My name is Lily Paddington and I’m a dream catcher. I look for the rainbow after a thunderstorm, seeing the flowers grow from the rain as a reassurance that everything happens for a reason. At this point in my life, it is very important I remember this.
I used to work for a newspaper here in Lancaster, PA, but now I can’t. I’ve been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Disease. The treatments I have endured and the medicine I take leaves me weak. Every step of the way, there has been a very special someone who has helped me through this difficult time. He is my fiancée and my “Daddy”, and he takes care of me.
He tells me it’s not healthy to keep my emotions inside, and says that venting is good or maybe writing down how I feel, good or bad. So I decided to start keeping a diary. But I’m not going to write about my illness. Instead, I am going to write about the things in my life that are going well.
I am so lucky to be surrounded with such love and support that keeps me smiling when I probably would have cried and makes me happy when I’m feeling depressed.
These are my words and my thoughts.
Entry 1 -
Hello again! It’s me, Lily. I don’t know where to begin.
Hmm. Well, let’s see. Three months have passed since Zeke and I got back from the Bahamas. I don’t remember when we actually got back because I was unconscious and in a coma. I had been feeling sick for a couple of days on vacation and then I collapsed one night as we walked on the beach. The next thing I remember I woke up in a hospital back here in Lancaster, PA. I spent a few days there and was released into Zeke’s care.
Since then, I have been in and out of that hospital too many times. Zeke spent every moment that he could with me at the hospital, even sleeping in an uncomfortable chair next to my bed, night after night. Every time I was released, he brought me back to his apartment. Not too long ago, he asked me to move in. So I guess it’s our apartment now. This most recent return home from the hospital had an added surprise waiting for me. I walked into our apartment to find that he had moved all of my stuff in. Bye bye Lime Street Apartment!
I decorate the place when I find the strength. Zeke has been very good about allowing me to set things up as I want without complaining. I think his mother did a very good job of raising him. (Shh! Don’t tell him I said that!) But I gave him some input privileges, like in my nursery.
OMG! I’m sorry! I totally forgot to tell you about our little secret! Zeke is my “Daddy” and I am his BabyGirl. He takes care of me as if I were a baby. He dresses me in all sorts of babyish clothing. Sometimes it’s just a little baby-t. Sometimes it’s a nightie, or maybe a onesie, but I dress in big girl clothes when we leave the apartment.
He almost always speaks to me like I’m a baby and he makes me feel so “little” with his words. His voice is always soft and his tone is always calm. He never gets angry. He never yells and he always treats me well. Very well.
He took the guest room and transformed it into a nursery for me. Ohhh. Let me tell you about this nursery.
It is heavily decorated in pink, which I have no problem with. There is a toy chest in one corner of the room with every toy I used to play with as a little girl. From My Little Pony to Rainbow Brite to Cabbage Patch Dolls to Care Bears to every girl’s favorite, Barbie, She-ra, Princess of Power action figure. He went out and bought them all for me!
I wish I could’ve gone along on that trip just so I could see him standing in line holding a bunch of little girl’s toys in his hands. :0
On all the walls are butterfly stickers in bright colors. They always make me think of the first day I met him. The topic of butterflies kept coming up in our discussions. I was really nervous about meeting him for the first time, and I told him I had “butterflies” I had in my tummy. I also love clothing with butterflies on them.
There’s even a crib! It’s white and loaded with teddy bears and the pink crib sheets have Disney Princess prints on them! Every day after lunch, he makes me take a nap in that crib. Sleeping in a crib is one of the most relaxing things I have ever done. It’s so comfortable and everything is so soft, I love it. And when he puts me in it and tells me it’s nap time, I feel like a little baby.
I don’t know where to begin to tell you how much I crave feeling like a baby. It’s near the heart of our relationship to one another, right next to an honest, unyielding love I have for him. I am able to look at him with two sets of eyes. One set belongs to a girl who has fallen head over heels for a boy. The other set belongs to a little girl who sees him as the Daddy she should’ve had since her birth.
The changing table in my nursery is right next to the crib. I find myself lying on that table quite often, looking up at him with the eyes of a little girl, dependent on him for life.
Next to the changing table is a closet with the cutest outfits that give me the “baby” feeling when I wear them. I still have my big girl clothing … somewhere, I think. But I only ever wear them some times when we go out.
There is a book shelf in the corner that Zeke built himself. It has every possible book on it I could want, from my cheesy adult romance novels to Dr. Seuss to Sesame Street. Oh! Not to be forgotten are my endless collection of coloring books and a really big basket of crayons. I will sit on the Disney rug in the middle of the room and color or I’ll color on the living room rug, but I’ve learned to put the crayons and coloring books away. It drives Zeke crazy when I leave them laying all over the place.
The ceiling lights up with glow-in-the-dark stars, aligned as they appeared in the summer sky. Astronomy is a hobby of mine. Well not really a hobby. I just like to look up at the stars and make picture out of them. But Zeke will close the curtains and turn off the lights when it’s nap time. The ceiling stars light up and with the glow of a nightlight in the wall, I lay there and make pictures out of them.
A painting on the wall of a baby girl, lying on a Lily leaf, surrounded by a beautiful forest is what I turn my attention to next before I fall asleep.
I remember when he first showed me that nursery. I was so touched by it all I could do was cry. The first night I slept in this apartment I remember thinking to myself and wondering when he was going to ask her to marry him so I could live like this every day.
Well, he didn’t ask me to marry him on that night. And he didn’t ask me to marry him when we were in the Bahamas. He waited until he brought me home from the hospital. I felt horrible at that moment, not because he proposed to me, but because Zeke and my father met one another in the hospital and had a fight. I was also feeling weak, and I was worried about what the future might hold with treating my disease. Needless to say, I wasn’t having happy thoughts on that day until he asked me to marry him.
The Daddy and BabyGirl thing has been a journey for me. I know I’m submissive, but I have always wanted the kindest, gentlest Daddy to be in control of me, and you really don’t find a lot of guys like that. They may say it, but they really don’t mean it or they really don’t know what “Kind” and “Gentle” means. Even fewer would take the time to find out exactly what I’m looking for.
Zeke isn’t perfect, but he has perfect intentions with me, and I can see those intentions in his heart, within his actions and in the sound of his words. It hasn’t been hard to listen to him. (I might even go so far as to say that it hasn’t been hard to “obey” him, but when I say that it sounds ugly.) He isn’t power hungry. He simply has a dominant nature to him, and he makes me feel very “little” because he is in charge. It’s never harsh, but it still affects me in a way I’ve never felt before.
That is what I love the most.
He also makes me wear a diaper all the time which makes me feel even more “little”. Well I guess I shouldn’t say that he “makes” me wear it because I want to wear diapers just as much as he wants me to. And I guess I shouldn’t say that a diaper “makes” me feel “little”. I don’t really need diapers to feel like his BabyGirl, but it does add to a role which is becoming my natural personality, more and more, every day.
There are moments that Zeke calls “bonding moments”. Some have to do with how he takes care of me, like how he bathes me, by hand, every day in the bath tub. Or how he compassionately deals with my depression. Or how he spoon feeds me a meal when I’m feeling too weak to do it myself. Or how he holds me when I’m feeling sad. Or how he listens to me when I just need to talk about how I’m feeling (and this one takes a lot out of him. Let’s face it: he’s a typical guy who can only talk about emotions for so long and I’m a typical girl who can talk about matters of the heart for hours without growing weary of the topic.)
But a lot of the “bonding moments” center around my diaper. (Giggles) As silly as that sounds, it’s true. When I feel his hand on my bottom as he checks my diaper, I begin to feel little.
When I am lying on the changing table in my nursery or on the living room rug or on the couch or wherever he decides, and he changes my diaper, you better believe there is some bonding going on. I “need” him, at that moment, to make me feel secure, to make me feel safe and to tell me he will take care of me. I guess he could tell me that any time and comfort me any time, and he certainly does, but when I am lying in front of him – naked, vulnerable and helpless, I am in dire need of attention to my heart and my mind. He gives me that attention and I grow more and more attached to him because of it. What “bonds” are our hearts.
Having the toys and the clothing and the nursery help me to feel like his BabyGirl, but wearing that diaper reminds me that I am his responsibility and I then know that I am the most important thing to him in the whole world.
Even more important than his Kansas City Chiefs making it to the World Series, but uhh … football. That’s a complete entry in itself. I’ll save it for another time.
Zeke just told me he is preparing my bath water and that I have to finish up what I’m writing. So let me end this entry by saying this, then it’s off to a bath and then bed for me:
I never forget to tell him I love him and I never forget to say thank you. But more importantly to me, I never forget to mean it when I say those things. It’s so easy to become selfish, especially when he caters to me all the time. I could take him for granted and lose him. I might not even realize that I’m taking him for granted. But just like everyone else, Zeke only has one heart and its big, but when his heart becomes broken or when I believe I will always get what I want, that’s the moment this fairy tale might end for good.
I don’t ever want to find out if that’s the case. I love him too much to risk losing him to my thoughtlessness. So I’ll never take him for granted.