper check? Come up on the porch.”

He looks at me poutily. “Noo,” he whines as he walks up the stairs, gloved hand brushing the snow off the railing. “I wanna keep playing.”

“Come here, we’ll be fast.” I take off his coat and unbuckle the straps of his snow bibs, pulling his pants down. I pat the front and back of his pull-up. “All good. Aww. You’re so good at staying dry.”

He looks really pleased in spite of how much he was pouting a minute ago, smiling shyly into his shoulder.

“Are your cheeks just flushed from the cold,” I ask, pulling his bibs back up and buckling the straps, “or are you blushing a little?”

“I’m not blushing, Mommy! I’m just cold because you’re checking me out in the snow and not in the house where it’s warm.”

“I’m sorry, bud. I thought you were having so much fun that you wanted to stay outside.” I give his butt another pat and help him into his coat again.

He trots down the stairs again, snow crunching under his feet, and I watch him wander off where the tree branches are low over the snow, brushing the powder on the surface of the banks.

He glanced back at me and I pick up my hot chocolate again, looking away, up at the mountains.

Under the trees, he’s noticing that his bladder feels kind of heavy. He thought it was happening during the check but he wasn’t sure. It had just been a little inkling of a feeling then but now it feels heavy and prickly. He glances back over his shoulder. She isn’t looking at me anymore, he thinks to himself. I wonder if I can make it back to the porch without going in my pants.

But that would be soo embarrassing after he showed her that he was dry and she told him what a good job he was doing. He picks off a sprig of pine needles and folds them between his gloved fingers. His snow pants feel so good and soft.

Instead of going back to the porch he keeps wandering under the trees, hoping that the feeling will go away. But then he squats down to look at little bird tracks and definitely feels a tiny leak in his pull-up.

She probably won’t notice that, he thinks. It’ll get soaked up by my pull-up and my pants. And I can hold the rest of it for sure.

But then he grimaces with discomfort as he realizes that there’s another, even heavier, feeling pressing against his bottom. That’s right, he hasn’t gone poop at all yet today.

He digs himself a little hollow in the snow and sits down. Not helpful. Another big leak of pee soaks into his pull-up and he puts his hand between his legs, holding himself. Noo…oh no…he stands up quickly. Also a mistake. A little poop is definitely coming out. It’s really soft and he’s not sure he can stop it. He cups his hand on the back of his snow pants. Maybe she won’t notice at all, he thinks. Maybe it’ll all soak into my pants and I’ll…

That definitely isn’t going to work for poop. Why didn’t he try going earlier?

Don’t poop, don’t poop, don’t… He tromps through the snow. But then he can feel that more really needs to come out and stops, knees bending voluntarily. Has the pee soaked all the through his pull-up? It must be soaking into his pants, now, the way his thighs feel all warm. And even more poop is pushing out of him, filling up the seat.

“Mom!!” he cries out, running up the steps to the porch.

I set down my mug again. “Uh-huh?”

But he just stands there quietly, fidgeting with the Velcro on his glove.

“Do you have something to tell me, bud?”

“No. Never mind.” And he turns and slowly goes down the stairs again. Uh-oh. He’s totally waddling a little bit. I’ll wait for him to decide when he needs to tell me that he had an accident.

I watch him start to make his house again, but he’s clearly distracted. I look back out at the mountains.

Maybe we’ll go skiing tomorrow…I hear a little crunch in front of me and look up again.

“What’s up, buddy? Are you gonna tell me this time?”

“I had kind of an accident in my pants…maybe. I think maybe.”

“Which kind of accident? Can you cooperate and help me get your coat off?”

He lets me take it off, wiping his eyes.

“Let’s go inside. This check might take a little longer and you don’t want to get cold, huh?”

“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head, wiping his nose with his glove.

The door creaks as I open it and I usher him onto the tile next to the warm stove. I undo his buckles and slowly pull off his snow pants.

Are his pants wet under the bibs? Oh, yes they are. “Did you just go pee-pee or did you poop, too?”

“I think I went poop a little bit…”

I spin him around. “That isn’t a little bit, baby. You had an accident. It’s okay. Aww!! It’s okay. You don’t need to be so shy. This happens all the time, remember? We’re used to it. Ohh, baby.”

He’s starting to cry a lot, little gasps catching in his throat and I wrap him up in my arms, squeezing him tight and giving him little kisses on his head. “Let’s get your boots off so your snow pants can come all the way off. We can’t play in the snow for a little while. These are dirty laundry now for sure.”

He still looks sad. “Is that okay? Ohh, you’re okay. Here, Mommy’s going to wipe your eyes.”

I take him to the bathroom and he starts taking his pants off. I get him a couple tissues and wipe his eyes and his runny nose. “Come here and let me help you with your yucky pants.”

“Thank you…I’m sorry. Oh no. It’s so much. I’m sorry. I didn’t know I needed to poop until it was already coming out.”

“It’s okay! I don’t know why you’re so upset. You pooped in undies yesterday, remember? And that was okay and we cleaned you up and got you in pull-ups for today.”

He sobs a little again and I squeeze him close. “I’m going to need you to lie down, okay, bud? Let’s get a couple towels and your mat.”

“I didn’t mean to go poop. I started peeing and then poop came out too.”

“Did you mean to go pee? I know you kind of like going in your snow pants…”

“No!! You’re teasing me!!” He’s kind of resistant to lying down and I have to push him and pin his arms over his head. Once he’s settled I rip open the sides of his pull-up.

“Do you think you deserve another pull-up?” I don’t wait for him to answer. “No, I think it’s about time for a diaper. It was only a matter of time before you had a big accident like this.”

I pull down the front of his pull-up and he covers his face with his arms.

“What? Are you embarrassed about me seeing your poop? Aww, still?”

He nods his head vigorously up and down.

I gently get the pull-up out from under his hips and set it aside. “You got mess all over. Wow. How did you do that?”

“I sat down in the snow. I wanted to forget I pooped so I was acting like it didn’t happen.”

“You can’t expect it to change if you pretend it didn’t happen!” I lean up to kiss him again. “You’re so silly! Let’s get the water running so you can shower.”

“Are you going to help me?”

“Of course.” We run the tap for a second to get the water warm and then turn on the shower head. “Do you need a dinosaur to hold?”

The plastic dinosaurs are his favorite bath toys. He nods and I get one out of the drawer by the sink. He hugs it against his chest while I wipe down his bottom. I move his privates out of the way to get between his legs and then start on the front. “Are you getting a little bit hard down here?”

“No!!”

“That dinosaur doesn’t cover your face very well. I can still see your cheek, and your chin, and your cute forehead…” I give it lots of kisses and he wiggles.

I pull away. “Did you just get more hard from kissing? From forehead kisses from Mommy?”

“No…”

He’s finally all clean and I turn off the water and wrap him in a big, fluffy towel.

“Thank you for helping me so much today,” he mumbles.

“Of course. I’m sorry I made you so shy.”

“No…it was just so embarrassing that I went potty on myself so much.”

“Did it feel kind of good to go in your snow pants?”

He nods, that shy smile on his face again.

“I thought so. Can you help me clean up your messy pull-up and towels? We’ll do a diaper and then I’ll go make you toast and hot chocolate.”

During the diaper change he starts peeing again, clearly without meaning to.

“Oh no!! Oh no, I’m sorry!” He starts to try to sit up but I push him all the way back.

“Shh, sh sh. That’s what the diaper’s for. It’s for little—I mean, for super big boys who can’t always make it to the potty right on time. We’ll have to get one on you tomorrow before playtime. Snow pants are fun to pee in but they don’t always hold up so good, huh? I think that’s what he learned today.”

Don’t act like it’s a surprise! We both know your potty training has been going down hill a lot lately. We had to replace your pretty, colorful panties with all black to make the stains less noticeable. You’re wearing diapers to bed, what, four nights a week now? And when you don’t you’re up and down so many times at night, and you STILL have leaky little accidents most of the time when you don’t wear protection. Our couch smells like piss now too, thanks to you. You can’t drink anymore either without wearing a diaper with a booster!

Nope. You’re done - no more panty privileges for you until… You know what? I don’t even want you to hope you’ll get them back. This is you now: a little diaper wearer. It’s a good thing though! You don’t have to worry about accidents any more, or washing a load of undies several times a week, or carrying multiple pairs of pants with you. This is a blessing, really, for you to have someone who’ll take such wonderful care of you.

Like being able to make it most of the time. unless i'm scared, or embarrassed, or really focused on something, or really excited.