Adult Babysitting

Adult Babysitting

Adult Babysitting

I had been an AB/DL for a long time, wearing diapers at night during the week and sometimes all weekend whenever possible. I had a decent job, nothing special but it paid the bills. Sometimes during the long work days I would daydream about being in diapers, wetting and soiling whenever I needed to.

To make myself feel even more like a baby, I bought some footed pajamas, a couple of stuffed animals, an adult-size pacifier, and a waterproof mattress cover. The pajamas zipped up the front, and once I put them on over my diaper, I didn’t take them off until morning. The mattress cover let me stay in a diaper all night without worrying about leaks.

Of course, as an adult I still had bladder and bowel control, so I had to adapt in some ways to become a baby. A real baby will go to bed dry and wake up wet in the morning, but I couldn’t do that, so I did the next best thing: Whenever I woke up, whether it was during the night or in the morning, I would wet as soon as I was awake enough to know I had to go, and I would not change position before wetting. Also, I never looked at a clock during the night, since a baby can’t tell time. During the week I used an alarm to wake up for work, but on weekends I would just lie in bed and doze until I felt fully awake. Sometimes I would sit up and play with my stuffed animals before getting out of bed. If I had woken up during the night to pee, sometimes in the morning I didn’t need to go right away, but after playing with my stuffed animals for a while I might wet again. Or I might wet on the way into the kitchen to make breakfast. Whenever I wore diapers during the day, as soon as I felt the slightest tingle in my bladder I would relax and let go, enjoying the feeling as the tingle grew stronger until I couldn’t stop it and warmth started spreading in the front of my diaper.

Babies don’t often know or care if their diaper is wet; an adult has to check, which happens at random times. It could be right after the baby has wet, or the baby could sit in a wet diaper for 40 minutes. Sometimes a grownup could check just before the baby wets. So I decided that whenever I looked at a digital clock during the daytime, the time of day would dictate whether I would change myself. If the time ended in an even number of minutes, I would “check” my diaper and change it if it was wet; if an odd number, I would not check. Also, if I rented a movie or watched a show on TV, I would not change my diaper for the entire length of the movie or show, even if I was already wet when I started.

But I wanted something more. One day I was surfing the net and came across a web site for an adult babysitting service. They had a house in which one big room had adult-size cribs, high chairs, and changing tables, as well as a rocking horse and other toys. I thought about this for a few days, then decided I wanted to try an overnight visit. I would get to be a baby starting Friday night and ending Saturday afternoon; I would sleep in a crib, drink from a bottle or sippy cup, and only get my diaper changed when a grownup thought to check it.

I e-mailed the site’s “contact us” link and soon got a reply asking for a contact phone number. I gave them my cell phone number, and a few minutes later got a call from a woman who gave her name only as “Mommy.” She asked if I had ever done this before (no), whether I wanted to be both bowel and bladder incontinent (yes), whether I had a preference for a brand of diapers (no), and what age I would like to be (between 18 and 24 months). She also told me that there might be other babies there with me, which wasn’t a problem for me. I saw on their web site that they had at least two cribs, maybe three.

I figured if I was going to spend that much money and travel that far, I should go for the full weekend package, giving me two nights and almost two full days as a baby. I had some vacation time coming, so I arranged to take a Friday and Monday off, and made the booking. “Mommy” told me that I needed to remove all body hair (except from my head) before arrival. She said my name for the weekend would be Bobby; she also told me that I would remain an adult during the ride from the airport, but as soon as we got to their house I would be 20 months old for the rest of the weekend.

On that Friday morning I used a hair remover everywhere except my head, then I packed my footed sleeper, teddy bear, and pacifier into a suitcase and got on the road for the eight-hour drive. “Mommy” had told me the airport that was closest to them, so I looked it up on an airline web site and gave her a plausible flight number, but I drove to avoid airport security.

I arrived at the airport after a long, tiring drive, parked in the long-term lot, hid my parking ticket in the glove compartment, and walked to the terminal with my roller bag. On the way to the arrivals area I stopped at a water fountain and took two strong laxative pills.

“Daddy” was waiting at baggage claim, with a sign that said “Bobby.” He took me out to the car, where I got my first surprise. In the back seat of the car sat a little girl. She looked almost small enough to need a booster seat, but when I took a second look I figured she was about 9 years old. But something didn’t add up, and I did a double-take when I realized she was sucking on a pacifier and holding a sippy cup. “Daddy” put my bag in the trunk of the car, and I got in back next to the little girl. She was wearing a white T-shirt with a flower pattern, a pink jumper with a very short skirt, pink and white sneakers, and white anklets with pink lace trim. Sucking on her pink pacifier, she stared at me the way a small child does. Sitting next to her, I realized there was a smell of baby powder in the car, and then she put both feet up on her seat and I realized she was wearing a diaper under the jumper.

Soon we got on the road to the house. As we drove, “Mommy” explained to me that the little girl was actually in her late 20s; she just looked much younger because she was very small and dressed like a toddler. For the weekend she was to be my cousin Katie, who is almost two and a half. “Mommy” explained that because Katie had arrived earlier that afternoon, she had the option of riding with them to the airport, in character as a toddler, to pick me up. I would have the same option on Sunday, since Katie’s flight left three hours before the time I told them I had to leave.

While “Daddy” drove, “Mommy” talked to me like an adult, occasionally breaking off to address Katie the way you would talk to a 2-year-old. Katie dropped her sippy cup, and I picked it up and handed it to her; she smiled at me. “Mommy” said, “Katie, what do you say?,” and Katie took out her pacifier and said “'ank oo.”

A few minutes later, Katie said, “peepee” and pulled at her diaper, and I could smell pee in the car. “Mommy” explained to me that Katie knew when she wet herself, but she was too little to have any advance warning, and she had no control. All she could do was tell a grownup after she wet or soiled.

Friday night
During the ride from the airport, Mommy and Daddy talked about what we were going to do during the weekend, and they confirmed the age I wanted to be. “While we’re in the car,” Mommy said, “you’re still a grownup, which is why we’re asking you these questions now. Once we get into the house, you’ll be a little boy about 20 months old. You won’t be able to talk, except for single words, but you’ll understand almost everything we say. You won’t be allowed to do anything on your own except if we put you in the playroom with toys or in front of the TV.” When they got to the house, Daddy clicked the garage-door opener and we went inside the garage. As the door closed, I started to unfasten my seat belt, but Mommy said, “No, sweetie, remember that you’re not allowed to get out of the car by yourself.” She then opened the door, unfastened my seat belt, and led me by the hand into the house, while “Daddy” did the same with Katie. Mommy took me to the big room, took off all of my grownup clothes, then dressed me in a diaper, T-shirt, shorts, socks, and sneakers with Velcro. The diaper was a brand I had ever seen before, much bigger and thicker than most adult diapers, and it had an imprint across the front with pastel-colored blocks spelling out “BABY.” My shorts had no pockets or fly front. Katie got a dry diaper from Daddy; then Mommy led us by the hand to the kitchen, where she helped us climb into our high chairs and put bibs on us. She gave us cut-up carrots and pieces of cheese and crackers for a snack. She also gave us big sippy cups of milk.

Because a baby of my age would be clumsy, I picked up the food with my left hand. I also chewed with my mouth open, not paying any attention to crumbs that dropped out of my mouth and onto my bib. I ended up with pieces of carrot, bits of cheese, and cracker crumbs all over my bib and the high chair tray. As I was eating I felt a tingle from my bladder and immediately let go. I could also feel the laxative starting to work as my abdomen growled and rumbled, but nothing was happening yet.

“Dooce, Mommy!” I had drunk all my milk, and now I held out my sippy cup. She gave me a cup of juice, which I drank while she took off my high chair tray, cleaned me up, and helped me climb up on the changing table again. Mommy pulled down my shorts and unfastened my wet diaper and took it off of me. All the while I was drinking my juice, paying no attention to what she was doing.

While Mommy was changing my diaper, Katie came over, standing spread-legged, pulling up her jumper to show her diaper, and said, “Mommy, peepee!” Daddy came and changed Katie. Mommy finished getting me changed and dressed, and I stood and watched as Daddy changed Katie. I could see that she was as hairless as I was – she looked just like a little girl.

Mommy took Katie and me into the playroom and put a video on the TV. We sat and watched it for a while, Katie sucking on her pacifier. After a few minutes I got bored and went over to check out the toy trucks, intentionally waddling a little and walking pigeon-toed, like a toddler would. As I walked there was another rumble-growl from my abdomen, followed by a sharp pain as the laxative did its work and I made a b.m. in my diaper. I couldn’t take the laxative very often, but when I did it made me lose bowel control, so I saved it for special occasions – I thought this counted as special. I continued toward the trucks and started playing with them; Katie toddled over, still sucking her pacifier, then she took it out and said, “Mommy, Bobby poopie!” Mommy didn’t come right away, so Katie repeated it three or four times, then toddled into the kitchen, saying “Mommy, Bobby poopie! Bobby poopie!”

Eventually Mommy came and helped me climb onto the changing table again. She pulled my shorts down around my ankles, then took off my diaper and cleaned me with wipes before putting a clean diaper on me and pulling my shorts back up.

Then it was time for dinner. Katie and I sat in our high chairs again, and Mommy and Daddy brought us cut-up chicken, peas and carrots, and macaroni and cheese on plates with dividers, just like 2-year-olds eat from, except these were adult-size. I held my fork and spoon in my left hand, clumsily trying to get food to my mouth, and succeeded about as well as the average 2-year-old. I also drank two sippy cups of milk. As I was eating I felt another rumble and soiled my diaper.

Mommy came and gave me and Katie some cut-up fruit and Oreo cookies for dessert. Then she got us down out of our high chairs, wiped our hands and faces, sniffed the air, and changed my diaper again. With a dry diaper, I was allowed to go back into the play room; Katie was already there. We spent a few minutes playing with blocks, trucks, and dolls, then both Mommy and Daddy appeared and said, “Time for your baths, kids!” They took Katie and me into a bathroom with a really big bathtub – it looked like a deluxe Jacuzzi, but without the jets, and it was about three feet deep and the size of a small swimming pool. They had already started filling it, and it took a long time to fill. God knows where they got it or what it cost. Mommy took off all my clothes and all of Katie’s clothes, and she helped us both get into the tub. There was enough room for both of us to sit facing each other. Mommy brought washcloths, soap, and baby shampoo, and she proceeded to wash both of us, including our hair. Then she let us sit in the tub and play with rubber duckies and other toys for a few minutes. I was sitting in water halfway up my chest; Katie was almost up to her armpits. I felt a tingle in my bladder and let go immediately; Katie saw me peeing and said, “Mommy, Bobby make peepee!” So Mommy came and pulled the plug, letting the water drain out of the tub, then she helped us out and wrapped us both up in big towels. Katie was sitting on the bath mat while Mommy dried her, and when she stood up there was a yellow stain on the mat. Katie and I were both standing naked on the bath mat. Mommy stayed in the bathroom with us, and Daddy went out and came back carrying pajamas and overnight diapers for each of us. Katie was so small I swear she was wearing the largest size Pampers; Mommy put baby powder on her first, followed by the diaper and a pair of pink footed PJs with snaps holding the bottoms and tops together. While Mommy dressed Katie for bed, Daddy put baby powder on me, followed by another big diaper with “BABY” printed on the front, only this time it had a booster insert. Then he put my footed blanket sleeper on me. Daddy and Mommy led me and Katie by the hand from the play room to the cribs. I saw my teddy bear and pacifier in one crib, and Katie’s were in the other.

I climbed into the crib and Mommy put the side rail up. Then she went away for a few seconds and came back with a bottle of warm milk. I took it and laid down on my back, holding my teddy bear and drinking from the bottle. The crib was “adult size,” but not really quite as tall relative to me as a baby’s crib would be relative to the baby. But it was big enough – it looked like at least a queen-size mattress. I figured they just built a crib rail frame and put it on a regular bed.

I dozed off and woke up in a dark room, with a full bladder; I immediately relaxed and felt the warm wetness trickling over my skin and down my groin to my bottom, making the diaper warm and heavy. I sucked on the bottle, but it was empty, so I groped around, found my pacifier, stuck it in my mouth, and went back to sleep.

Some time later I became aware again that my bladder was full. This time I was lying on my stomach, and I wet the front of my diaper, then there was also a rumble-pain in my abdomen, and I made another b.m. and went back to sleep, but it seemed like a minute later I heard Katie crying for Mommy. Mommy came into the room and found that Katie’s diaper had leaked, wetting her sheet, blanket, and PJs. So Mommy changed Katie into a dry diaper and found another pair of PJs for her. These were shortie PJs that didn’t quite cover her diaper – it peeked out around the leg openings. But there were no more crib sheets or blankets. Mommy came over to my crib and said, “Bobby, I’m going to put Katie in your crib with you because she wet her bed and there are no more clean sheets, OK? You need to move over and let her sleep here too.” I said, “Katie? My kib?,” and Mommy said, “Yes, sweetie, now move over a little,” and she had Katie climb into my crib. Then she sniffed again, realized I had made a b.m., and changed me as well. By the time she put me back in the crib, Katie was sound asleep. I held out my empty bottle, and Mommy brought me another bottle of warm milk. I fell asleep drinking it.

Saturday morning
The next time I opened my eyes, the room was filled with the dim light of early morning. Almost immediately I felt very full bladder, so I let go and flooded my diaper. I lay there for a few minutes, stretching and relaxing, enjoying the feeling of the wet diaper and dry PJs, then I rolled over and sat up in my crib, almost bumping into Katie. She was still fast asleep, sprawled out on her stomach with her blanket bunched under her. A little of her diaper peeked out from under her shortie PJs – enough for me that she was very wet as well. I reached for my teddy bear and blanket, and sat hugging them. After a few minutes Mommy came into the room, and I stood up by the crib rail. Katie slept on.

Mommy helped me climb out of the crib and up onto the changing table. She took off my PJs and wet diaper, wiped me off with baby wipes, and put on a dry diaper and dressed me in shorts and a T-shirt again. Then she took me downstairs for breakfast in my high chair: cereal, milk, and fruit.

While I was eating my breakfast, Daddy brought Katie into the room. She was wearing just a diaper and a T-shirt, and she was crying because she couldn’t find her pacifier. Daddy put her in her high chair and gave her breakfast. I felt another tingle in my bladder and immediately let go, feeling the warmth spread through my diaper. After I was done eating, Mommy changed my wet diaper, then took me to the playroom, where I sat on the floor and played with blocks and trucks. While I was playing I felt another rumble-grumble and soiled my diaper sitting on the floor. Mommy didn’t notice right away – it was almost a half-hour before she checked me, so I sat on the floor in my dirty diaper, wetting once more. A few minutes later Katie stood up and said, “Katie poopie” as she squatted and tugged at the back of her diaper, so Mommy had to change both of us.

Then Mommy put Katie and me in front of the TV to watch cartoons until lunchtime. When it was time for lunch she checked both of our diapers, which were still dry, then put us in our high chairs.

After lunch was more playtime, with two more diaper changes before naptime. Katie’s pacifier was still missing, and Mommy and Daddy both looked for it but couldn’t find it. Katie and I both woke up wet from our naps, just in time for dinner. I wet while I was eating, and Mommy didn’t check until she was getting me ready for my bath, so my diaper was very wet.

Saturday night
We both got baths again in the same huge tub. This time neither of us peed in the tub or on the bath mat. But right after Mommy got Katie dressed in her diaper and PJs, Katie pulled at the back of her PJs and said, “Katie peepee,” so Mommy had to change her into another overnight diaper. I stayed dry while I played before going to bed. Then Mommy helped me climb into my crib and gave me my bottle. As I lay on my back, holding my teddy bear and blanket, I felt a tingle again and let go, I also felt a rumble in my abdomen, but it was only gas. Mommy came to check on me and smelled the gas, so she checked my diaper and changed me. Katie was back in her own crib, sitting and playing with her dolls. She was still without her pacifier, but Mommy found an extra one and Katie was happily sucking on it. It seemed I got drowsy faster tonight than the night before. As if from a great distance I heard, “Katie peepee” and the sounds of Mommy changing her diaper; then I heard nothing.

Sunday morning
Once again the dim light of early morning woke me; I was surprised to find that my diaper was wet, since I had no memory of waking up and wetting it.

I was even more surprised when I sat up and looked around. I found myself wetting again with no warning and no control, and I noticed that the crib rails seemed much higher than when I went to sleep Saturday night. I reached for my pacifier and noticed with a shock that there was no hair on the back of my hand; in fact, my hand was completely smooth and chubby, like a baby’s. Even worse, the scar on my right hand from where I broke a glass when I was in college was gone without a trace. Beginning to panic, I felt my face – no beard stubble, just baby-smooth skin. I realized that I was drooling down the front of my PJs. I looked across the room, and there was Katie sleeping in her crib, lying on her back. She looked much younger and smaller, and her face was much rounder. I could have sworn that when I first saw her she had pierced ears, but now she didn’t. And her hair was different. I called out to her, “Katie! Wake up!,” but all I heard was a baby’s cry. But it woke Katie up, and she rolled over, sat up rubbing her eyes, and looked at me in confusion, then burst into tears. In desperation, I called out for Mommy.

After a few minutes, Mommy came into the room. I noticed that she was now much bigger than I was, and the furniture all looked like normal-size baby furniture. She effortlessly lifted me out of my crib and put me on the changing table, stripping off my wet diaper and my PJs and dressing me once again in a clean diaper, shorts, and a T-shirt. I tried to ask what happened, when I can go home, but she just laughed at how cute I was – she didn’t understand anything I said.

Katie was still crying, so Mommy picked her up and held her, cooing reassuringly. After a while Katie’s cries settled down to an occasional hiccup, and Mommy changed her diaper and dressed her for the day. Then she changed and dressed me and carried us downstairs for breakfast. But the house I was in last night had no “downstairs.” Even worse, Mommy was able to carry both me and Katie without apparent effort, one in each arm.

Somehow I managed to eat, in spite of being confused and terrified. Katie ate a little, but mostly she just cried. Mommy started getting us ready to go outside – she took us out of our high chairs, cleaned off our hands and faces, and cleaned up the mess on the floor and the high chair trays. Then she got out a twin stroller. As she lifted me into the stroller, I made a really big b.m. with absolutely no warning. Mommy changed me again, then picked me up and put me in the stroller, at which point Katie stopped crying long enough to soak her diaper and outfit and say “Katie peepee” again as she looked down at the little puddle she had made, so Mommy had to change her diaper and put a whole new outfit on her. While she was doing all that, I sat in the stroller wondering what the hell was happening. I tried to get out of the stroller, but I couldn’t unfasten the straps. Once again with no warning at all, I started peeing into my diaper, and nothing I could do would stop the hot stream.

When Mommy came back from changing Katie, I tried again to ask what had happened, but she just laughed and talked baby talk back to me.

Mommy pushed me and Katie in the twin stroller, and we went outside. The air was warm and the sun shone brightly. I kept trying to talk to Mommy, but I couldn’t make her understand me. Katie just sat there quietly, staring straight ahead. Once she said, “Mommy, Katie peepee,” but that was all. I began to get drowsy in the warm sunshine, and after a while I drifted off, feeling a warm stream in my diaper just as sleep took me.

I woke up with a start – no idea how much time had passed. I was in bed, not in the stroller, but not in the crib either. Looking around, I realized I was naked, in my own bed in my apartment. It was dark outside, and the clock said 3:17. I felt something strange as I rolled over, and found a big wet spot on the sheet. I turned on the light and found that I had all my body hair back, as well as the scar on my right hand.

Finally, balled up in the corner of my bed I found my blanket sleeper, a wet diaper, my teddy bear and pacifier – and Katie’s pink pacifier.