Elizabeth
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Joined: 30 Dec 2007
Posts: 172
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 Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 11:25 am Post subject: 1: Motivation |
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It was a week ago that it started. It seems like longer, and definitely feels longer as well, but when I think about it, I know that's all the longer it's been.
You were just about to go on that weekend business trip; you said I'd be bored, so I could stay at home, if I was a good little girl for you. You even bought me ice cream, as a way of making up for missing out on Halloween with me, since you left early in the morning that day. And I -was- a good little girl. If I had just kept my mouth closed, then everything would have been fine.
But no, I couldn't do that, even though it was supposed to be a surprise. You know I can't keep stuff like that secret for long - it's difficult enough to stop from showing you your birthday present the day I buy it. Remember when I made us go to bed on nine o'clock on Christmas eve, because I said I didn't want Santa to pass us by? Well, not only did he -not-, luckily, but that also kept me from accidentally telling you about all the cool stuff I had found for you.
"I'm writing a Halloween story," I told you as you were standing by the kitchen table, being blocked on your path to the bedroom to grab your suitcase by me, still in my nightgown, standing on my tiptoes for no real reason, since I wasn't trying to get your attention anymore, seeing as how I already had it. "I'm gonna have it all done by the time you get back!"
"Oh, really?" you asked, bending over to kiss the tip of my nose, smiling as you see my nose wrinkle in a little as I giggle. "Well, I can't wait to read it, then." I grin, all my plans and schemes for my newest story running through my mind as I tried to organize them all, until you reached over to pull up the hem of my nightgown to check the state of my Pull-Up. I started to protest that you had just changed me out of my night diaper, which I insisted, as always, that I didn't need - even if it was a little wet - because I'm not a baby. And because of that, I certainly wouldn't need a fresh Pull-Up already. You don't give me the chance to, though, pulling my nightgown up further once you see that the bows are still intact and tickling my tummy.
"Hey!" I started to protest before I felt myself being overcome with laughter. There were a few moments of relief as I felt myself being picked up and carried into the bedroom, and then once I had been plunked back down onto the bed, you went back to the tickling full force. I'm not sure how long you kept it up; long enough, anyway. "No fair," I pouted once you went back to putting the last few things into your suitcase, leaving me on the bed to get through my last few giggles.
"Do I need to check you again?" you teased, no more than half-way joking, if that much. I stuck out my tongue as I tried to ignore the warmth that had just spread across my bottom, regretting that second cup of apple juice at breakfast. I got up onto my knees, making sure my nightgown reached the top of the bed, and bent over to look at your suitcase curiously.
"Hmm... I don't think I can fit you in there, too."
"I don't wanna go to your stupid thing anyway, 'cause I have things to do," I informed you with crossed arms and a nod. "An' I bet I'll have more fun here than some hotel."
"You'd better not have too much fun," you warned. "Unless you -want- a spanking."
I shook my head. "Nuh-uh... I'm a good girl."
"I bet you're a wet girl if anything." And your quick hands were enough to prove you right, despite my (slightly late) attempt at stopping you. "That's what I thought."
"Hmph," I blushed. "It's your fault."
You picked my up into your lap with a hug and a kiss on the forehead once I was there. "I know. I just wanted to change you one more time before I left." I hmphed again, a little less emphatically. "Are you sure you're going to be all right on your own, sweetie?"
"Yeah..." I couldn't help but sniffle a little, even though I did my best not to.
You gave me another hug, and put me into a dry Pull-Up, and got me dressed. There was another warning about being a good girl, and then you were off, leaving me to my own devices. The first thing I did certainly wasn't getting a bowl of ice cream. Definitely not. I had to go change into my jeans and a T-shirt instead of one my of pretty dresses first, so that I didn't have to worry about dripping stuff onto myself quite so much. I actually started to work on my story afterwards, and I got off to a good start.
I ran into a bit of writer's block eventually, as usual. It was about lunchtime then, so I wandered off into the kitchen to search through the containers of food you had left me, deciding that I just wanted a peanut butter sandwich after a few minutes of indecision, sure that you would never know that I was pretending to have forgotten your decree about making sure to eat some kind of fruit or vegetable with my meals. Or, more specifically, the part about the peanuts in peanut butter not counting as that fruit/vegetable.
I took it into the living room and turned on the TV, not caring much about what was on, just liking the sound that it made. It was too quiet. I considered turning the TV up some more, then decided that I would rather it be quiet a little longer because I was feeling sleepy still. By the time I had finished half my sandwich, I was lying down, something else I was pretending that I didn't know you don't like me doing while eating. I must have set my plate on the floor sometime soon after that, since it was there once I woke up.
It was starting to get dark outside already; I hadn't realized I was that tired. I retrieved the second half of my lunch and retreated to the computer, sure that I would have time to finish the story now. But once I was in front of the computer, I couldn't get myself to start typing. So I started reading through all the stories you had written for me instead. The quiet started to bother me again... By the time I was ready to do something about it, I saw that the house had gotten all dark and shadowy already.
I forced myself to get out of the computer chair and go over to the door to the hallway, heart thumping loudly as I approached. I wished the light switch for the hall wasn't at one end of the hall, seemingly miles away now. "Ohhh..." I moan, trying to remind, and convince, myself that I'm not really four anymore. It didn't do a lot for my courage, yet it did make me realize that I was going to have to leave the room sometime before morning if I didn't want to leak all over the place - I don't think you would have liked that much - and it wasn't gonna get any brighter before then.
I edged my foot up to the door, pushing my toes out into the darkness first. When they were still intact a second later, I forced the rest of my body to jump out and rush towards the light switch, hand outstretched and groping blindly. My fingers had just brushed against the edge of the plastic plate around the switch when the doorbell rang, jolting my heart straight up my throat and quite possibly out of my mouth, which also chose to emit a small shriek. I was about to bolt back to the computer room when my frenzied brain re-informed me of the fact that it was Halloween, and those were likely trick-or-treaters at the door.
By the time I had dragged a chair over to the pantry to retrieve the bowl of candy from the top shelf, where you put it to keep it from tempting me too much, there was nobody at the door. I couldn't help but feel relieved; for some reason, I always feel nervous when I answer the door on Halloween. Knowing you wouldn't mind me having just one piece, especially after the scare I'd just gotten, I sneak out a mini-chocolate bar from the dish, and proceed to walk through the house, flipping on every light just in case I wanted to go there later in the night. I had another fright as I went into the bedroom and the cat jumped out at me, a bit annoyed that I hadn't given her any attention yet that day - luckily, I had been just about to put on a fresh Pull-Up.
I didn't notice the little wet spot on my jeans until I was pulling them back up. It wasn't too bad... Maybe nobody would have noticed. But there was no way I was going to answer the door in them now that I knew it was there, so I started to search through my dresser, trying to decide on my Halloween-night apparel. It was starting to get a bit chilly, and my nap had left me feeling pretty sleepy, so I settled on my pink footed sleeper. It was comfy enough that I didn't mind how babyish it looked, and I could just say that it was my costume. Two birds, one stone.
Not wanting to stay too far away from the door, so that nobody else got cheated out of candy because I was too far away to get there in time, I went to the living room and switched on the TV instead of returning to the computer. There was some old black and white movie on, already halfway finished, good enough to keep the house from sounding too silent. By the time the bad guy had gotten himself killed and the credits were rolling, my stomach was growling, trying to tell me that I needed to have more than peanut butter and ice cream to eat for lunch and dinner.
The candy dish somehow levitated over to the couch - I can't explain how, but after something like that, how could I -not- have another couple pieces? Or... Well, maybe a few more than that. I mean, it's not like we needed all that... There were only four groups of trick-or-treaters that showed up, three of which contained rather frazzled looking mothers who called me cute, adorable, or precious. There was plenty of candy left afterwards! Why let it all go to waste?
My stomach wished I had for the rest of the night. And for the next morning. I don't write particularly well when I'm not feeling good; all I do well then is curl up and go to sleep, or just lay there, which is what I did. The only thing that got me up, eventually, was a recollection of the homework I still had to do for Monday. You know... The homework that I told you I had mostly finished. Except I didn't have most of it finished. Or any of it, for that matter. I -had- considered doing all of it then, though, and that's pretty close to actually doing it... Right?
You came back that afternoon, just as I was finishing up the last of that stupid stuff. Earlier than I expected, so that I didn't have the chance to change into one of my dresses for you, like I was planning. You didn't seem to care much, though, catching me as I jumped into your arms and taking me back to the bedroom to tell me about the trip while you unpacked. You were almost done when you asked it.
"So, do you have your story done yet?"
I stared down at the blanket on the bed, suddenly intrigued by the design on it. "Umm... Not really..."
"How come?" you asked, sitting down beside me. All I can do is shrug. "Well, I'm sure you'll get it done soon enough."
Not so much. Not at all, for that matter. I spent the rest of the day with you, just relaxing, and explaining why the closet light was on. Monday, after classes, I trundled back to the computer room, fully expected to whip out a page or two.
I typed a paragraph before giving up for the day.
"You finished with the story yet?" you asked at dinner, while I did my best to pretend that I was eating my broccoli.
"Not really."
"Not really?" you raised your eyebrow. "How can you be 'not really' done?"
"I'm not," I pouted.
"Do you want some help, sweetheart? I can see what I can do if you want."
I shook my head. "Nope, I can do it!"
Tuesday you waited a little longer before asking. You were about halfway through giving me my bath, and not even a splash of water was enough to distract you from getting the answer. It was still the same, of course.
"Are you sure you don't need some help? I'd be happy to..."
I shook my head, sending water flying. "I know what I'm gonna write already... See, there's this ghost, and this girl, and... umm... There's diapers, and some... other stuff..."
"Well, you just have it all planned out, don't you?"
I stuck my tongue out. "I do! I just don't wanna give it all away."
"Ohhh, okay."
"I'm jus' having problems getting motivated to write it. That's all."
I should have noticed the glint in your eyes then, but of course I missed it.
On Wednesday, you barely even gave me time to get in the door.
"You still having problems getting motivated to write?"
"Umm... I guess..."
"Will you at least let me help you with that?"
Part of my brain told me to say no, but the rest of it wouldn't let me. 'What if it's candy or something else yummy?' part asked, followed by another wondering if he had written another story for me. "Okay!" I smiled, sure of the result being one of those two, or maybe... Maybe even both!
So you took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. Not quite what I was expecting, but that was all right. I didn't notice the changing pad until I was lifted up and set down on it, your hand gently pushing me backwards until I was lying down. Your hands found the button of my jeans, undoing it and sliding down the zipper.
"Daddy?" I'm not sure whether to be excited about this "motivation" or not now. I had started to suspect what it might be, and a quick glimpse around the room confirmed it when I saw one of my diapers sitting beside me on the bed.
You slipped my jeans down my legs while I was doing that, bringing me back to reality as you tickled my feet. My legs tried to curl up under my body in response. "I think some little girl isn't quite ready for those Pull-Ups she's wearing."
"Yes I am!" I protested, pouting. You're always trying to think of some way to get me to wear diapers more often... This time I had asked you to, and even if it had been inadvertently, I don't think you're going to let me take it back now. "I'm a big girl!"
"Of course you are," you told me condescendingly. "But sometimes even big girls need to wear diapers... Especially when they're writing about other girls who wear diapers." Your hand goes back up towards my tummy, though not to tickle this time. "How can you know what to write if you're such a big girl that you only wear diapers when you're in bed?"
And so I didn't just wear them to bed anymore. I wore them all the time. At school, it was just one, luckily, but once I got home on Thursday, you had decided that however many days it was from then was the number of diapers I had to wear. I'm not sure you thought that through all the way - only so many will fit on me at once - but that was the decree of the day. I assume there's some kind of upper limit to this rule; asking about it seems like a slightly foolish idea. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't get the story done that night.
Friday, you declared that I was to wear nothing over my diapers while I was at home. Not that it would have mattered for long... I have quite a few articles of clothing that would fit the double diaper I had on then, but I had never tried them with a triple, or anything above that. Hopefully it won't get much beyond that.... If I could just get this stupid thing written!
And then there's today.
"You awake back there?" you ask, quickly glancing in the mirror to check. If I didn't have my eyes open, I would say no - seems a little silly now.
"I guess," I pout, crossing my arms and glaring at the back of your head, shifting on the seat of the car, the thick material between my legs making me sit oddly, though not nearly as much as my attempt to keep the short skirt on my pink sailor uniform from showing the matching pink plastic panties around the diapers off to the world.
'We're going on a little trip', you said. 'You look to cute in this for you not to wear it.' 'Do you want me to bring some baby food along to feed you while we're there?'
The drive has been long enough that I know it isn't anywhere near where we actually live. I guess I should have known that you wouldn't do -that- to me; I am starting to get a little worried, though. It's also been long enough that I'm glad that I haven't yet graduated to real big girl panties, even in the best of times.
"This is taking forever," I whine, not the most patient person in the world. "I'm bored!"
"I guess it's a good thing we're here, then," you smile, turning the car into a big parking lot. I look out the windows to try o figure out where we ended up, the big sign for the zoo not obvious enough for me until we drive past it.
"Yay!" I giggle and clap my hands, forgetting about my outfit for a second. We haven't been to the zoo in forever!
I can see your smile in the corner of the rear-view mirror. "So it was worth being bored?"
"Uh-huh!" I nod cheerfully, hardly able to sit still long enough for you to unbuckle my seatbelt. I bend forward to hug you, feeling your strong arms move around me, almost wanting to just stay like that for the rest of the day. Then I remember the snow leopard.
You make me hold your hand as we walk across the parking lot. It wouldn't be so bad if you would just walk more quickly, but as it is, I'm practically bouncing up and down trying to pull you forward, rather unsuccessfully. I notice a pair of teenage guys staring at me, my brain suddenly decides to remind me that we're not the only people in the parking lot. I calm down a bit, walking closer to you as I blush and try to not flash my diapers to anyone else walking by, trying to make my gait look less like a waddle. Not sure how successful I am with either. By the time we finally get to the ticket place, I'm tired enough that I'm glad I didn't walk any faster than I did.
The ticket seller smiles at me; I blush and look away. She has the look of wanting to tell me how cute I look about her. I always feel kind of awkward saying thanks for that... I feel like I should be saying that they are, too. She tells you how cute I am instead, and you tell her that yes, I sure am. I'm still blushing as we walk through the gates into the actual zoo. The lions are the first thing we see, as always, and they're enough to cure me of my embarrassment, and the tiredness of my legs.
You let go of my hand for a second, maybe on accident, maybe because you know what I'll do. And of course I run up to the little fence, sneakers tapping against the pavement, pigtails flying behind me. Not just my pigtails, of course - my skirt does, too. I don't know how much, but you're the only person I remember seeing behind me a second ago, and there's nothing under there you haven't seen before.
The lion is sleeping on its rock; I think I've seen it moving once out of all the times I've been at the zoo. I guess it makes sense, since it's pretty old. It just isn't very exciting, even if he does make up for it with being pretty. He's fun to look at... Just not for too long. The next stop is my buddy, the snow leopard. I wish I would have known this is where you were bringing me... Then I could have brought my camera. I always bring it when we come here, because the leopard always comes to the front of him little place when I visit him, and lets me take his picture.
"Here you go," you say, unzipping the diaper bag and pulling out my camera. "You didn't think I'd forget this, did you?"
I giggle as I take it from you and turn around to get my picture, consumed for a time with flipping switches and pressing buttons. A long enough time that you're able to flip up the back of my skirt and slip your fingers into the waistband at the rear of my diaper, pulling it back some, the form of diaper checking that I hate the most, as you're quite aware.
"Daddy!" I complain loudly, stomping my foot and probably drawing more attention than you did.
"Yes?" you ask innocently, pretending not to know what I'm upset about. I glare at you for a couple seconds before cautiously stepping back towards my leopard a little ways, getting some distance between you and me, and turning around again. "I don't think you need a change yet, do you?"
"Daddy!!!" I stomp my foot again, smoke about ready to start coming from my ears.
"Yes, young lady?" I can hear something in your tone of voice that I haven't heard for awhile. It's enough to keep me from saying anymore, but even it can't stop me from glaring and hmphing at you. "I don't think you want to throw a tantrum here, do you?" I pout, knowing you're right. That wouldn't help my situation at all, especially once I was finished and you put me over your knee.
"No," I answer, since you appear to be waiting for one. That looks like it's good enough for you, so I turn around again. This time you let me take my picture without interruptions, at last, and I give the camera to you to put back into the diaper bag, and take your hand. I worry for a second that you'll let go of me, or squeeze too tightly, because you're mad at me, but you're just as gentle as ever, as if nothing had happened.
I like all the other animals, too, of course, but now that I've seen the leopard, there's no way I can choose between them all to figure out who to visit next. You always know where to go. And wherever that is, that's where you're taking us, my waddle slowing us a little. I turn down your offer of renting a stroller, not wanting to make it blatantly obvious to the entire world how babyish I am.
The reptile house is a place I'd ignore completely, if it wasn't for the Komodo dragons, although the fact that one of the only bathrooms on this side of the zoo is in the building too kind of raises its appeal some. I'm firmly convinced that they're the only important kind of reptile there is, yet the zoo somehow doesn't believe me, so they put a ton of snakes and... other creepy crawlies... in between me and them. I don't actually remember what all they have; it's been a long time since I've done more in the first half of the building than stick to the middle of the room and avoid looking into any of the cases as much as possible.
The worst part is the jungle part. Crocodiles, or alligators, or whatever these ones were, might be interesting, if they weren't in a room where the only thing between me and them is a see-through walkway. Sure, it's a high enough walkway that there's no way they could get up this high, but what if I fell? I remember when I came here for my fifth grade field trip, and a particularly mean classmate of mine threatened to throw me over the rail so the crocogators could eat me. She got in trouble when the teacher overheard her, but I had nightmares about that for the next week, and I've never been able to walk through the room without being frightened since.
"You okay?" you ask, about halfway through. I nod, even though I'm pressed as tightly against your side as I can, fighting to keep my eyes from searching the ground below for animals, knowing that the coolness of seeing one would be outweighed by my imagination going crazy when I did. My hand is starting to feel all sweaty - it's too hot in here. Why can't croc/gators live in someplace cooler?
The door to the next part of the building is finally just a few steps away, bringing with it the promise of sweet release, in more ways than one - the bathroom's right through the doors. To the left. Komodo dragon to the right. I definitely wouldn't mind visiting them both about now.
The cooler air from beyond the door blows against my face, and I sigh in relief, just standing still and enjoying the feeling. You've been through this before; you wait patiently for me to open my eyes again. You start to lead us to the right, but I stop at the intersection.
"What's wrong?" you ask. You probably know full well what it is, you just can't let me get by without saying it.
I'm just barely getting used to saying it at home, so the first time I say it now I barely get halfway through before humiliation stops me. You still pretend not to know, though, so I press on, eventually whispering, "I hafta go to the bathroom," by then needing it even more so.
Instead of taking me into the family bathroom like you should, you just stand there, smiling at me as I squirm. "Oh... didn't I tell you the new rule for today?"
You have some weird, though quite effective, ideas about motivation; I'm not sure I want to know what you have planned for tomorrow. If only I could finish the stupid story...
If only I had finished the story last night...
The waistband snaps back against my skin. Satisfied, you take my hand and start to lead me down the right path, though I know that we'll soon be on our way down the left again soon enough.
Damn writer's block.
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