A SWEDE IN AMERICA PART 1 (true Story)
My name is Eric and I grew up in central Stockholm, the capital of Sweden. My childhood was rather normal except for the fact that my parents divorced when I was only two years old, thereby I never even had the slightest idea of what it was like to live in one continuous place.
Growing up I was well-behaved and mature except for the fact that I had no real control of my bladder. I was in daytime diapers even the last summer before my first year of school. In Sweden it's rare that children wear diapers during the day past the age of two, which meant I sometimes got teased for my problem.
I remember that the worst part wasn't actually my friends but rather their parents. They looked upon me as if I was a failure, a child too weak to mature. As my parents didn't really talk about it with each other no real solution to my wetting problem surfaced. This meant I just continued to wear diapers full-time until I was seven years old.
I remember being the only kid in diapers at family gatherings and my mom being ashamed of having to pull me aside and change into a dry one or even worse a non filthy one.
I also remember a really embarrassing episode when I took a dump in my diaper during a morning gathering in preschool and the disgusted faces of the other kids. Even my teachers got disgusted but they tried to keep a straight face and pretending like nothing had happened.
Later that day they tried to persuade my mother to try to potty train me again. I was five at the time and I remember standing next to my mom as she explained that I was not ready yet to go without a diaper but that they would of course come one day.
Some time after that I learned how to poo in the potty but still I didn't manage to control my bladder so my mom kept me in pull-ups. This got the teachers happier but they still didn't really hide their reaction when me as a six year asked them to help me change my pull-up. I couldn't do this myself as I hadn't yet accomplished to wipe my bottom clean from the pee.
When I was six my dad and I went for a trip with my friend and his dad - to his home town, Chicago - him also being good friends with my dad. I remember the look on their faces when they saw how many pull-ups and tape-style diapers (for me to wear on the plane and to bed).
My dad brought as he counted that I would use approximately four pull-ups per day, and one diaper per night which accounted for 50 white garments to wear since we were staying there for two weeks. I usually wore Libero up & go size 8 pull-ups for daytime use and Libero comfort size 7 tape-style diapers for night time use.
On the plane my dad walked with me to the toilet to change me into the tape-style diaper and I remember him holding it in his hand as we made our way along the aisle. Once we made it to the airplane toilet there was a small que with people waiting to use it.
Standing there with my dad, him holding a big white diaper in his hand and the six year old me obviously wearing a pull-up underneath my shorts, them being hard to conceal I felt as if I was just a small toddler. This was one of the first times when it really bothered me that I had to wear a diaper.
As if things couldn't get even worse a boy of the same age sitting behind where I was standing pointed on my padded back and whispered to his dad, I recognized this and got really upset. My dad then hid the diaper under his T-shirt but the damage was already made. When we entered the toilet the wet pull-up was off in no-time and the diapering procedure went quicker than usual, I guess my dad did this to not extend my agony longer than necessary.
The problem was that the extra bulk that the tape-style offered made it quite hard to fit the shorts over so I had to make it back to our seats with my diaper blatantly exposed. I began to cry as we walked along the aisle and I remember having to sit next to my friend in only a diaper looking like a big toddler for the rest of the trip since we didn't bring any bigger pants with the bag we brought inside the plane.
Lucky for me he also wet the bed from time to time so he was going to wear diapers during the night. So when our fathers said it was time to sleep he was diapered too, although with pants over. Him not being used to wearing diapers this was excruciating enough though.
Trying to sleep in a sitting position became even harder as I still was embarrassed by not having any pants over my bulky diaper and I fell asleep with my two hands covering the front.
About one hour before landing my dad woke us up. My diaper was by then yellow tinted and bulkier than when I fell asleep, his was dry since he wore it for worst case scenario. My friends dad got surprised by the amount I had peed in my sleep but I was used to it, only being embarrassed to sit in a wet diaper next to my friend and his dad.
My friend was to keep his dry diaper on for the sake of convenience but mine of course had to be changed. To my horror my dad thought it was best to change my wet diaper with me laying on our seat to spare me the embarrassing act of walking down the aisle in a wet diaper.
He pulled out a fresh pull-up from our bag and proceeded to untape my diaper. Next he wiped my bare bottom and finally he pulled the pull-up up along my ankle. This time I of course could put my shorts back on, lucky since I don't what reactions we would have gotten if I had to walk through customs in just a pull-up.
The first week was pretty ordinary as we stayed in a hotel in downtown Chicago. My dad had told about my bedwetting so my bed had a plastic covering. I still had to wear a diaper to bed though since none of us even tried to ignore the fact that there were few nights when I didn't wet.
At home I usually ate breakfast with last nights diaper under my pajama. But since our friends slept in the same big room he changed it when I woke up. In the first few days all of us were quite jet-lagged and we woke up really early in the morning.
The fact that my friend wet the bed fewer times than me embarrassed me (I wet the bed every night). The flight and the first week was nothing though compared to the second week when we lived with my friends dad's family.
End of part 1
Written By: Eric
Growing up I was well-behaved and mature except for the fact that I had no real control of my bladder. I was in daytime diapers even the last summer before my first year of school. In Sweden it's rare that children wear diapers during the day past the age of two, which meant I sometimes got teased for my problem.
I remember that the worst part wasn't actually my friends but rather their parents. They looked upon me as if I was a failure, a child too weak to mature. As my parents didn't really talk about it with each other no real solution to my wetting problem surfaced. This meant I just continued to wear diapers full-time until I was seven years old.
I remember being the only kid in diapers at family gatherings and my mom being ashamed of having to pull me aside and change into a dry one or even worse a non filthy one.
I also remember a really embarrassing episode when I took a dump in my diaper during a morning gathering in preschool and the disgusted faces of the other kids. Even my teachers got disgusted but they tried to keep a straight face and pretending like nothing had happened.
Later that day they tried to persuade my mother to try to potty train me again. I was five at the time and I remember standing next to my mom as she explained that I was not ready yet to go without a diaper but that they would of course come one day.
Some time after that I learned how to poo in the potty but still I didn't manage to control my bladder so my mom kept me in pull-ups. This got the teachers happier but they still didn't really hide their reaction when me as a six year asked them to help me change my pull-up. I couldn't do this myself as I hadn't yet accomplished to wipe my bottom clean from the pee.
When I was six my dad and I went for a trip with my friend and his dad - to his home town, Chicago - him also being good friends with my dad. I remember the look on their faces when they saw how many pull-ups and tape-style diapers (for me to wear on the plane and to bed).
My dad brought as he counted that I would use approximately four pull-ups per day, and one diaper per night which accounted for 50 white garments to wear since we were staying there for two weeks. I usually wore Libero up & go size 8 pull-ups for daytime use and Libero comfort size 7 tape-style diapers for night time use.
On the plane my dad walked with me to the toilet to change me into the tape-style diaper and I remember him holding it in his hand as we made our way along the aisle. Once we made it to the airplane toilet there was a small que with people waiting to use it.
Standing there with my dad, him holding a big white diaper in his hand and the six year old me obviously wearing a pull-up underneath my shorts, them being hard to conceal I felt as if I was just a small toddler. This was one of the first times when it really bothered me that I had to wear a diaper.
As if things couldn't get even worse a boy of the same age sitting behind where I was standing pointed on my padded back and whispered to his dad, I recognized this and got really upset. My dad then hid the diaper under his T-shirt but the damage was already made. When we entered the toilet the wet pull-up was off in no-time and the diapering procedure went quicker than usual, I guess my dad did this to not extend my agony longer than necessary.
The problem was that the extra bulk that the tape-style offered made it quite hard to fit the shorts over so I had to make it back to our seats with my diaper blatantly exposed. I began to cry as we walked along the aisle and I remember having to sit next to my friend in only a diaper looking like a big toddler for the rest of the trip since we didn't bring any bigger pants with the bag we brought inside the plane.
Lucky for me he also wet the bed from time to time so he was going to wear diapers during the night. So when our fathers said it was time to sleep he was diapered too, although with pants over. Him not being used to wearing diapers this was excruciating enough though.
Trying to sleep in a sitting position became even harder as I still was embarrassed by not having any pants over my bulky diaper and I fell asleep with my two hands covering the front.
About one hour before landing my dad woke us up. My diaper was by then yellow tinted and bulkier than when I fell asleep, his was dry since he wore it for worst case scenario. My friends dad got surprised by the amount I had peed in my sleep but I was used to it, only being embarrassed to sit in a wet diaper next to my friend and his dad.
My friend was to keep his dry diaper on for the sake of convenience but mine of course had to be changed. To my horror my dad thought it was best to change my wet diaper with me laying on our seat to spare me the embarrassing act of walking down the aisle in a wet diaper.
He pulled out a fresh pull-up from our bag and proceeded to untape my diaper. Next he wiped my bare bottom and finally he pulled the pull-up up along my ankle. This time I of course could put my shorts back on, lucky since I don't what reactions we would have gotten if I had to walk through customs in just a pull-up.
The first week was pretty ordinary as we stayed in a hotel in downtown Chicago. My dad had told about my bedwetting so my bed had a plastic covering. I still had to wear a diaper to bed though since none of us even tried to ignore the fact that there were few nights when I didn't wet.
At home I usually ate breakfast with last nights diaper under my pajama. But since our friends slept in the same big room he changed it when I woke up. In the first few days all of us were quite jet-lagged and we woke up really early in the morning.
The fact that my friend wet the bed fewer times than me embarrassed me (I wet the bed every night). The flight and the first week was nothing though compared to the second week when we lived with my friends dad's family.
End of part 1
Written By: Eric