Post by Bad Beth on Nov 4, 2014 7:54:16 GMT
Natalie Evans is a misfit with incontinence with some Asperger’s and processes things and thinks differently than most people. She has been bullied and teased and was tricked into nearly killing her autistic son once and lost him to custody and she has gone around meeting strange men with a strange fetish and has worked as diaper stripper and now she has left everything behind and has decided to start a new life in England where her Dad lives and his side of the family and finds out she has a half-brother who gets abandoned by his mother her father knocked up and Natalie ends up as the primary giver. She also does the same thing there she did at home, meets strange guys and goes to their place since her Dad does not approve until she meets Steven who seems different in a good way and he takes like in her an even her dad takes like in him and doesn’t have a problem with him being in his home or her hanging out with him. Is he hanging around just to be sure she is safe and not harmed because he is worried about her or does he really like her and wants to spend the rest of his life with her? But Natalie has to soon share her secret with him because it’s sabotaging their dates and their friendship and she also has to adjust to life in the UK.
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Natalie Evans is seen as "out of control" by her family living her life as a teen than adult and then she moves to England to start a new life there and get to be with her Dad's side of the family she barely knew as a child. Her Dad sets her straight by giving her some ground rules or go back home to the states. Natalie finds another way to do her guy thing without him knowing.
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Story about Natalie meeting her husband/Daddy
Chapter 1
Here I am, coming to my Dad’s home country. I had left behind America and was going to try and reside in England with my Dad and his side of the family and get to know them more. I was only twenty five years old and I had left most of my stuff behind for now and my apartment, my family, and my son. I didn’t have him in custody with me right now. Maybe I’ll get to that later. I sat on the plane doing a latch hook kit and it had just become morning and I had been up for a little while because these seats were uncomfortable. The space was too small and my legs felt cramped and there was barely any room and the seats didn’t recline far. The stewardess just announced tables had to be up so I was doing it on my lap. Dad would meet me at the Heathrow and bring me back to his flat. Since I will be living there I will mind as well start using British terms.
I kept working on my latch hook it until the stewardess announced we would be landing in two minutes. I put my stuff away and waited but two minutes seemed to be a long time for the landing to happen. I could see farm fields and cars driving on roads and I saw houses and buildings more and more and I saw the motorway and cars on it. I knew we were getting closer to the city. The ground got lower and lower and soon we were landing and then we were on the ground.
Finally, I had been on this plane for eight hours and my nappy was all wet and messy. I had two on and a double layer so I wouldn’t have to change on the flight in the tiny watercloset and I had on plastic pants and baggy pants to accommodate the thick nappy and pants. I also took odor remover pills so I wouldn’t smell.
When the plane finally parked, everyone started to take off their seatbelts and getting up. I unbuckled mine and grabbed my diaper bag with my stuff in it. I couldn’t wait to get off this plane. I knew what was going to be next and I was dreading it. Maybe not the right word because I wasn’t afraid of it, I just didn’t want to deal with it but knew I would have to and I hate long waits and too many people. I just stayed seated and decided to wait for the aisle to clear. Going fast doesn’t get you anywhere. Being quick to get off the plane sure wouldn’t get me to my dad sooner so why be so anxious to get off? Then I was going to have to go through custom check. I wondered where Dad was going to meet me and how he would know where to find me. My cell phone didn’t work here. I will worry about finding him later.
I waited until the aisle was cleared before standing up again and grabbing my diaper bag and getting off the plane being one of the last people off. I felt very excited so I felt like jumping and flapping my hands but I didn’t want to look like a retard so I tapped my head instead and ran my hand on the seats as I walked by them. The next step was waiting to check in and have our passports get stamped and being asked questions. I had my American passport on the side of my diaper bag. I took it out and looked at it. I looked at the stamps I had in it two year ago when I visited here to see my dad and his family. Now this time it would be permanent. I felt happy and a little sad I left behind my mum and my brothers and sisters and my relatives and my son. But I had convinced myself I could always come back and see them, I would just save up to buy a plane ticket again and see them. The happy part was being in a new country and starting a new life here and I knew I would have to adjust to their culture and electrical outlets and not being able to use my region one items on their region two items.
I followed everyone to custom check and I waited in line for about an hour before I finally got my passport stamped and I was asked questions about what I am here for and they checked for my visa since it was a permanent stay. I told them my dad lived here and he was from here and his whole family is here. My parents divorced so my dad moved back here eventually and then I decided to move here after I visited him over a year ago. Then what was next was getting my diaper bag checked and they opened it and looked through it and I was sure they saw a diaper I had in there and wipes and rash cream and my odor remover pills and my Nintendo DS and my case I had the games in and my latch hook kit. They didn’t take anything out luckily. They closed it up and handed it back to me and I started to head away from the area. I wondered if I should change my nappy or just stay in it. I didn’t like to change my messy ones in public restrooms. I headed for the luggage claim instead. I followed the signs to it and I read all the signs I saw at this terminal and I saw they had stores and eating places so it felt like I was at a mall and the place was big. They also had TVs hanging down from the ceiling, they just showed advertisements. But I stopped at the current exchange and traded in some of my American money for British money. I got less back because British Pounds were worth more than American dollars and getting less back means their money is stronger than your money. I have heard a rumor that our money was once worth more than theirs but that was a long time ago and then our dollar got weak. Then I really headed for the luggage claim. I took a bunch of escalators down to the bottom level and looked for the luggage claim. I looked on each screen for Seattle. The place was packed and the voice kept coming over the intercom. I just ignored everything and looked at the screens. Then I found it.
“Natalie,” I heard my Dad’s voice
I looked for him figuring out where his voice came from.
“Natalie,” I heard again. “Right over here.”
I kept looking and then I saw my Dad waving at me.
“Dad,” I said coming to him.
“Hey, how are you?” Dad said giving me a hug.
I gave him a hug back.
“I’m so glad you knew where to find me,” I said.
“I just looked for Seattle and knew where you would be,” said Dad.
I was so glad I didn’t waste my time worrying about not being able to find him and him not knowing where to find me.
“How long had you been waiting?” I asked.
“About forty five minutes. Let’s get your luggage,” he said.
We went to the luggage belt and waited for it to start.
I asked Dad about his country and how things are here.
“We have been struggling getting my mum to the toilet,” said Dad. “Her Alzheimer’s is getting worse. We can’t get her to wear a nappy, maybe you can help her with that.”
“How?” I asked.
Dad went in my ear and said. “Tell her about yours and show her and maybe she will be convinced.”
“How can you not get her to wear one, just hold her down and put it on her,” I said.
“She will just rip it off,” said Dad. “I think she thinks she can still make it to the toilet fine.”
“Remember when I was little, she and Grandpa thought I could make it to the toilet fine if I tried harder,” I said.
“Yes, they thought we could fix your incontinence with drugs and surgeries and going to the toilet more and not drinking anything and now she needs to wear them and won’t do it.”
“I bet she is hating how wrong she was so she is trying to prove to herself she was right by not wearing them.”
“We will visit her soon and you can tell her,” said Dad.
“Where does she live now?” I asked.
“By herself, we all take turns taking care of her and she has two carers that comes and stay.”
“Does she remember me?”
“She is losing her memory so maybe not,” said Dad. “She doesn’t always remember us either. She doesn’t even know who her husband is or remember him. We just removed all the pictures of him because we got tired of explaining to her who the “strange man” is in the photos. It is a lot of work and I just think about when I cared for your mother but this is a harder job because we have to take her to the toilet and pull down her trousers and wipe her and at least I didn’t have to do that to your mother and we have to go over everything with her over and over and at least with your mother I didn’t have to over and over everything because she remembered how to do it just as long as it was in her routine and we can’t make lists for your grandma because she just forgets and gets confused and your mum, no. She knew to do it and knew how. I just had to make lists so she would remember to do them and keep her organized. We also have to feed her but at least your mother fed herself and could get groceries and run errands for me if she was familiar with the route and place. We can’t have your Grandma go out alone or she could get lost. But at least she stays in her house. It’s a shame she had to get that disease. It’s gotten bad in the last two years and it’s become a daily basis.”
I listened to my dad about my grandmother. I was willing to give her another chance since she was a different woman now. My grandfather passed away in 2008 and there was a funeral for him. That was a good excuse to come over here and visit and Dad was already living here when it happened. He also had Alzheimer’s and he just died from old age. He was also a diabetic and had a bad heart. He was also a drinker and Dad had been sober for nine years. My grandfather had quit drinking when his Alzheimer’s got bad and my uncles and aunts and my Dad didn’t give him a drink to have or buy it for him. I didn’t mourn his death nor feel sad. All I cared about was seeing my family and England and being there. He was old and my dad said it was because I was never close to him because we lived overseas and they were so far away.
People were gathered around the belt and then the bell went off and the belt started to move. Suitcases started to come out. I watched for mine. Then one of mine popped out and I saw it coming and I picked it up and had to wait for two more.
“Is there more?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“What did you bring?”
“My clothes and nappies, some books and all my video games for Game Boy and DS, CDs, some stuffed animals.”
“You didn’t need to bring nappies, I told you I would have some in my flat when you get here.”
“I meant cloth,” I said. “But I also brought the rest of my disposables and left behind the cheap brand Medicare will cover.”
I saw more and more suitcases and then I saw another one of my luggage.
“There’s another one,” I said.
“Which one?”
I pointed and said, “The brown box.”
It was all taped with thick taping and it had my name and my dad’s address on it. Dad grabbed it for me and set it on the floor. “Anything else?”
“Just one more,” I said.
“Geez, you brought a lot of stuff, you women have so many things to bring.”
“I’m moving here,” I said. “So of course I brought a lot of stuff.”
“I was teasing,” said Dad.
“Do you wish your other kids will move here too?” I asked.
“That would be nice but I understand they have family over there and they may not want to leave them behind and their own families. I was surprised you came.”
“Why?”
“You have a son and you left him behind. That shocked everyone.”
“I didn’t even have him anymore and he was too much to handle.”
“They are an email away,” said Dad. “You can always email and hear about him. Just most parents wouldn’t move so far away from their child.”
“But I have heard all the time online about parents not living close to their kids when they are divorced or never married,” I said.
“But it’s the internet so not everything you see on there is the majority. They will always stand out more so it seems like a lot.”
We waited for my last suitcase and I finally saw it and Dad grabbed it for me. Then he went and grabbed a cart for me and said, “Put your luggage on this.”
I put my suitcase on it and Dad put my box on it and other medium sized suitcase on it.
“Do you need to change?” Dad asked.
I knew he meant my nappy.
“I can wait until we get to your place,” I said.
“You’re sure? I don’t want you leaking all over.”
“I have on plastic pants and two nappies and a double soaker,” I said.
“No wonder your bottom is huge.”
I didn’t want to change a messy nappy here and no way was I going to have Dad help me with it. I felt very messy and wet and I could imagine it must be all over from front to back and I was looking forward to a clean nappy. When I first changed into it before heading to the Sea Tac, I had messed it right when I got on the plane and I had to stay in it. Then I had messed it again towards the end of the flight and I could feel it spreading all over inside my nappy and it going to the front and it felt gross when I thought about it. But I couldn’t change because of small space and that was why I was double nappied and why I had on plastic pants and a soaker so it could soak all the pee and I was hoping for no messy accidents but I had two. The first one wasn’t bad and I could feel it was a small one but then the next one was a big one and it happened while we were flying over the Atlantic. No one had known I had done it except I thought I heard someone saying a few seats behind me, “someone needs to change their kid.” I guess the pills didn’t keep the smell away totally because someone smelled it unless he had a good sense of small but I heard no one else make a comment or maybe it was just a coincidence.
Then we wheeled it outside and Dad went and got his car and I stood and waited. I sat on the trolley and took out my Nintendo DS and started to play a game on it.
Dad arrived back soon and parked in front of me. He got out of the car and opened the back boot and put my suitcase in there. Then he put my box in the back seat and my other suitcase. The car was packed now because it was so small compared to the cars in America. Then we got in and Dad started to take me home to his place. I remembered to sit on the driver’s side since the steering wheel was on the opposite end.
“Welcome to England, are you ready to be an English woman?” Dad asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Does it feel weird to be driving on the right side of the road again?” I asked.
“You mean the left side,” he said. “No it doesn’t feel weird but I do have a funny story. I got so used to driving on your side of the road, I moved back here and I would keep forgetting we drove on the left side instead of on the right side so I had to remind myself “left side left side left side” and left a note because a few times I would turn right and it would be the wrong way because I would get confused. How is Mum doing?”
“She still wears nappies and she is still a lesbian and she just adopted her wife’s baby she got through a surrogate mum, it took them two years to do it. They also traveled to get married where gay marriages are legal,” I said.
“I thought your mum was crazy for going along with having another child,” said Dad.
“Well Rosie has always wanted to have kids and Mum wanted to support her so she went along with it,” I said.
“I hope it won’t be too much for her, she isn’t young anymore and she sometimes does things without thinking through and she relies on other people to make the right choices. But it’s not my job anymore to worry you know. It’s only one kid.”
It seemed like a long drive to get to his flat. I saw all the roads and cars and houses and some buildings and shops and petrol stations. We took M4 back and it was all off the ground, it reminded me like in Seattle and Spokane where they built their motorways off the ground. I did see tall buildings on the way and I saw the motorway ending and it turning into a regular road. I thought all the homes were pretty and they all looked different than our homes back in America. It was like seeing the olden days in the modern time because of how the houses looked. I never saw central London for its known buildings because Dad didn’t live there, he lived outer. He lived in an area called Islington. He parked his car and we got out and he helped me carry up my stuff to his flat. He took me into a spare bedroom and it was furnished and bed was made and it had bookshelves and a dresser and a lamp. It also had a wardrobe. Dad opened it and it had about two packs of my unopened nappies and baby wipes and a tube of rash cream. “I got you the premium brand and we can always exchange them if they aren’t the right ones. They said these hold well.” Dad was holding up the Attends Slip. “But I got you these like you asked me to,” he said showing me the Abena M4.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“You’re sure?” Dad asked.
“I have my own too,” I said.
I opened my suitcase and started to unpack. I took out all my clothes and picked which drawer to put them in. I forgot about my disgusting nappy at the moment.
“You better get cleaned up,” Dad told me. “You have been in that thing for a while.”
I opened my diaper bag and took out my Abena M4. I grabbed the wipes too and brought them to the bathroom. I closed it and took off my trousers and my shirt and socks. I took off my plastic pants and started to take off the nappies. It was very disgusting on the inside, the poo had gone to the front so my whole pussy was covered in shit and so was my butt. The last nappy wasn’t as wet but I was still going to throw it away. I got in the tub and started to wash the shit off me. I did it until I didn’t see any on me anymore and I washed the poo off my legs and feet. Then I turned off the water and got out and dried off. Then I unfolded the nappy and put it on me. I don’t even know why I brought in the wipes. I didn’t even need them. I put my clothes back on and opened the door and called for Dad again.
He came and asked me what I needed.
“Where do I put my messy nappy?”
“I’ll get a bag,” he said.
He walked away and came back with a plastic bag and told me to put it in there. I picked it up and he held it open as I put it in there and he tied it and said he would take it outside. I assumed he meant to the trash. I brought my plastic pants to my room and put them in the drawer in the wardrobe. I took out my other diapers and cloth ones and stuck them in there too. This would be my nappy closet. I took out my clothes and put them in the drawer.
I also put my CDs and books on the shelf and left my CD Player on the night stand where the lamp is. I took out my adapters for my electrical cords and put them in the drawer. I also had my computer. Dad checked on me again to see how things were going.
“I have things to show you so come on out when you are ready,” he said.
I unpacked everything and put my suitcases aside and left my stuffed animals in the box. I had my toy key chains and I also stuck those in the drawer on my nightstand. I also had my pacifiers and my bottles and a few baby toys. Then I felt anxious because I didn’t know what I was going to be doing now to get settled in. Lot of my stuff was still back in Washington.
I came out of my room when I was done and Dad was sitting at his computer working. He got up.
He showed what he got me, he had gotten me a map of London and things to do here and he had gotten me a monthly ticket to take the tube here and he had the underground map for me. I felt so happy Dad did all this for me. Then he also gave me a key to his flat for when I want to leave and go somewhere by myself.
His apartment was nice looking, it was all wooden floors and the kitchen was modern and it wasn’t a big apartment. When you walked in, there was the kitchen and eating area and the living room and it was all open space. Then there were the bedrooms on the right side and the bathroom was right by the kitchen and there was a balcony with a glass door in the living room. I got to see Dad’s room and it was a bed with a TV set and his walk in closet that was behind his room and it connected to the bathroom and then lead out in the whole open area which was the living room/kitchen/eating area.
I noticed something by the kitchen. It looked like a washer or something but I wasn’t sure.
“Dad, what is that thing, is that another washing machine or is that a dishwasher?” I asked.
“It’s a dryer,” said Dad. “I got so used to the American culture of drying them than hanging to dry, I just went out and bought a portable one so I wouldn’t have to wait for my linen to dry. But when it’s real hot out, I just hang them outside to dry to save money.”
“Over the railing?” I asked.
“No, I have a clothesline out there.”
I looked and didn’t see the line. It must be camelflogged. The dryer wasn’t very big. It was just small and it didn’t look like it would fit a lot of clothes. I opened it and peeked inside. It was small. I looked at the cord and saw it was just a regular cord and with a regular electrical outlet. The buttons and settings were on the front at the bottom.
“I’m glad to have you here Natalie,” said Dad. “Now I am close to one of my children. Later today, we are going to see the rest of your family.”
“When?” I asked.
“Five,” said Dad.
“Where at?”
“At my brother’s.”
“Which one?”
“Garrett’s,” said Dad.
“Will Grandma be there?” I asked.
“Yes she will.”
“So what are we going to be doing there?” I asked.
“Just visit, they all want to see you so that is why they all arranged this.”
“Who is going to be there?”
“Hopefully all my brothers and your cousins,” said Dad. “Just bring your Game Boy and your word search puzzle so you have something to do and to calm your brain. There will be lot of people and talking.”
“How long will we be there?”
“I don’t know. Whenever you want to leave, just let me know but please stay for at least an hour. Then we can go if you want.”
I nodded in agreement and asked, “So what should I do now?”
“Well what do you want to do?”
I thought. I didn’t know. I was hoping Dad would give me suggestions or perhaps take me somewhere.
“Well how about you just sit here and relax, you just got here and everything will be here and you’re not going anywhere,” said Dad. “I have some work to do.”
He went back to his computer.
“You work at home now?” I asked.
“Sometimes. I need to work now, you just relax. Take a nap or something, you probably didn’t sleep well on the plane.”
I realized I had not eaten so I started to look for something to eat.
“You hungry?” Dad asked. “I have some cereal in the bottom cupboard and the bowls are in the top cupboard on the left. I did go shopping and bought some food yesterday.”
I looked in the fridge at the food. It wasn’t very big because it looked like a huge mini fridge. It had a freezer at the bottom and a fridge on the top. I saw the milk and I looked in all the cupboards and saw what he had and he didn’t have much dishes. He didn’t even have a dishwasher. But he did have a dry rack and it sat by the sink. I had some cereal and I put the bowl in the sink when I was through.
I went back to my room and looked out the window. I could see the street and the homes across the street. The road was narrow. All roads in London were narrow. I could see the other buildings from my floor. I couldn’t see the whole city because we weren’t that high up.
I opened my laptop and turned it on. It loaded up and I wanted to see if my Dad had wi fi. I still had some life in it left before the battery ran out. I was too afraid to plug it into the wall because computers used more power and I was afraid of wrecking my laptop. I connected to the internet but it needed a password.
“Dad,” I called.
“What?” he called.
“Do you have internet here?”
“Yes.”
“How do I get on it?”
I heard Dad come and he came in my room and looked on my computer. He found his connection and put in his security password and connected me to it. “There you go.”
I was so happy my computer was able to connect to a foreign wireless. I got on the internet and I saved my stuff to my private forum for in case. I didn’t want to lose my work. I also signed on MSN and checked my email. I also was looking forward to meeting some diaper guys here and having some fun with them.
I saw my friend Steven was online so I started chatting with him telling him I was in London.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes,” I typed.
“I am at work right now,” he wrote.
There was no talk between us for a few minutes and then I heard a sound again. I clicked on the bar and saw “Do you want to do anything together?”
“Sure,” I typed.
“When would be the good time?”
“Now,” I typed. “But you’re working.”
“After work?”
“I am seeing my family.”
“Okay, maybe tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
“So how was it coming here?”
“Uncomfortable. The space is tiny and so are the bathrooms,” I wrote. “I also had to wait in line when I first landed at the Heathrow and they ask you questions and check your bag and stamp your passport. It takes a long time to go through that custom. They do it when you enter a international country. I had to go through the same when I landed back in the states from here.”
I didn’t tell him about my nappies. I never had. We had been chatting for over a year online. He knew nothing about my adult baby side or my desires to find a man who will baby me and be my daddy and change my nappies. I didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him and he was a none nappy buddy. We had met at the science Museum and we exchanged emails so we could continue talking since I wasn’t from here.
I then remembered to send an email to my Aunt Elizabeth to let her know I made it to England and I was now in my dad’s apartment so I took out her email address and wrote to her and sent it. I also saved her email address to my contacts. Now she will read it and tell my mum. She wanted to know about me getting here and how I was doing.
I paid attention to my battery meter and had to get off the computer. I told Steven bye and shut down the computer.
“Natalie,” said Dad knocking on my door. “Do you want to go eat somewhere, I am starving.”
“Sure,” I said. “At least it will get me out of this house.”
“Come on.”
I got up and grabbed my Nintendo DS and my word search book and some games and I left my wallet here. I just packed my diaper bag and put my stuff in there and I got my shoes on and we left. We didn’t drive, we just walked. I followed Dad and I wondered where we were going.
“How far is it?” I asked.
“Not far.”
I just looked at the beautiful buildings and homes and the post boxes and lines on the road and fences and gates and the flowers.
“You like Mexican?” Dad asked.
“No,” I said.
“Okay.”
“I hope we’re not going there or else that is a good way for me to stay thin.”
Dad laughed.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“I know, I just thought it was funny.”
We kept on walking and Dad asked me, “Do you like Italian food?”
“Yeah,” I said.
We walked a few more blocks and he took me to a place called Luigi’s. Under it, it said Pasta & Pizza.
“I heard this place has good food,” said Dad.
The place was packed and not all tables were taken so there was no line.
“Is this okay?” Dad asked. “Not too loud is it?”
“Dad, I’m not Mum,” I said.
“I know that. You used to get overwhelmed by these places.”
I didn’t remember getting overwhelmed at these places.
“When?” I asked.
“Two, three, four, six, seven.”
“What about when I was five?” I asked.
“That too. You were little so we always had you bring a book along to read or a puzzle to do and then you always had your Game Boy. If we ate at restaurants with kid menus, no problem and you were preoccupied.”
”I’m older now so I have changed a lot,” I said.
It was as if Dad didn’t know me anymore. He was acting like I was still the same person as I was as a kid. The waiter saw us and asked, “Just the two of you?”
“Yes,” said Dad.
The waiter grabbed two menus and brought us to an empty table. We sat down and Dad and I took off our coats and hung them over the chair.
A waitress came by and filled our glasses with water and set them on the table.
I opened my diaper bag and took out my odor remover pills and took a capsule. I took two since I missed a dose this morning.
Dad saw me taking them. “What are those?”
“My odor remover pills, they keep my poop from smelling when I go,” I replied. “Remember?”
“Yes,” said Dad. “I just didn’t know which pills you were taking.”
“I don’t take any other pills,” I said. “Well I take aspirin for my period cramps but then I don’t need to anymore. It’s only for the first day or two when it comes.”
I put the bottle back in my nappy bag and looked at my menu.
Dad looked at his. I looked at the pasta. I looked around at the restaurant and it wasn’t a huge place, it had all tables and no booths and it had a counter for customers to sit at.
Dad and I finally decided on what we wanted and he took a sip from his glass. I took a sip from mine.
Then the waiter stopped by again. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’ll just have water,” I said.
“I’ll have tea,” said Dad. “And we’re ready to order.”
The waiter took out his pad and said, “You want water and you want tea, what can we get you?”
“I’ll take the baked chicken with fettuccini gluseppe,” said Dad.
“And what side order would you like?” the waiter asked.
Dad looked at the menu again. “Italian sausage.”
The waiter wrote it down as I said, “And I’ll take cheese ravioli with cheese sauce.”
“And the side order?”
I looked on my menu and asked, “What side orders do you have?”
“Natalie, it’s right below the pizzas,” said Dad.
“Where?” I asked.
Dad pointed and I looked. “Garlic bread,” I said.
Dad and I handed our menus to him and he took them and walked away. Now we had to wait for our food. I took out my Nintendo DS and started to play my game again.
“What game are you playing?” Dad asked.
“Brain Age 2,” I said.
I had just bought the game at Gamestop with my gift card before the move. My favorite game on here was the piano.
“How do you play that game?” Dad asked.
That was a complicated question because I didn’t have words to describe all the details of the game so I just said, “You play a bunch of mini games like connecting the dots, playing the piano and it tells you what notes to play and there is Sudoku and counting money and telling time, math, and there is a game on here that is like Dr. Mario.”
“I don’t know anything about those games you play,” said Dad. “So I have no clue what you are saying. Hey you took your bracelet off.”
I looked at my arms and realized he was talking about the ID bracelet I used to wear. “Yeah, I moved so I didn’t need it,” I said. “Besides it gives me too much attention and I would rather be ignored so I kept it off and I never have any problems in public so I don’t need it.”
“Oh you never know, you should wear one.”
“But it was old and the phone numbers on it are not valid and neither is my home address,” I said.
“You get a new one.”
“I don’t think I need one and I haven’t had any troubles since that one time when you decided I needed one.”
“Your Mum wore one, does she still?”
“Yes,” I said.
“There is nothing wrong with wearing one. Even people with allergies wear one too if they are allergic to penicillin or morphine or if they have a seizure disorder or diabetes. You have anxiety just like your mum and brother.”
“I’ve gotten better at controlling it,” I said. “I haven’t had a public meltdown in years.”
I couldn’t remember when I last had one.
I kept playing the piano on my game. It just tells you what notes to play and it reminded me from when I was a kid.
Soon our food came and I put my game away and started to eat. I opened my silverware they handed us with our food. I was starving. I started to eat. I was surprised it wasn’t a lot they put on my plate. I was so used to places putting a lot on our plate. Oh right, that is probably only in America and no wonder so many people there were overweight. Just because you have all this food on your plate doesn’t mean you have to eat it all so they were still responsible for how much food they consumed. No one forces us to eat unhealthy or where to eat. We make those choices. Advertising does not mean we have to eat there. I seldom ate at fast food and I never bought pop or chips or fruit snacks. I did buy snacks sometimes but never chips or pop. Because Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Tom wanted to be sure I was eating, they would serve me food they would make, they always gave me leftovers. To them I was starving myself so I could buy video games and nappies and stuff even though I had food stamps and WIC. Then I no longer received WIC and not much foodstamps when I didn’t have my son anymore. I wonder what programs they have here for women infants and children and for people to afford food.
“Dad, what do you guys call here to help people afford food and helping women afford baby formula and other foods for their kids, in the USA they are called food stamps and WIC. What are they called here?” I asked.
“Natalie, here in the United Kingdom, things are different here. We all have a different attitude about the poor so we all contribute to it through paying taxes. What people get is called National Insurance.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s what they give people like houses and furniture and money for food and money to help them find work. They also have housing benefits and it pays their bills and rent. It’s all different here than over there.”
“I am so glad I came here,” I said. “This place seems better than my own country.”
“No guns and crazy lawsuits,” said Dad.
“No crappy healthcare,” I added.
“No school shootings, think about that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “No one is allowed to have a gun so there won’t be any school shootings,” I said.
“Uh people can have guns but it’s more restricted who can have them,” said Dad. “In the US, anyone is allowed to own one. I will quote Michael Moore, “Guns don’t kill people, people do.” The problem is they don’t have any restrictions who can have one so stupid people have them and they misuse them or their kids get to them because they don’t keep them locked away.”
“I wish we had that law there,” I said.
“Well it’s in their constitution to have firearm,” said Dad. “So they can’t outlaw it or restrict it.”
“So who here can have them?” I asked.
“For one, if you want to own firearm, you have to have a very good reason why you want to. Two, it has to be kept locked away when not in use. Three, you have to past the test for it first and they come and inspect your house to see if you are the one to own a gun and four, you cannot have any convicted crimes or been in trouble with the law.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s very strict for owning firearm. In fact we have the toughest gun laws in the world and it’s very hard to own a gun.”
I finished my food and went back to my game. Dad kept on eating. “Did you have enough to eat?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
I kept playing and the waiter came by again.
He filled our glasses again.
“The name of this place makes me think of the Mario Brothers,” I said.
“Really,” said the waiter. “That is what we intended because they’re Italian and we were going to use the Super Mario Brothers picture as our logo but we couldn’t due to copyright.”
“Yeah you don’t want to get sued,” I said.
The waiter finished filling our glasses and left. I didn’t drink my water again. Dad finished his food and he asked for the bill. I believe we call them checks back in America.
When the bill was brought to him, Dad took out his card and set it on the table. The waiter came back and took it and then brought it back and had him sign the receipt and then we left.
“Do you need to take care of something in the loo?” Dad asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know what I am talking about, I think you should take care of it so you won’t get wet.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You haven’t changed in what, six hours?”
“What time did we get home?” I asked.
“About nine.”
“What time is it now?”
Dad looked at his phone and said “Three fifty eight, we better head home, it’s an hour drive to Uncle Garrett’s. It’s up to you, if you leak, your problem but you better not leak all over my seat.”
We left and walked back home.
When we got closer to his flat, Dad asked me if I needed to bring anything else.
“No,” I said.
“What about nappies, you should pack more.”
We went up to his flat and Dad unlocked his door and I went inside to my room. I grabbed five more nappies and stuck them in my nappy bag. We left again and headed to his car. I got in but I had forgotten the steering wheel was on the other side because the steering wheel was on my side of the car.
“Other side,” said Dad.
I got out again and went to the passenger side.
“I did that for about a year,” said Dad.
On the way Dad told me, “Natalie, I have to warn you about your grandmother. She may not remember you so introduce yourself as Natalie, not as her granddaughter or else you won’t be able to have a normal conversation with her. She would be too focused on trying to think who you are and how you’re related and how you know her so if you don’t tell her you’re her grandchild, she won’t be over focused on that and she will be able to listen to what you’re saying.”
I remembered what Dad told me about her at the airport. “I wonder if she will wet her pants there,” I said.
“She still has bladder control, she just doesn’t know how to get to the toilet anymore so we all have to help her with that.”
“So why would you want her to wear a nappy?” I asked.
“Because we don’t always get her to it in time so it would just be there for in case she wets herself and then we wouldn’t have a big mess to clean up. Plus it’s a pain to wake her at night to get her to go. It’s just like raising a kid all over again like the days when we were potty training but this is in reverse.”
“Why not put her on a timed potty schedule?” I asked.
“We do but she just goes when she has to because she forgets. She knows when she has to go but she doesn’t know what to do with it and she doesn’t have that cognitive ability anymore to tell anyone she has to go and where to go and how to do it. That is the way babies are before they are toilet trained so we all have to teach them but with elderlies, they will never get it because their brains won’t let them because they are deteriorating while the child’s mind is developing so they are able to learn. Then once they get it and know how to do it, that is when they are potty trained and don’t need nappies anymore.”
“At least my mind isn’t going downhill but I have no control over my bladder and bowels,” I said.
“No, yours is just nerve damage, nothing to do with your mind.”
“I would hate to go without a nappy so I don’t understand why your mother would. Does she like wetting her pants or getting the furniture wet?”
“She is old so she is losing her memory and it’s scary for her,” said Dad. “She knows she is losing hers and knows she isn’t able to make it anymore so her wearing them means she is getting worse and she is weak. She started showing signs back early as 2002 and we didn’t know about it until four years ago and it got worse in the last couple of years.”
“What about your dad?”
“Maybe couple of years later.”
“I hope my cousins will be nicer to me again,” I said.
“I am sure they will,” said Dad. “You’re all older. They just didn’t understand the first time because they were kids and you’re all grown and have matured.”
The first time I can remember being here, my cousins didn’t want me around and made fun of the way I spoke and didn’t like my nappies or how I behaved but only one of them was nice to me and her name was Christina. We were friends. Now she has a little girl named Alexis who is about two now. I could remember hearing when she was pregnant and then having her baby. One of my cousin’s even said I was not a real Evans. Then I was told in 2008 I was a real Evans by the same cousin.
I looked at the scenery and I enjoyed seeing all the houses and buildings and stores. We drove away from London. Soon we were on the motorway and we drove outside of London. I got to see the country side.
“We’re driving on the wrong side of the road,” I said.
“We’re doing a British thing,” said Dad.
“I am so glad I got to move here,” I said.
“I know, having an English father who is a citizen here makes it a lot easier.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They are very strict about who can move here. You have to make lot of money to be able to live here, you have to have a professional job, not some job you can get like at fast food or in retail or cleaning or being some assistant. There is no way they would let you come if you didn’t have family here unless you are going to school or have a fiancé or getting married to someone who lives here. But do not marry someone just to become a citizen here, that is illegal.”
“So I can’t get married to a guy here,” I said.
“You can, but not for becoming a citizen, you do it because you love him and want to spend the rest of your life with him. That is okay. They just don’t want anyone marrying a random person just to get their citizenship or so they can move here.”
I looked at the lines in the road and the barrier on the side of the motorway. We passed under bridges and soon we got off and took another road.
“Geez, their new house is far away,” I said.
“Not too far,” said Dad.
“How do you like being home?”
“It’s great to be close to my family again.”
“What about your other kids?”
“I miss them but they are a phone call away and I call them sometimes, I called you, and I am flying to Chicago this May to see Brian and your Mum.”
“Do you miss her too?”
“Yeah, I still love her. It’s funny we get along better when we’re not together and she isn’t as complicated. I don’t have to take care of her is why.”
“Did you know it’s rare for a divorced couple to remain friends?” I said. “I read about it online.”
“Yes, I know most divorced couples don’t stay friends or in contact with each other unless they have kids together. But it’s rare for the parents to be friends. Your Mum and I grew apart. We were young and it’s rare for a young couple to stay married and we did pretty good staying together for twenty something years and I think we’re both happier. Sometimes people get along better when they are not in a relationship”
“Or marriage,” I added.
We were in another town and Dad drove by more houses and soon he pulled onto a street and parked in front of a house. The road was narrow and we got out and my diaper was soaking wet. I felt for leaks and I thought I felt a damp spot. We walked three houses down and we walked up to the brick-concrete house and Dad rang the doorbell.
“Can’t we just walk inside?” I asked.
“This isn’t your Mum’s family,” Dad reminded me. “You all walk in each other’s homes. We don’t. We respect our privacy.”
I heard someone come to the door and it opened and there stood my Aunt Stephanie. “Hi,” she said. “I was wondering if you were coming or not.”
“We are a little late, I know,” said Dad.
“Is this Natalia?” Aunt Stephanie asked.
“Yes she is,” said Dad.
Stephanie had her arms out and she said. “I am so glad to see you, I remember you at the funeral and I only saw you a couple times when you were a kid. I remember when you were a baby and when you were only ten.”
“I was eleven,” I corrected.
“Oh sorry, gosh you have a better memory than me.”
She hugged me and I let her do it. Then I started to pull away. I felt invaded. Aunt Stephanie let go and Dad and I went inside. I removed my shoes.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
“You want to take a bath?” Aunt Stephanie asked.
“No, she means loo, that is what people call it in America,” said Dad.
“Oh you want to go to the loo, oh it’s upstairs,” said Aunt Stephanie. “Sorry, I forgot the American term for what they call them.”
“Natalie, never say bathroom or restroom if you want to use it,” Dad told me. “If you need a bathroom, you ask for the toilets and they will know what you mean.”
I nodded and headed upstairs and went into the bathroom. It was tiny but good sized. The toilet looked different than ours and there were no bathroom cabinets. It was just a towel rack and a thing to hold toilet paper and a cabinet hung above the sink and it was just the sink itself. There was the tub and it was only a shower head that you took off you spray yourself with.
I took off my pants and socks and coat and I took out a clean Abena and wipes. I took off my wet one and got cleaned up sitting on the toilet. Then I unfolded the clean nappy and stood up and put it on. Then I got dressed again and washed my hands and put my wet nappy in my nappy bag and left the bathroom. I looked in the rooms upstairs. I saw my cousins’ rooms and my aunt and Uncle’s, the closet which they call cupboard here. There was no master bathroom. The hallway was also very narrow. This was the first time I had ever been to Uncle Garrett’s new house. I had only been to Uncle Bob’s and Uncle Lawrence’s. I had been at Garrett’s old house but they moved and live further out of London.
I went downstairs and looked around.
“Natalia,” said my cousin Skyland.
“Whoa, you have gotten big,” I said.
His voice had changed and he sounded like a guy now. He was tall as me now and he had dark brown hair and had a men’s body now and his voice had changed but he still had no facial hair or body hair.
“I will be fifteen in October,” he said.
“I remember when you were only one and when you were smaller than me and still had a little boy’s voice and a boy’s body,” I said.
“I remember you two years ago,” he said. “You still look the same.”
“Adults don’t really change in two years,” I said. “Unless they gain or lose weight or change their hair color or change the style.”
It’s always amazing how fast kids change in two years.
“Hi Natalie,” said my cousin Christina who is the same age as me.
She came over to me and gave me a hug. I saw her daughter Alexis who was only a toddler. My dad was holding her.
“How old is your baby now?” I asked Christina.
“She will be two in May,” she replied.
I also saw her husband Mark. He waved at me. He had a glass in his hand with a drink in it. I remembered to wave back and say hi.
Christina is Indian like her mother because her family immigrated to England from India and met my Uncle Bob and they got married and had kids together. The rest of my Dad’s family are English. My dad is one of the other brothers who married an American and lived over there while his brother married an Indian. Everyone else; my uncles , great aunts, great uncles, grandparents, great grandparents on my Dad’s side all married an English person or Scottish or Welsh or Irish. Both my Dad’s parents were English.
I saw Uncle Bob and Uncle Garrett and Uncle Lawrence and my Aunts Maya and June. I also saw my other cousins. But I notice not everyone was here. I didn’t see Grandma or my cousin, Anji. They were the only ones missing.
I kept looking around, I saw their kitchen and they had a dishwasher and a portable dryer too. They also had their washing machine in the kitchen. I wonder why they always have theirs in there. But I am sure to them they find it strange we have our washing machines in a separate room by the garage and sometimes we have them in the basement or in the closet or upstairs. It’s rare to find them in the kitchen but they won’t be under the kitchen counter. Plus lot of us dry our clothes than hanging them to dry and I am sure they find that weird too. We like to waste electricity but I think we are too impatient to air dry them and with a family, it will be too many clothes to hang dry. Plus we were not even allowed to have a clothes line in our yard when I was a kid because of the rules in our neighborhood.
They also had a dining room and it was right by the kitchen and they had the living room which was separate and they had another room by the dining room and right by the dining room was the sliding door that led out to the garden they call their backyard. I got done looking at the house.
“Where’s Grandma?” I asked.
“She is in the study, I will go get her,” said Aunt Stephanie.
She left to get Grandma.
“Where is Anji?” I asked Christina.
“She didn’t come,” she said. “She is busy with work and goes to school in Cambridge.”
“How far is that?” I asked.
“About little over an hour.”
“What? That isn’t far. My dad and I drove about that long to get here and we were late because of it and this is the UK so it doesn’t take long to get to places.”
“No, this isn’t the UK, this is England,” said Christina. “There is a difference.”
“But it’s in the UK,” I pointed out.
“Yes but you are in England. You don’t come to one country and call it the UK, that is wrong.”
“But that is no different than me saying I am in the USA when I am there,” I said.
“I see what you are saying but we here call it England, and when you’re in Scotland, you say you’re in Scotland, not the UK or Great Britain. Do you guys say you’re in North America?”
“No but we do say we are in the USA,” I said.
“So if I were to ask you where you are from? What do you say?”
“Uh USA,” I said.
“But what state?”
“Washington,” I said.
“Okay so you would say Washington, USA since not everyone may know where Washington is.”
“Why does it matter what I say, I mean we are in Great Britain, we are in the United Kingdom and we are in England and what county is this?”
“Hertfordshire,” said Christina.
“Okay so I say England, is anyone going to give me crap about not saying what county this is instead of country?” I asked.
“No. We only want people to say what country they are in, not say UK or Great Britain because they are not the same thing and they are not countries.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“You need to know your English history, didn’t Uncle Glen teach you? I am surprised he didn’t tell you about our history and the differences. Great Britain is the name of the island and United Kingdom is all of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. It’s very offensive here to call this the United Kingdom when you mean England.”
“You guys are so silly and sensitive,” I said. “If you come to our country and call where you are the US, we won’t take offense because you are in the US and we are in the UK so I don’t see why you guys make a fuss about it. That is like going to New York and calling it the United States and no one will take offense because it is part of the United States and you are in that country, you will mind as well call it North America because it is.”
“You Americans may have a different way of speaking but I am telling you here that is not how you say it and you will offend lot of us if you keep calling it the UK. You must confirm here. We want everyone to confirm if they wish to visit or live here. So if you want to get along, you have to say England, not UK.”
Then I saw Grandma with Aunt Stephanie. Grandma looked different than when I was a kid. She had more wrinkles and her hair had less color in it. Her pants looked dry.
“There’s Grandma, I hope she doesn’t pee anywhere,” I said.
Christina laughed and so did Dad while everyone else seemed silent.
“You must have told her about her condition,” Aunt Maya told Dad.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “Did I tell a joke? Did I say anything mean? What is it? I was serious, not joking.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong Natalie,” said Christina.
“So why did you laugh?”
“Because it was funny, we have been having problems with her going to the loo and we can’t get her to wear any protection.”
“Just say nappy,” I said.
“Oh that reminds me, do you still wear them?”
“Yes,” I said.
“How long has it been now?”
“Seventeen years,” I said.
“That is a long time,” said Christina. “That must be over five thousand nappies you have used, maybe ten thousand or more. I am not good with math or know how many you use a day.”
“I use about three a day when I use Abena and five a day or more when I use the crappy kind Medicare covered and that is if I don’t poop a lot.”
“What’s Medicare?”
“Just health insurance for low income people,” I said. “You still have to pay for it and sometimes not. It depends and I don’t know who pays for it and when people don’t have to pay for it. We also have Medicaid and I always get those two mixed up. Whatever old people get, I don’t get that, I get the different kind and I don’t remember which one it is.”
“Can you get it treated so you wouldn’t have to wear them anymore?”
“I have nerve damage so it can’t be fixed,” I said. “I don’t want to use any catheters and pills won’t work either and I don’t want any surgeries or have anything up my ass or wear a bag on my tummy.”
“I was just curious, don’t be so uptight.”
“I know, I just wish everyone would accept it and Grandma. You even asked me last time when I was here if I was still using them.”
“It’s just that I read there was treatment for it.”
“Yes but it won’t work for me. I don’t have that kind of incontinence and I have been to doctors about it believe me,” I said.
“What did they say?”
“That it was caused by the damage to my nerves for my bowels and bladder from being in a car wreck, I tried catheters and I hated having that thing in me and it’s a pain to put in and out and I don’t have the patience and I hate wearing a bag on my leg and I still have to wear a nappy for bowel movements. I don’t like anything up my ass or want any surgery to wear a bag and I am terrified of not being able to walk and I am scared of having any other bad side-affects if I try getting it fixed and pills, no way, the bad side-affects I hate and they don’t work for me. I’ll just stick with nappies, they’re a lot easier to deal with even if it means rashes and the smell and the cleanup and having to take a bag with me everywhere and I would still like to have bladder control and bowel control but with all the bad side -affects, no way. Besides I got used to it, I think it would feel weird to not have one on.”
“Yeah I can imagine the naked feeling down there,” said Christina. “Hey where’s your son?”
“With Grandma,” I said.
“Grandma? You mean your Mum?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“He didn’t want to come eh because of this big change?”
“No, I just couldn’t handle him so he doesn’t live with me anymore.”
“Oh. Do you miss him?”
I shrugged. “Not right now.”
“Maybe you will soon.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I hardly ever miss people unless they have been gone for a very long time or when I know I won’t see them again. Some people take this personal when I haven’t missed them and I don’t know why. I didn’t miss my dad’s side because I didn’t know them well but I missed Christina because we were friends and then I had to leave her to go back home to the states. Then I got over it.
Then cousin Mayko came over and started talking to Christina. I could remember him saying I wasn’t a real Evans. That hurt. To this day I still don’t understand why he said it to me. I know it’s not because I am an American or else he would have said it to my siblings, Brian, Matthew, and Kelly.
Christina talked to Mayko forgetting she was talking to me. I hate it when people do that.
I walked around the home again looking at what they had. I felt nervous and I looked at their wallpaper and picture frames on the wall. They also had up family pictures. Then I went upstairs. They had more family portraits on the walls in the staircase. I saw my twelve year old cousin Lucas. He was in his room playing a computer game. Wasn’t sure how old he was because I didn’t know his birthday but I knew what year he was born. He and I didn’t really know each other except through photos and I had seen him once before. That is what happens when two families live overseas. Now that we lived closer, maybe we will see each other more. I don’t think he knew about my incontinence unless my Dad’s side told him. I did see my other cousin who is his sister, her name is Maizy and she was also downstairs visiting. She is grown like me.
Then I noticed people were drinking alcohol. My dad was offered some but he said he had been sober for ten years and he didn’t want to relapse from another sip.
“Natalie, you want some?” Uncle Bob asked.
“No thanks,” I said.
“You can have some Natalie,” said Dad. “You won’t turn into an alcoholic.”
“I don’t drink,” I said.
“I will just give you a little bit, you’re an Evans and this is our gene to drink,” said Uncle Bob. He poured me a glass and handed it to me. It was just a small amount he poured so he didn’t fill it halfway.
Alcoholism runs on my dad’s side of the family. My grandfather was one, so was Grandma, my dad was one and so was my Great Uncle Walt and he drowned in the bathtub ten years before Dad was born because he got drunk. But it also happened on my Mom’s side too except no one has ever died. My great grandmother was a drunk and so was my maternal grandfather and my Aunt Bridgett, Mum’s twin sister, and so was her husband. Brian could have turned to alcohol but instead he turned to drugs and I did find out he also did some drinking in his teens and when Mum discovered drugs in his room, she watched him like a hawk and always invaded his privacy to find them to make sure he wasn’t doing any. I think Dad became an alcoholic because he was exposed to it as a kid and given some to drink starting at age twelve. Then it became his primary thing, some people smoke, some do drugs and Dad’s was drinking.
I took a sip and the taste was strong. Everyone laughed. I didn’t know what was so funny. I assumed they weren’t laughing at me. It would be terrible if they were.
“What’s so funny?” I asked Dad.
“Just the look on your face,” he said.
I noticed Skyland was drinking too. He was the only minor with a drink. Everyone else was grown. I saw Alexis was eating her snack at the dining room table. Christina was sitting with her. There was also food in the kitchen and it had been made and there were paper plates out and cups.
I put my drink down and sat on the sofa in the reception room and took out my Nintendo DS. I don’t know why they call rooms that here, I think it’s their word for living room or family room.
I was playing the piano game again when Christina sat down next to me.
“How is your Mum doing?” she asked.
“Fine I guess,” I said.
“What is she up to these days?”
“She turned lesbian,” I said.
“Lesbian? You don’t turn into it, you’re born that way.”
“But she decided to get married to another woman,” I said.
“But if she did that, she was always that way and she just tried to live a straight life. Lot of gay people tried doing that. Maybe that was why they had sexual issues in their marriage.”
“My dad must have told all of you about it,” I said.
I imagined him telling his brothers and parents about his issues with sex during his marriage with Mum and how much it sucked having it with her.
“Or maybe she is bi,” I said. “I never asked if she had always liked girls. I remember when she first met Rosie, they were friends and Mum always talked about her saying how good she is and understanding and then she was saying she loves her and her wife had also been married to a guy but he was mean and abusive to her so she would never trust a guy again. But she liked her too. I don’t know if they have sex, I will never ask. I can’t imagine picturing them doing it.”
“Do they like hold hands or hug and kiss?” Christina asked.
“I have seen her rub her head and holding her hand but I have never seen them make out but they do sleep in the same bed. Plus they had a baby through a surrogate mum and my mum adopted it.”
“Really? I never knew that. Was it a boy or a girl?”
“Girl,” I said.
“Wow, old couple they are for having a child.”
“Rosie is thirteen years younger than my mum,” I said. “I hope she won’t have more, my mum is too old to be having more or else she would be in her seventies when her last kid finishes high school.”
“Yeah it’s hard raising kids when you’re older.”
I imagined my mum having more and having more siblings in the family. But they would be over twenty five years younger than me and I wouldn’t even know them and they wouldn’t know me. I already had a sister who was twenty four years younger than me. Doing the math, Mum will be seventy when Mary-Jane finishes high school.
“So when do you think you will have your son again?” Christina asked.
“Never,” I said.
“Never? What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t handle him so I was never a good mum and if I can’t handle him, I probably shouldn’t even be a parent. People say if you can’t handle a special needs child, don’t have any more kids.”
“That’s baloney. Not everyone can handle them but that doesn’t mean they can’t be parents, they just can’t handle a special needs child is all.”
“But even normal kids are work,” I said. “You have to fight for them too and I remember my brother doing drugs and drinking and Mum had to watch him closer and they fought a lot in his teens and then there was Kelly and she was work too because she was a normie and so was Brian. I am worried about having normal kids and them hating me too or fighting with me and getting depressed. My sister already hates our mum and she told me to do better than her and I feel I failed it. I bet she is happy I just gave him up because when she was little, she wanted to go somewhere else and then was shocked when they were willing to let her. Plus I was worried I would be one of those mums who kills their special needs children because of too much of a burden and all the stress they put on them.”
Christina jumped at that comment. I bet it was because she was shocked I was worried about doing it and it would have happened if I kept him. I do not handle stress well and I go crazy from too much of it.
“I think you’re being hard on yourself, all mums feel that way from time to time,” Christina assured.
“But I felt that way all the time,” I said.
“I hope you get the help you need and you won’t,” said Christina.
If only you knew, I thought. I couldn’t tell her. I felt too bad about myself. I should have had an abortion than having him.
“But he was autistic and do moms of special needs kids feel this way all the time?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I never had that experience. But I can see how stressful it be so I can imagine they must feel that way more often than most mums but I don’t think you would have ended up killing him.”
“But I can’t handle stress well and I do go crazy when pushed over the edge so I can imagine myself doing it,” I said.
If only she knew. I wanted to say more but then she might hate me and so would the rest of my Dad’s family. If I killed my son, then I would have to kill myself too so I won’t go to jail and be seen as a killer by everyone and face all the hate. All those parents should leave their families or hand their special needs child to the state or let someone else take their child and take care of it for them instead of killing them and that is what I did. Now how am I going to tell people I have children and explain to them why I don’t have my kid living at home with me? He died or he lives with his Dad but those would be lies. His dad isn’t in his life. He abandoned him and never wanted to be a dad. Now I had left him but at least I tried. He never did. I left his dad when I was seven months pregnant because he was mean to me and a jerk. But he never wanted to be part of our son’s life. He didn’t even want to see him. I went back to my Dads who was still living in Saltwater, Washington at the time and Mum had already moved out and was living in her own apartment in town. Then she met Rosie and she took over helping her like with groceries and bills and with planning. Without any help, her apartment would be a disaster and no bills would be paid and she wouldn’t have food. It was like she couldn’t function by herself. Now I know it was all due to executive functioning issues and she needed a routine to clean her apartment and to get groceries and she has notes up to remind her of important things. She also couldn’t schedule her own appointments or anyone else’s. Dad always did those things. I never realized how bad Mum was until she was on her own and she would get upset of any of us came to her home unexpected and she was into her hobby again and spent all her time doing it neglecting everything else like her kids and her chores and eating. Since we all lived with Dad and he had full custody of us, she stopped answering her phone. That was what Dad was worried about, he worried if he left her, she would regress and he told me that was how she was when they first met. Without her kids and husband, there was nothing for her to function so she slipped into her special interest and it got out of control and it was all she wanted to do. Then she met Rosie and Mum got better again. She will never function well on her own. Not without another adult with her or some assistant. Then she was normal again, Mum normal, that’s what I call it since she isn’t normal so she has her own normal. In 2002, she was diagnosed with moderate-severe Asperger’s and then she was seeing another doctor and he said she had high functioning autism because of her medical history and the ongoing support she needs to function and he was impressed what she had done with her life despite failed employments and what her issues are and said she was mild. What’s funny is when she was eight, a teacher thought she may be autistic and Grandma Del ignored it and never took her to a doctor for it. I guess she didn’t want two autistic kids. Her son already had it so she didn’t need her daughter having it too. When I was six, my teacher thought I had autistic traits and my parents also dismissed it and didn’t get it checked out. It was the early nineties so the whole autism spectrum didn’t even exist and back then autism meant non-verbal, rocking in the corner all hours of the day, none stop flapping, shrieking, no appropriate play with toys, no connection to people, that was my parents mindset on what autism was and I was none of that. Then when I was seven, I got in a car accident which caused my incontinence and it brought out more traits and made them stronger and another doctor thought I had it and my parents dismissed it again. I had a head injury so they stopped taking me to that doctor. Then when I was in seventh grade, Asperger’s was brought up and this time they didn’t ignore it. It was the first time they ever heard it and learned about the whole spectrum. Then when I was sixteen, another doctor I saw said I had PDD-NOS but he never gave me the official label because it was never written on paper so my official label is still Asperger’s. I could blame my Mum on it but I don’t. I could blame my behavior on her too but I don’t or else Kelly and Brian would have it too so I know mine isn’t learned behavior like Dad claimed. Sometimes parents like to blame their kids autism on other things like on the environment and mine blamed mine on brain damage or my dad blaming it on my mother or on other kids and some parents will blame it on their kids autism and say their other children modeled it or their parents behavior who also have it and many parents have blamed it on vaccines. I have also seen it blamed on seizures, brain damage at birth, born premature, ear infections and hearing loss, child abuse and neglect, and Aunt Elizabeth said it’s just a label and they need a diagnoses to get the help they need and if it gets them the proper help, that is what it’s for. I never blamed anything on my son’s autism except that it’s genetic because it runs in my family and his dad had it too.
I could say I put my son up for an adoption but that would be a lie too. I could say my relatives and Mum wanted him out of my care but then what would they think? Or I could pretend I never had him so no one will know I have a child but that would also be a lie too and just as long as I never talk about him or mention him and if no one ever asks if I have kids, it won’t be lying. It would be like he doesn’t even exist.
But I was facing a problem; Aunt Mayo asked where my kid is.
“He isn’t here yet,” Christina replied.
“Oh, yeah, moving house is tough and I am sure moving overseas is harder so you probably want to get settled here first before you have your kid come here,” said Aunt Mayo. “Your father would love having his grandson nearby and he will help you when you ever need it.”
“I don’t think he will ever be here,” I said.
“Oh nonsense, of course he will, you don’t mean it,” said Christina.
“What’s wrong?” Aunt Mayo asked.
“She thinks she can’t be a good mum,” Christina replied.
“Oh that’s ridiculous, of course you will, lot of us feel that way,” said Aunt Mayo. “You will do fine.”
I didn’t say anything else. I felt like I was being dishonest already by letting them think I left him behind until I get settled here. If I had the ability to see into the future, I may have had an abortion or never have sex at all. My ex-boyfriend didn’t like to use condoms and I thought I was protected with birth control pills even though I knew there was still a chance I would get pregnant but I knew the chances were slim but it still happened.
“Natalia, do you want some food?” Uncle Garrett asked.
“No I’m fine,” I said.
It felt like I had just eaten even though it had been three hours. Christina had some chips and dip.
Dad was also eating. Aunt Mayo went back to visiting my other relatives. I saw Grandma sitting in a chair and there was Lucas talking to his brother and making funny faces to Alexis. Dad was talking to his Mum and so was Aunt June. Grandma was laughing and smiling. Despite her disease she could still have a good time as if she knows what’s going on. Then Dad and her stood up and they walked over to me. He had his hand over her shoulder and held her hand.
“I want you to meet our new friend,” said Dad as they were walking towards me.
“Who is this pretty lady here?” Grandma asked looking at me.
“This is Natalie, our new friend,” said Dad when they got to me.
I remembered what Dad told me in the car.
“Hi,” I said.
I remembered to not call her Grandma or she might wonder why I called her that and get all confused and not be able to have a normal conversation anymore. She didn’t remember me so I didn’t have to worry about what she would say about my nappies. She probably didn’t remember my medical condition either. I wonder what she would still think of it if she knew. I waited for Dad to tell me to tell her about it so she would wear nappies.
“Natalie, it’s nice to meet you,” Grandma said cheerfully taking my hand and shaking it. “You are very beautiful young lady.”
“Say thank you,” Dad reminded me.
“Thanks,” I said looking down.
“She is shy,” said Dad. “She just met you.”
“This nice man was telling me about your country,” she said. “Tell me where you lived.”
“Washington, USA,” I said.
“Oh, the president.”
“No, the state, not DC,” I said.
Grandma had a look on her face and was moving her head.
“There are two Washingtons,” Dad told her.
Grandma stared at him.
“Washington DC is where the president lives and there is the state and it’s called Washington and it’s on the west coast and it’s right under Canada,” Dad explained.
“Oh, I didn’t know he lived on the West Coast,” said Grandma.
“No, Washington is the-“ I started saying but Dad interrupted saying. “Yes he has a home on the West Coast and lives close to Canada.”
“What?” I asked confused.
Dad got in my face and whispered. “She has Alzheimer’s so she isn’t going to understand and another part of her condition is she gets confused so it’s best to go along with it. Trying to correct her will confuse her more and then she will get upset.”
“She was just joking, Lorraine,” Dad told her. “Forget what she was going to say.”
Grandma looked at him and her mouth was open and she was just staring. “And didn’t you guys hang your president?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
“I think you are thinking of Hussain,” said Dad. “Bush’s time as president ended so it was someone else’s turn,” said Dad.
“Oh, I get my facts all mixed up,” she said. “My brain does that. Now who is the president?”
“Obama,” I said.
“Barack Obama,” said Dad.
“Our first black president,” I said. “We have always had white presidents. I remember this joke online, is The White House called The Black House now.”
“Natalia, that isn’t a nice joke,” sad Dad. “It’s racist.”
“I don’t understand why,” I said. “It’s a literal joke.”
“It’s describing skin color. Just don’t tell it or it will get you into trouble.”
Then Dad started telling Grandma I didn’t understand and I didn’t mean it. I got it from the internet and I didn’t know it was racist. I already knew it was because I was told but I don’t understand why it’s racist and racism flies over my head because I don’t see it or understand it.
Bush is white, Obama is black and The White House is painted white and it matches the president color. I see no racism. No one is being hated or discriminated for their skin color.
Grandma didn’t seem like the same Grandma I knew. Her personality was all different and her memory was faded and she couldn’t even keep track of things that went on in life or even understand the difference between Washington DC and Washington State, most people would get it after you explain it. Grandma didn’t know the state existed and she had forgotten about it but she knew of DC so she thought it was DC. Now she thought it was on the West Coast right by Canada. So this was what Alzheimer’s is.
“So Obama lives near Canada now?” I asked Dad.
“Natalie, come with me for a sec,” said Dad. “We’ll be right back, we need to have a private talk,” he told his mum.
I got up and he took me to the other side of the room and said, “I only said that because she was confused and didn’t understand and you trying to explain the state and Washington DC would have upset her. Obama does not live in Washington State. If she doesn’t understand something, don’t try and explain it to her to make her get it.”
“Why would it upset her?” I asked.
“Because she is senile and will get upset because she isn’t getting it. She gets frustrated like you would get frustrated when you didn’t understand school assignments.”
“So we lie to her now?” I asked.
“It’s not lying, it’s just going along with it because there is no point in trying to explain something to her. So we just go with what she thinks and she will then forget about it. She won’t remember.”
“So we can say whatever we want to her and she won’t remember?”
“That’s right. You can talk about the same topic over and over and she won’t get tired of it. So you can talk to her about what you like now and she won’t get bored. That is a good thing for you.”
“I don’t like talking to someone who can’t even remember,” I said.
“But you’d get to talk about the same things over and over. Just think about it. She won’t tell you to shut up or ask you to talk about something else like we used to do.”
“I don’t like talking about my obsessions anymore,” I said.
“You can now.”
“After learning to not do it, I can’t get myself to do it again.”
“That’s a bummer.”
He then went back to his Mum.
I just played my game keeping my mind off the past. Grandma had forgotten about me because she didn’t seem to care I didn’t go back to her. It got too loud for me so I went upstairs and sat in Aunt Stephanie’s and Uncle Garrett’s room where it was quiet. They had a TV in here so I turned it on. I channel surfed. I saw the news was on one of the BBC channels. I was curious about the local news here. Then the next headline came on. “Mother burns three year old child with boiling water for a punishment.” I felt disturbed by that. They talked about it and it showed the snapshot of the mother and she looked young but maybe a little older. They said she got frustrated with him so she threw boiling water at him and he had to go to the hospital and got third degree burns. I wanted to judge the mother and think of her as bad but I felt it would make me a hypocrite. Now she was facing charges. I couldn’t imagine doing that to my own son but I was scared I could have done it if I was boiling water. I wondered what the three year old did to make the mother want to do it. I never thought I would get thoughts about harming my own child but they were always there when I became a parent. Now I can understand why people abuse their kids. They just don’t have good self-control. But at least I am not the one who ever threw boiling water on their child so I was still in the position to hate the mum because that thought never crossed my mind to do it. I wonder if it ever crossed that mum’s mind to do it or was it done spontaneously. I felt better about myself knowing I never did that and never would.
I turned the channel and looked on other channels and they had some American channels like Comedy Central, VH1, Disney, Nickelodeon, HBO, FOX, MTV, Animal Planet, Discovery channel, TLC, they actually had lot of our channels I would find in the USA. I felt like at home again.
I saw more family pictures in their room and this time it was more of their children from when they were little. I noticed they had a picture of us with them from fourteen years ago when we visited here. Skyland was just a baby in there and Aunt Stephanie was holding him. Maizy was also in the picture and so were the rest of my cousins, Mayko, Christina, Anji, Bradley, and Ross. The rest of my Uncles were in there and so was my Dad and Mum and my Aunts. Lucas wasn’t in there because he hadn’t been born yet. Dad is the only one who ever divorced and he hadn’t remarried yet. I imagined him meeting another woman and marrying her and I have step siblings and there is more kids added to the family. I was surprised they would even have some pictures of us. I guess my Dad sent them some of us when we were little so they’d have pictures of us to show everyone and their children so they would know us. I wish we did come here more often and visit but it was always too expensive so we never flew here. I wonder why he didn’t just save up to bring his whole family to visit. I know other families tend to fly to their home country to see their families and mine never did. Instead he only went alone.
I watched Zoey 101 on Nick. Here I was watching American shows instead of British shows. But people here like to be Americans too because they also got their channels and restaurants and movies and TV shows so I could still be an American. I watched another show on the same channel and then Uncle Lawrence was looking for me and said, “She is in here Glen.”
Dad came in the bedroom. “There you are, we were wondering where you ran off too. Aren’t you going to visit your whole family?”
“I already saw them,” I said.
“But you’re all in here isolated and you were looking forward to coming here and you run off in here instead.”
“I needed quiet,” I said. “If they want to see me, they can come in here.”
“Okay. Everyone is going to leave soon just so you know.”
Dad got up and left. I was alone again.
I heard a little commotion downstairs about my grandmother but I didn’t care to find out. I would ask later. Then Christina came in the bedroom and told me she and her husband were going home now and she came to say bye.
I just nodded and said, “Okay.”
“I hope to see you again,” she said.
“Okay,” I said putting a smile on my face.
“We had a very nice visit, I hope we can do it again and you can tell me more about your country and your life over there. I only know about it through movies and from pictures.”
“Okay,” I said again.
“Can I give you a hug?”
I nodded.
Christina put her arms around me and said “Cheerio.”
Then she let go and left. I went back to watching TV. I was glad the hug was quick. If she did it any longer, I would have started to pull away. For some reason I just don’t like them and I want to get away after a few seconds.
Soon Dad got me and said we were heading home now. I turned the TV off and grabbed my diaper bag and headed back downstairs. I started putting on my shoes.
“Natalie,” said Dad. “They’re saying bye.”
I looked up and I noticed Skyland was waving at me and so was Maizy and Lucas. I noticed Grandma was already gone and Aunt June and Uncle Lawrence were leaving too with their two children Ross and Bradley. I didn’t know where Mayko was but I assumed he already left.
I finished putting my shoes on and Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Garrett said bye to me again and said cheerio. Uncle Garrett said it was great seeing me again and having me come live here.
He and my Dad look lot alike but I can still easily tell them apart.
I wondered why my relatives were happy to have me here but they were not happy about my mother.
“You guys do an American thing too like my Dad, drying clothes,” I said.
Dad, Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Garrett all laughed.
“Sweetie, I was just joking back at home about it being an American culture,” said Dad. “Of course we dry our clothes here but it’s more common to air dry.”
I felt stupid. I wondered if I was being laughed at or with and if it was wrong what I said.
“I told her I adopted their American culture of drying clothes because she saw my small dryer,” Dad explained.
“Was it wrong what I asked?” I asked.
“No, not at all,” said Uncle Garrett.
“So why did you laugh?”
“We just thought it was funny, lot of people think we don’t dry our clothes. It’s just more energy efficient to air dry.”
“How come?”
“It doesn’t cost anything to air dry so we do it. It’s more expensive to use a dryer but we use one because we have a whole family living here so that is a lot of linen but when it’s nice out, we air dry,” said Aunt Stephanie.
I just nodded and stepped out the door. I just walked down the street to my Dad’s car. Dad caught up to me and took out his keys. “The other side,” he said.
I walked back around to the other side and Dad unlocked the car and I got in. I was on the passenger side where the steering wheel would be in the US. Dad got in on the driver’s side.
“Don’t worry I did the same, I would get on the driver’s side despite the sidewalk being on the same side only to realize the steering wheel was on this side,” said Dad. “Just remember, the steering wheel is never on the same side as the sidewalk just like back in the states.”
“I think I would be too terrified to drive here, I might drive on the wrong side of the road forgetting we drive on the opposite side,” I said.
“I don’t think you will ever do that,” said Dad.
“Did you do that in the states when you first started driving there?” I asked.
“No,” said Dad.
“Why not?”
“Because the cars were driving on the opposite side and parked on the other side so I knew what side to drive on.”
“What about getting on your side of the car thinking that is where the steering wheel is?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I had never driven here until I moved back. I got my first license back in the states so I was used to driving over there and on the other side. The driving rules are different here than they are back in the states.”
“What can you do here you can’t do back in the US?” I asked.
“Here you cannot undertake.”
“What’s that?”
“If a car is driving slower than the speed limit, you cannot pass them and then get back in your lane, it’s illegal.”
“That sucks,” I said. “That just slows traffic down.”
“Actually, it slows traffic down when people try and pass. That is why traffic would get so backed up during rush hour, everyone is switching lanes and trying to pass each other than trying to get off.”
“So you think traffic would go quicker in rush hour if no one tried switching lanes except for getting off?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” said Dad.
He told me more about traffic laws here and how you can hug cars as you pass but in the states it would be illegal but you can only do it here where there are arrows on the road pointing to the center. On the motorway, Dad did it to another car just to show me. He drove between two cars. I laughed and felt excitement. Back in the states this would be illegal and I had seen people do it before over there and my mum would always scream “asshole” and get mad because they were breaking the law and doing something dangerous. Dad didn’t like it either when someone would do that but he always handled it better and maybe it was because he was from here so he was used to that. I wonder if all those bad drivers were Brits and they were not aware of the law. I always thought they were impatient so they were going fast and driving between cars to get somewhere faster and Dad had always told us going fast doesn’t get you anywhere. Even Mum said the same and she would refuse to go in a lane where cars were moving faster. Then one day she finally listened and then she showed me a car that was in the slower lane and said how it had caught up to us and said “told you going fast doesn’t get you anywhere.” Now I find it hilarious when someone tries to go fast and I catch up to them. I don’t get mad if they are breaking the traffic law, I just laugh at their stupidity.
Then I asked Dad about the commotion I heard downstairs at Uncle Garrett’s with Grandma and what was that about.
“Oh she was pulling down her pants and we stopped her and brought her to the loo,” said Dad.
“Where was she about to go?”
“In the dining room on the chair, she got confused.”
I thought it was weird she was about to pee on a chair thinking it was the toilet. Old people do strange things and I always thought it was in movies but I was now seeing where they got that from.
“I am surprised they are all nice to me,” I said.
“Why?” Dad asked. “They’re your family.”
“But they didn’t like Mum,” I said.
“She wasn’t related to them and she was an adult.”
“So am I,” I said.
“Yes but you’re family. They never saw Mum as family because she didn’t have our blood, our gene.”
“So they only like people who are different if they are their nephew or niece or grandchild,” I said.
“Basically,” said Dad. “Besides you’re older so you are more mature and have grown up a bit and you aren’t so impulsive like you used to be and as hyper and you can control your emotions better.”
“I still get upset and start crying and I feel like throwing things and I have all these feelings inside of me,” I said.
“You still get your moments.”
I wondered if they would still like me if I hadn’t changed and I was still the same as I was when I was eleven.
It was dark out and pitch black and we arrived back in London. Dad took a different route this time and I didn’t care. I liked seeing all the buildings and the country side. We arrived at his flat and got out of his car. I headed up to his residence. Dad climbed up the steps behind me and took out his keys and unlocked the door and turned on the light. I went in my bedroom and grabbed my supplies for my shower, razor blade and tweezers and shampoo, pajamas.
“I am going to take a shower,” I told Dad.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t take a long one.”
I headed into the bathroom but Dad said, “Natalie, stop, let me take a whiz first. I don’t have a nappy on so I can’t go whenever I want.” I let him go in the bathroom and I waited. I heard him go and toilet flushing and hands being washed. Then he stepped out and told me, “it’s all yours.”
I went in and closed the door and took off all my clothes. I slowly took off my nappy and set it on top of the toilet to put on later. I wasn’t going to waste a nappy if it could hold more. Then I realized I had cloth so I could use those here but too late now. I wasn’t going to run out and grab one and risk making a mess if I have an accident. I tuned the water on and started the shower head and got in. I drew the curtain and grabbed the soap my Dad had and used it to shave myself. Then I washed my hair and then turned the water off and plucked my pubic air in the tub. I squeezed some hair out of my skin the razor and pulled out the hairs that were sticking out of my skin the razor also didn’t reach. I did pee as I did this and it ran down my legs and hit the bottom of the tub and it went down the drain.
After I got done plucking, I rinsed the pee off my legs and dried off again and grabbed my used diaper and put it back on again. I wasn’t sure if I should keep wearing it or change into a cloth one. I put my pajamas on and left the bathroom with my clothes and towel around my head. I went in the bedroom and wrote in my diary. Since I couldn’t use my computer, I had to write. I wrote and wrote. I accidentally forgot to put in some details but I figured I can add that later when I write it on the computer. I love typing than writing. I can go back and edit and put in stuff I forgot to add and my hand will never get sore. But my knuckles do sometimes get crampy from typing but that doesn’t happen often. I had the lamp on and I was sitting on my bed leaning against the wall writing. Then I remembered something, rubber sheets. But I would do that after I am done with my diary. I am not sure how long I wrote for but it was a good two hours. I had to write about everything. Why can’t I write a short entry? Maybe I should have only written about my grandmother or about my Dad’s family or about my plane ride or about arriving here but I had to write about everything. Or maybe I should have stuck with my feelings only and thoughts.
I put the rubber sheets on my bed when I was done. Then I had to remake it again. I put the mattress cover over it and then the sheet. Then I was done and I laid back in bed again with my stuffed animal. I grabbed my pacifier and put it in my mouth. I had it clipped to my shirt and I turned the light off. My first night in London.
Chapter 2
I woke up in the middle of the night in a very wet nappy. I felt for leaks. I somehow had leaked and my nappy also smelled like urine. Abenas are not supposed to leak but sometimes they do. But they are still good nappies because they hold a bunch and when I do a long pee but most of the times they are small ones. I got out of bed and changed. I didn’t like doing this because I had to get out of bed and get undressed and take off my nappy and clean up and risk any accidents. Everyone else can just get up and either lift their night shirt or pull down their trousers and go in the toilet and then they are done and they can go back to bed. I got out a cloth nappy and plastic pants and started to change. I stood on the wooden floor part. I had some nappy pins and I pinned the nappy on and put on the plastic pants and rolled up my Abena and left it on the floor. I put my other pajamas on and grabbed a clean towel and put it on my bed over the wet spot. I went back to sleep again.
I woke up again later with Dad up. I could hear him out in the living room/kitchen. The TV was on. I just stayed in bed still tired. The sun was up and I saw light in my room. My pacifier had fallen out of my mouth. I had forgotten about it until I saw the clip on me and it on my bed. I felt myself wet again. I smelled like pee again under the covers so I knew I was already wet. My accident ended and I just lied here and the nappy felt wetter. The thought of peeing in my bed felt exciting. I imagined my guy coming in here and changing my nappy before taking me out in the kitchen for breakfast and he puts me in the high chair. He puts cartoons on for me. Then he puts a bib on me and gives me my food.
I desired for a daddy. I didn’t want my real dad babying me, that felt too creepy and weird. I didn’t want a mommy either, that also felt too weird. I had been meeting AB/DL men over the years and having them change my nappy and give me a bottle or feed me and read to me or just hanging out. Not all of them want to change a messy nappy and that is okay. I know they are just not for me. I don’t want to be a baby 24/7 because I like my freedom and doing the computer and watching TV shows like Zoey 101 or iCarly or Suite Life of Zach and Cody and I like to play video games. I am mostly into computer now but I play my Nintendo DS. I haven’t changed much since high school except I know more and my social skills have gotten better because of it thanks to internet. I think I have grown up a lot. I was looking forward to meeting more AB/DL guys here and having some nappy fun. I like changing their nappies too. Doing all this makes me feel so normal and good about myself and how great my social skills are now because all these men like me and accept me and I haven’t goofed up. They’re all nice to me and don’t accuse me of anything or try and trick me like kids used to do back when I was a kid. Thank god for AB/DL because I can find acceptance for my medical condition. I could find the same in none AB/DL guys but it’s easier when they are AB/DL so it’s not so embarrassing and having to risk losing them when I have to tell them. Plus they will baby me and there are lot of guys out there that want a baby girl and I get PMs about it but I wish they would be from the local guys only. I had been talking to some from here because I knew I would be coming here soon so I only wanted daddies from the London area and from the Seattle area. I didn’t mind guys from Portland or from Bellingham since it was only a few hour drive and I took Yakamites. That is a nickname for people who live in Yakima, Washington. Mum and Rosie became Yakamites. I hate that area because it’s too dry and the city is small out in the middle of nowhere and they all irrigate around there. I could remember in one of the iCarly episodes, the grandfather felt Spencer, his grandson, wasn’t responsible enough to take care of Carly, his little sister, so he comes to Seattle to get her and Carly and her friends make jokes about the name and saying how she will be a Yakamite and at the end her grandfather decides her brother is responsible and lets her stay. Alex had shifted from Grandma Del, Aunt Elizabeth and her husband, and then Mum and Rosie. Aunt was too busy with her job still and Grandma Del said she was too old to be taking care of a kid 24/7 so Mum took over since she liked being a Grandma and he was her grandson. He was taken out of my care when he was two so I only saw him on my own terms and I was there on his birthdays and for the holidays. It was like that iCarly episode except the brother was trying to do what he could to keep his Grandpa from taking her.
I took anyone who was within two or three hours from Seattle. I am also lucky to be a woman because it’s so easy finding men into this. I don’t see many women available and lot of them don’t want AB/DL guys. There are some creepy ones but the ones I met aren’t at all. I am hoping to find the right guy.
I got up soon and changed out of my wet nappy. I wiped myself standing over it and then I grabbed another clean pair and put it on. I put the plastic pants back on and carried my wet nappy in the kitchen and stuck it in the washing machine. Dad saw me up and he saw me in my nappy and plastic pants and shirt. I went back in my room and put my pants back on. I wondered how much I weighed. I didn’t even weight myself yesterday to see how much weight I gained or none or if I lost a pound or a few ounces. I went in the bathroom and took everything off including my nappy. I stood on the scale. Unsatisfied, I got off and got dressed again. I went back in my room and lied back down. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Back at home I would normally get up and watch some TV but this time Dad was watching it and working and he had a little work area. Just a desk with some drawers and a shelf next to it with his papers and stuff. These days people don’t need lot of work space, only their laptop and some papers because everything is on the computer. I was sure they didn’t have the same TV schedule here as they do back in the states and Dad didn’t have a TIVO. I also doubt they had Dr. Phil. That is Mum’s show and I started watching it and I like hearing all the drama people air on TV with their dirty laundry.
My tummy grumbled. I just lied here anxious knowing it might be a boring day. How would I meet Steven with no computer? I couldn't use mine due to different electrical outlets and I wasn't sure if I could use the adapter because the computer may be more powerful than a regular electrical device.
I put my pacifier back in my mouth and peed in my nappy again. Here I was a twenty five year old woman with a pacifier in her mouth living with her Dad and still peeing in nappies and soiling them. Hopefully I will be on my own again. Everyone just wanted me here in his flat when I wanted to move here. But it’s no different when a family or a person moves and they stay with a friend or with a parent or brother or sister when they move. Why pay for a hotel before finding a place to rent when you can stay with someone for free?
I may like being an adult baby and wanting a daddy but that doesn’t mean I want to live with my Dad for the rest of my life or be unemployed. Even if it means living in a flat or home owned by someone in my Dad’s family would still be good enough. I lived in Aunt Elizabeth’s and Uncle Tom’s basement of their home which they had converted into a flat so they could rent it and then they offered it to me when it was vacant and charged me cheaper rent. But instead my son destroyed it and I didn’t do a good enough job to protect it. He smeared anything on walls and left dents in walls and I put locked on everything to keep him out so he couldn’t make a mess and ruin my stuff and he liked taking everything out of cupboards and he liked to play with the light switches so I took out all the bulbs because the flicker bothered my eyes. Plus he liked to peel so he peeled wallpaper Aunt Elizabeth had up. She was very understanding and said she was expecting it anyway. Trying to stop him would result in a bad meltdown and then it was hell dealing with it so I found solutions. I also used ear plugs to block out his shrieking and annoying sounds he made. I also would lock him in our bedroom and close the door so I could have a break from him. Aunt Elizabeth told me I should have seen my mother at his age because she was a lot worse and if she grew up and had children and drove a car and got married and lived on her own, Alex had a chance at that too but the only way for that to possibly happen was to get him intervention and he won’t do it on his own without any help. Apparently either I took it all literal that autistic kids needed to be accepted and not change them or those autistic people were full of it and wanted an excuse and not get better. So now he is getting help so he could live a normal life and be independent even if it means talking and living in a group home or still living at home and working a part time job. Or he could end up going to college and getting a degree and maybe get married and have his own children but you can never set your goals too low. Here I was with no college degree and I can’t even get a high pay job due to lack of work experience and no college degree. If I didn’t have any brain damage or a learning disability I may be doing more with my life and be more independent and not need any stupid SSI. I can still get it while living here because I am an American citizen. Not that Social Security is stupid, I just don’t like being on it and without it, I would be struggling due to no money and having a disability sucks. It may mean free money (nothing is free technically) but you don’t get much from them. I wish I could do more with my life but I can’t. But everyone acts like how well I have done and how good my life is. They all act like it’s a miracle as if someone like me can’t make it on their own or live on their own but plenty of people with disabilities do this. I wonder if they get the same reaction too. It’s as if there was no way I could have gotten this all but I did. What I don’t like is when people make a bigger deal out of things I do or have in my life such as my own place or having a son or driving a car but yet don’t make that big of deal for others. Mum got the same too and my little brother gets it too. I guess people act all shocked and make a big deal out of people with disabilities being independent or doing normal things is because they are expected to not do them. At least no one praises me or gets all excited when I shake someone’s hand or when I change my nappy. But yet when I got my driver’s license, my old school mates from my old school acted shocked when they saw me driving, same as kids in the neighborhood. Now let’s start my day shall we.
I got out of bed and tucked my pacifier behind my shirt. I went out in the living room/kitchen. Dad was still working and he was drinking tea or coffee. I had a bowl of cereal. I just stood and ate. I was used to this ritual so I didn’t think to sit and eat. I drank the remaining milk from the bowl and stuck it in the sink.
“I’m bored, what shall I do?” I said.
“Well you can get changed and dressed for one,” said Dad. “Then we’ll talk.”
“About what?”
“About some ground rules, why don’t you get dressed or you can just lounge in your PJs.”
I just sat down. “I will just stay in my pajamas for now,” I said.
Dad got off his computer. “Okay, here are the ground rules.”
He sat down on the sofa with me. “You wanted to come live in England and I am nice to let you stay with me because I love you and I’m your Dad so I am here to help. However here are the rules for living with me; you will do your own laundry, take out your own nappies, clean up after yourself and wipe crumbs off the counter, any food you want to get you can buy with your own money but I will still grocery shop whenever we need more food. I know you don’t get much money from Social Security so that is why I am going to be helping you out. I will help with the nappy cost and the food. I will only charge you fifty pounds in rent so whatever American dollars will convert into fifty pounds will be how much you pay. That way the rent will include the utilities and the food and paying for the TV license. I will help you with transportation cost. London is expensive and you don’t get much from Social Security. But you will be in charge of your own entertainment. Sometimes I will treat you if I ever take you out. Also you will not bring any strange guys to my flat.”
I felt disappointed. No baby play here without Dad.
“Are you still having any changing your nappy?” Dad asked.
I felt embarrassed so I had a hard time answering it.
“You need to stop that. It’s not very safe and you don’t know these guys. Remember what happened last time you were here, the party you went to?”
I remembered. I went to some party a group was having and I went there with a guy I met from online from Diapermates and some men there gave me drinks and kept making me drink and then I got drunk and they kept making me drink more and then they were about to have sex with me when Dad decided to show up and kicked those men off me before they could do it and he brought me home and I was so drunk I couldn’t even change myself so he had to do it. I feel so embarrassed about it and how stupid I was. I never told anyone about it, not even online. It’s too embarrassing.
“I was stupid and I know now not to drink so much when I am there,” I said. “I need to be tougher at not giving in.”
“Natalie, you’re very vulnerable. People will try and take advantage of you because you’re trusting, you have that innocent personality,” said Dad. “You can get into serious trouble and you almost harmed your son and nearly got raped once. You will not bring any guys here to my flat and I want you to be safe, not go out and chase guys and having them change your nappy and wiping your bottom.”
“I’m an adult,” I said.
“So act like it. You make some bad choices and why do you think your Mum and her family let you move here? I am here and so is my family so they know we will be helping you. You nearly killed your son because some guy told you it was a great idea to give him chloroform to knock him out and he told you he used it all the time when he couldn’t sleep. Then you worked as a stripper, you have already been in two abusive relationships and your first one forced you to have sex without a condom so you got pregnant and had Alex and now you are a single Mum.”
“Lot of women are single mums,” I said in defense. “What’s wrong with being a stripper and dancing in front of men and women at a strip bar?” I asked.
“Natalia, you know what I mean. If you want to live here, you have to follow some rules and I just gave you them. No meeting strange guys and having them wipe your bottom and changing your dirty nappy and no bringing them here. I don’t want them here. That is the most important rule I have.”
“Why?” I asked. “Can’t they come here with you here?”
“No, how do I know they won’t take anything, I am not going to babysit them.”
“Then I will,” I said.
“No, I am not comfortable with them here, my house, my rules. Respect them or I will send you back home and your Mum and her family can deal you. I will help you get settled here and if you brought Alex here, I would also help you with him. When he does come, I will help you with him.”
“But I almost killed him,” I said. “I don’t know who to listen to.”
“If you are not sure of the information, just look it up or ask me,” said Dad.
“But how would I know it’s the wrong information?” I asked.
“Just come to me,” said Dad. “Before you do anything, ask me first. Now you won’t be making any big mistakes you will regret.”
I felt all incompetent and not normal anymore. I had to hear what was wrong with me. I was surprised Dad knew about my personal life. How did he know I had another bad relationship? How did he know I worked at a strip bar?
“I am not telling you all this to make you feel bad,” said Dad as if he read my mind. “I love you and want nothing bad happening to you so you must look after yourself. I know I can’t keep you locked in here from the real world. You just make some poor choices is all so I am trying to help. You just need some guidance. At least you’re not doing drugs or alcohol, that’s a relief.”
Dad rubbed my shoulder and patted my back but I pulled away and he stopped.
“At least I am not having sex with a bunch of guys,” I said.
“But you’re letting them touch you down there and do you know how dangerous that is? They can rape you.”
“That is what Mum said,” I said.
“Yes, she knows that too. You have had her worried and then trying to knock Alex out was the last straw.”
“How do you know about my life?” I asked.
“I’m your father so I have my ways.”
“How?” I asked.
“You want to know how I know these things, I have email. You don’t think your Mum and I still talk sometimes? She told me before you came here so I told her I will take care of everything. We may be divorced but we are still in our lives because we have children together and you also put your life on the internet, I read your posts on Myspace. I know how to search the internet Natalie and look people up. I have seen Kelly’s profile too and your brothers and I also saw you just got Facebook.”
I got tears in my eyes. I felt so abnormal and incompetent. I was being treated like a child instead of an adult. Dad then started hugging me. “Natalie, it’s going to be fine.”
This time I didn’t pull away from the unexpected hug. It felt comforting than an invasion. I just curled my body up in his arms wrapping my hands and arms to my chest and resting my head on his shoulder.
“How am I supposed to find a guy and get married?” I cried.
“Join clubs, groups, go out, but finding these men who want to change your nappy is not the answer. You can’t keep using them to go out with them. There are also blind dates and that is how people meet.”
“But what is the difference?” I asked. “I could meet any guy and they could still want to change my nappy.”
“But you are finding these guys online who want to change a nappy than knowing who you are. They don’t care about you, they just care about you down there.”
But I knew he was wrong. I have met lot of nice AB/DL guys and they had never done anything to me but only changed me and fed me and read to me. Some have even gotten me nappies. I have also changed them too. There was nothing wrong with working as a stripper and dancing in my nappy only and making cash but unfortunately I had to pay taxes for it. I had to count all the money I made that day and put it in my notebook and that was before paying the place for the room I used. People loved seeing me in my nappy and thought it was hot. They even had no clue I was incontinent until I told them and then they would be shocked. I didn’t know why. I had also messed myself on stage and then some men would offer me big money to change it for me. They also brought in diapers for me too hoping they would get to change me. It was the fun times I had without Alex. I had freedom again and I felt so relaxed and happy and I didn’t have to deal with him 24/7 so it was easier to be around him and seeing him. But my Mum’s family had me labeled as being out of control and said I acted worse without him and taking my kid away basically made me be worse. I don’t know what they wanted, I had no kid on my hands so I had more time on my hands so I made good use out of it, what were they expecting me to do? Not go out and keep meeting AB/DL guys? Not be a stripper? I was so proud of myself I was making more money and being more independent and what was wrong with that? I came to a point where I didn’t even want to talk about my life anymore if they were against it. Then I emailed Dad telling him I would like to move to England and how would I do that and then Mum, Rosie, my brother and sisters and Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Tom all found out I wanted to move here and I thought they would try and stop me but I decided I could just ship my stuff to England to my Dad’s place and then move there and bring what I can on the plane. How are they going to stop me? But they let me come and now I saw Dad was setting me rules as if I am a child telling me how to live my life. To them I was someone who didn’t take my life seriously as a parent and my Mum thought she maybe did something as a Mum that screwed me up and made me be this way. I told her no it was my incontinence that helped me go this direction because I am finding guys who like women in diapers and it led me to being an adult baby and learn to just like diapers.
I didn’t become an adult baby overnight or a diaper lover. If everyone thinks so bad of me, why even be a Mum? I don’t get it, people say all the time how people shouldn’t be parents and then when someone decides to not be one, people still hate that. When people abuse their children, people say they should have their kids taken and be fixed and not allowed to have anymore and when someone does decide to hand their kid away because they couldn’t handle it, people still hate it. When a parent kills their special needs child, people get all mad about it and say how they are a bad mum and when someone does let their special needs child go under someone else’s care, people hate that too. All this annoys me. Why do people think both? It can only be one. They hate child abuse so shouldn’t they be thinking people should just hand their kids away or let someone else have them? People also think stupid people shouldn’t have kids and I’m too stupid to even be a mum so shouldn’t they think it’s good when stupid parents let someone have their kids? People just can’t make up their minds and they also do not think and they say only autistic people miss the big picture? I see normal people missing it too because they are sure illogical and I have seen illogical aspies and auties.
Dad let go of me and I just sat with him not leaning on him anymore.
“You’re smart Natalie,” said Dad. “But sometimes you don’t think and you just go out and do it without thinking. You just need to slow down. Use your brain, your common sense, your knowledge.”
“Jeremy didn’t force me to have sex without a condom,” I said. “I just let him not wear one and I chose to still have it and I knew the risks.”
“But didn’t he bully you into having it?”
“No.”
“Pressure?”
“No.”
“So why did you still have it after we have told you to use both and told you to not have it so soon?”
“I wanted to get rid of my virginity and I wasn’t sure when my next chance would be if we broke up.”
“And why no condoms?”
“He didn’t like using them, he said it made it hard for him to cum.”
“And why did you choose to take that risk?”
“He really wanted it and it meant so much to him and I didn’t want to be selfish so we had it and I didn’t get pregnant right away. It took about a month for it to happen.”
“I think he manipulated you. He made you feel guilty so you would have it and you gave in because you really care about other people and want to make them happy and you wanted to be a good girlfriend and he took advantage of it. He was not a good person,” said Dad.
“He said he was depressed without it and said he would feel better if he had it so I always would give it to him even though I didn’t want it.”
“Sounds like manipulation.”
“I should have been tougher but I gave in,” I said. “He would beg and beg me to have it and wouldn’t leave me alone and then he always told me I chose to have it and he didn’t make me and I let him beg me to do it because I should have kept on saying no.”
“That’s manipulation. That is not how it works to have sex and because it was your first time having it and it was your first relationship, you didn’t know.”
There was Jason but I guess Dad doesn’t count it as one. We were both fifteen and having sex was forbidden by my parents and Jason’s Mum and we were not allowed to stay at each other’s homes. Neither of us wanted it anyway.
I felt all angry with myself and at Jeremy. At him for not taking no for an answer and blaming me for having it with him and at myself for not being tough. Then next came the meanness and him being an asshole. Dad was calling it all abuse because he would keep hoping I would have a miscarriage and telling me how fat I am getting or how ugly I am looking and calling me chubby or fat tummy. He would also threaten to kill our baby and say he was joking and talk about how he should kill it and find a way to make me lose the baby and ask if I had miscarried yet whenever I got back from the appointment. But he had never laid a hand on me. He also changed my nappies. That was one of the good things I can think of about him. How could I have been so dumb and stayed with him? It took me until I was seven months pregnant to leave him and he let me go. I think it was because he didn’t want to be a dad. I had never told anyone the details about it except for my Mum and Dad and my siblings know about it too. I feel so ashamed this happened. My Aunt said it wasn’t my fault and so did Mum. My therapist said the same too. How could it not be my fault? Is it because I have a disability? I sometimes wished I didn’t have one or I would be doing more with my life. But it’s limited me from education. I can only stick with none educational jobs and if places will hire me without wanting any experience or require any cover letters or references. I have used Rosie as my reference and Aunt Elizabeth without telling anyone she is my aunt and she said I could use her and she won’t say she is related to me. She will just say her relation to me is landlord which would be no lie. I also get stressed out with resumes and applications and I know it’s all easy but it feels too much for me. Finding jobs is always tough. Then how I got a job as a nappy stripper was when I decided to strip but I told them how would they like something different and they asked me what and I showed them my nappy and I asked if they can try me and see how it goes. I also told them about my incontinence and I really needed the money to live so they tried me and guys actually liked me and so did the workers there so they kept me. They thought my new idea was brilliant. People would be shocked whenever I would pee in them or poop. People laughed and would throw money at me. Some even offered to change me and some would bring in their own to put me in and it was so much fun having my nappy get changed. Then I had to give the job up because of some men not respecting me and I got tired of the pressure and disrespect ad the managers doing nothing about it despite their rules about how to treat strippers. But I saved all the money I made. I had to pay the place for the room and make up people. I bet lot of men in the audience were AB /DL and they wanted to see a woman in a nappy and wanting to change it. I love getting mine changed because it makes me feel young and little inside and I pretend they are the daddy.
“How do I get a blind date?” I asked Dad.
“Well, how a blind date works is someone you know sets you up with a guy and they make you two meet.”
“Maybe you can set me up with someone,” I said. “Is there anyone who is single and looking?”
“Not anyone I know,” said Dad.
I then knew there was no way I could get a blind date.
“I will never fine someone,” I said.
“You will,” said Dad.
“How do you know? I have heard it before and I still haven’t found anyone yet,” I said.
“It will happen when the time comes but right now your kid comes first so you shouldn’t be chasing after guys anyway and if the right guy comes along, it will happen.”
“My son isn’t even here,” I said.
“And the reason why he isn’t was because you were not a responsible mum and helping him. Do you want to be a good mum?”
“Yes,” I said.
“So start acting like it.”
“How? He isn’t here so how can I be a good Mum?”
“First of all, stop chasing after strange men with a nappy fetish. Start focusing on getting settled here, go look for work, show us how responsible you are and stop being a kid, you’re an adult now and if you want to be treated like an adult, act like one. I am not saying you have to give up your video games and your computer and your stuffed animals and your shows and what clothes you wear and your toys, you need to be an adult first or everyone will treat you like a kid, put your needs first, don’t go out and buy video games and starve yourself, don’t put your interests first. Put your food and needs first and then you can buy whatever you like.”
“I have already been doing that?” I said. “I paid my bills first and always made sure I had enough saved for my bills and nappies.”
“But you were starving yourself so you can buy video games and go chasing after guys, that’s not being an adult.”
“So why not let me do what I want even if you think I am not being a real adult, that is what other adults do who are not real adults,” I said.
“They don’t have parents who love them enough to help or their parents don’t know where they are or don’t know what they are doing with their lives, we are letting you live your life too or else you would be chained in the basement and not allowed to go out by yourself. We let you have your freedom but this is about your son and I am giving you rules because this is my home and all adults need to follow their dad’s rules when they live under their roof so I am giving you them. If you can’t follow them, you are going back home to your country, be glad I am not kicking you out in the street, I am willing to buy your plane ticket to send you back and you can live your life there all you want without me getting on your back and feeling like I am treating you like a child. So you have a choice Natalie, be an adult or go home. This is your decision not mine so if I were treating you like a child, I wouldn’t be giving you these two choices.”
I wondered if this was why my Mum let me move here and everyone else, first my son and now this.
“I thought you liked me being here,” I said.
“I do but I would also have to make a tough choice wouldn’t I?” said Dad.
“So Mum let me move here just so you can force me to change my life,” I said.
“No that is not what I am doing, I am just setting you some ground rules for living with me and you have two choices so you make the decision. I could throw you in the streets and be homeless but why do that when you have a home already and where all your stuff is and your bank account. This is tough love I’m doing. I could be even tougher and kick you out in the streets for not complying but being sent home is less tough. But first you need to get your cell phone working again or I can put you on my plan and you pay me for your phone. We can figure out your budget when I get back from work.”
“I got food stamps so I didn’t need to starve myself,” I said.
“Natalie,” said Dad. “You can argue with me all you want-“
“And how can you think I can have Alex back if I almost killed him and wasn’t a good Mum?”
“Natalia, just stop. We have gone through this, you just need some guidance and I said I will help you and you just check with me if you are not sure when someone tells you some information on how to be a mum or how to handle him.”
“But the stress and not being able to handle the noise and the chaos,” I protested.
“Get on some medicine for your anxiety that is your number one step for him.”
“But it costs money,” I said.
“You won’t pay for it, they will, everyone here is covered. The laws are different here about health insurance remember that. When you go on it, you will be able to handle it better and you won’t be as stressed out and shut down as quickly.”
Dad went over the rules again about his flat and then he said, “No dating guys to change your nappy.”
“Dad,” I asked. “How does an adult act when they go out and meet men?”
“I am glad you asked that,” he said. “They wouldn’t let men whom they don’t know change their nappy or go alone with them somewhere with no other person around. They wouldn’t go out of their way meeting men with some weird fetish to use their medical condition to get off on them changing their nappy. You don’t need to find men with a nappy fetish to accept your medical condition. If any guy loves you, he is not going to let your medical condition get in the way. If some man loses interest because he found out you use them, then he isn’t the right guy. You just need to slow down and the right guy will come along.”
“How is a man supposed to come along if I am not dating them because of my kid?”
“When you are not looking, it still happens. Your Mum and I weren’t looking when we met. We met through a bet and were together for thirty years and I was her first boyfriend and only husband and she was my second and only wife.”
“Twenty seven years,” I couldn’t resist correcting. “You and her got together in fall of 1973 and it hadn’t been twenty eight years yet when you separated.”
“Okay, twenty seven years,” said Dad. “But we were married for nearly twenty six years because it took us a while for us to get divorced, two years.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“I was busy and had all those fines to pay and I had to wait until I was allowed to drive again and getting a new car and the cost it takes to get a divorce and Mum didn’t know how to do it except pick up the divorce papers so it took us a while and then we had to figure out the custody and who got what. We didn’t know what to do like where would she go and how will she survive. Your Mum just wanted me to have everything and you kids and she keeps her own paintings and easel and drawings and her books and her clothes and shoes and anything she personally owns. None of us wanted it to be ugly, no parental alienation or games in court and I let her take some stuff. Man, remember when we got separated in our house so we were both officially sleeping in separate rooms and her bedroom was the den?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Then you wanted her in a group home because it still wasn’t working with her living with us because it was still like you two were married and Grandma Del thought you were nuts and Mum didn’t want to be there because the adults were worse than her and lower functioning and more severe with their disabilities and it made her feel incompetent like she was mental or something.”
“I don’t think that was the case, she was just nervous because of other people and how they will get along and the fact she would be sharing a room.”
“And she went there every day to see what it was like remember?” I asked.
“Yes and then your grandmother took over and decided to deal with her and figure it all out since your Mum didn’t want to live with her and be away from all her kids. See she didn’t want to leave you all behind and you did with your son.”
“So did you,” I pointed out.
“How?” Dad asked.
“You moved away from us when you came here,” I said.
“Your brother was sixteen when I moved here, not four, and the rest of you were grown and he wanted to live with your mother because he didn’t want to move here and he didn’t like my rules of a clean house and your mum let him do whatever he wanted just as long as he stayed out of trouble and didn’t do any illegal stuff and came home by ten every night and did his homework and go to school. She was easy.”
“Kelly said she was mean and tough.”
“Mum was different so Kelly felt she was too strict with her rules and she was a teen and it’s normal for them to want their way and they think they know everything and Mum did her best with her and your sister was not impressed when your Mum was reading Complete Idiots Guide to Teenager’s Emotions and Development or Parenting Guide for People with Autism Spectrums Disorders to Raising A Teenager.”
I remembered those books and I thought they were funny but Mum got the last book too late because Kelly was in her senior year of high school and Mum thought she could still fix it. The book had just came out and Mum went out and bought it and it came to her door. But Kelly wasn’t interested in her and she kept pushing her away and she didn’t even give her a chance so of course it seems like Mum never changed because Kelly wouldn’t let her. Now Mum had given up and lives her life having four kids instead of five. Mum quit crying about it and moved on. At least she has her other children and grandson which she loves. She can keep him.
“At least she tried and it wasn’t good enough for her,” I said. “I wonder if she has something wrong with her.”
“I don’t know,” said Dad. “Who knows. I don’t think it matters.”
“Why not?”
“She is just Kelly and they’re all labels. Not everyone needs one and just because someone is a certain way doesn’t mean they have a disorder or illness.”
I always find it confusing, how can you tell if something is a disorder or just a personality? How do doctors distinguish them? How did they know I have one too rather than me just being a brat and naughty and a trouble maker and someone who is just slow and needs to catch up and needs more experience in social situations and someone who was just bossy or mean or just had quirks? What is the difference? When do these all become disorders than just quirks and personalities?
“How much did it cost to divorce?” I asked Dad.
“Not much, about a couple thousand,” said Dad. “We didn’t make it ugly and we both agreed so it was pretty easy and we didn’t fight. People were impressed and surprised how well we were handling it because we weren’t fighting or saying things about each other or fighting over our house and kids and stuff we had. I can remember a lawyer telling us “Geez you guys, if we had more of you, I wouldn’t even have my job.”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Natalie, if more divorced couples were like us, those lawyers wouldn’t be making any money because no one would be fighting during their divorce and fighting over who gets custody and they wouldn’t even need a lawyer to fight it in court, it was a joke” said Dad. “Why do you think it takes so long for a couple to divorce? They keep fighting and fighting and have their own lawyer and keep going to court to fight and that adds up and the lawyers get more and more money for it. We only had one lawyer and your mum just kept saying what I was saying, I have the house and kids and she moves out, she only wants her stuff and I have the rest and I said what furniture she can have and she agreed and Grandma Del was involved by helping her figure it out and moving her into an apartment and she was happy there and I wasn’t going to keep her away from your kids or say when she can see you guys or when you can see her. But with children, it makes things a bit more complicated because you have to figure out custody and child support and your Mum didn’t have any money because she wasn’t employed and she only got money from her hobby which she gave me for our divorce. She would come by and drop it off and it made it harder because she didn’t have income and her medical history was brought up because of it. It was just stressful and your Mum had to get a diagnoses just so she can get on Social Security and it helped us through it.”
I understood now.
“But she got money from her paintings and drawings, how is that not income?” I asked.
“She didn’t get taxed for it because she didn’t have a job so the state didn’t recognize she was making money and she wasn’t doing it to avoid child support and we had to show our lawyer and mediator she was not avoiding jobs to pay it so that is why the diagnoses helped. I didn’t tell them about any abuse or how I had to be her carer or how I felt I had five kids or else it might have involved going to court and have it being used against her and it would have been more money.”
“Why did you need a lawyer?” I asked.
“Because we were getting a divorce and we needed one so he could help us go through it and let us knew what the laws were and our rights. Here we call them a solicitor. Back in America they are called a lawyer.”
The term solicitor reminded of the word back in the states but it meant going door to door selling stuff or telling them about your religion or political stuff reminding people to vote. I wonder what they call that here. I also didn’t think Trick or Vote existed here.
“Then Mum and I were like friends after that and I sent you to her flat every day after school because she didn’t like me checking on her so I sent you there just so you could spend time with her and be with her and then come home and tell me how everything is,” said Dad.
I could remember when Dad told me to not ever tell Mum Dad liked to see how she is doing so he sent me there to be with her and I did good not ever telling her. I was always afraid it would slip out. Every day I would get dropped off there after school and I was the one who started to do the dishes for her and clean the bathroom and kitchen sink and the fridge and Mum was always thanking me and saying what a great helper I am. I realize now I was just being my Mum’s carer or caregiver Americans would call it. I don’t know why Dad picked me. I think because I was the next oldest so it was my turn to look after her and it was only for an hour. Then Mum would take me home. At least she still drove and still got involved with my school and wanted to be in her kids lives and still came over to our house sometimes and for the holidays. But things were different without Mum around because Dad would get stressed out for the house not being clean and we were all expected to do our chores more and would get in trouble for not doing them. So finally Dad called Mum and told her to come and clean his house few times a week and that will be her way of paying child support. It was just mopping and sweeping and working in the yard and doing the dishes and cleaning the fridge and bathrooms and vacuuming. Dad would just give her a list of things to do. Then she was always done before school ended but Kelly always saw her when she get home and then Matthew started seeing her too. That was her way of being with us. But Dad was worried about her living situation so I always went to her flat and if it weren’t for me, her flat would have gotten worse and worse. There was no one there to tell her what to do and then I just started giving her a list and telling her what days to clean the bathroom and what time of day to do the dishes and hanging them up all over her flat. There I was doing Dad’s old work and I was only seventeen. I was close to being an adult, chronically. Being eighteen does not mean you are really an adult because it doesn’t happen overnight and some are adults before they turn eighteen. Madonna didn’t become an adult until she had her daughter and she was in her late thirties. Being a singer and actress doesn’t make someone an adult apparently; it’s based on their behavior. I am apparently not an adult because I was a stripper and going out and meeting AB/DL guys and having them change my nappy. I wonder if my Dad was not an adult until he stopped drinking. I wonder if Mum was never an adult. She can’t even be on her own without any guidance. What if I am just like her but in a different way? Would I need a man to take care of me in a different way than Mum needed?
“Well I need to get back to work now,” said Dad.
He got up and went to his computer.
“Now what do I do?” I asked.
“Ummm,” said Dad. “Why don’t you get dressed and explore London and apply for work when you see any. I only got you a two zone pass so you cannot go beyond zone two and it’s only good for a week, the expiration date is on the card.”
I ran in my room and took off my pajamas and my nappy. I put lotion on my bottom and put on a Bambino since it had good odor control and I was sure I smelled like piss on the plane and no one said anything. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I tend to forget to drink water.
I picked out some clothes and put them on. My butt looked thick from the nappy.
I packed my nappy bag and made sure I had some extra nappies. I left my passport here and I took my Nintendo DS off the charger. I looked in the fridge at the food again and made myself a sandwich and put it in a bagie and left grabbing the stuff off the counter Dad left me. I was down the steps when I realized I forgot something. I went back inside and brushed my teeth and I saw my nappy lying on the floor so I picked it up and stuck it in the washing machine with the other one.
“Natalie, please run the machine,” said Dad.
“What?”
“Run it.”
“How?”
“Wash your nappies, the laundry soap is in the bottom cupboard.”
I looked in the bottom cupboards and found the soap. I put it in and turned the washer on and left again.
I put my hood up since it was rainy. I just walked and looked at the houses and buildings. It was hard to do with the rain so I just looked at the ground. I made it to the main road when I pooped in my nappy. I felt pissed about it. These things are expensive and I just put it on and I already crapped it. I felt my nappy expanding from the shit. I hate being incontinent and I am so sick of cleaning up messy nappies. I could stay in it but then I would have to go all the way home later and change it or do it in the toilets and it’s also annoying. Plus they keep changing rooms locked up and family toilets and it’s so embarrassing to ask for the key and tell them why I need it so I use the public toilets to change. Then there are no trash cans because they use air dryers so it’s either I carry a messy nappy around or leave it under the toilet. The toilets here are not incontinent friendly. Neither are the restrooms back at home but the handicapped stalls usually have a trash can for used nappies where they have the changing table. But here they have changing rooms. They’re rare back in the states. Only place I have seen them at was at Nordstrom at the Westfield Mall in Vancouver, Washington or at a Babies R Us.
I turned and went home with tears in my eyes. I went back in Dad’s flat.
“Back so soon,” he said.
“I pooped in my nappy, stupid incontinence, I hate it,” I shouted.
“Go get cleaned up,” said Dad.
“I just put this one on and I just wasted it, how am I going to afford this unless I starve myself?”
“I said I will help you pay for them so don’t worry,” said Dad. “Don’t starve yourself.”
I went in my bedroom and just sat on my bed. The mess was comfortable. I saw my odor remover pills and realized I forgot to take it this morning so I got up and took a pill. Don’t get me wrong, I do like wearing nappies and messing in them and peeing but I just don’t like being incontinent. It makes me mess at the wrong times and wet and it’s not easy finding a place to change. I had gotten used to doing it in the toilets I don’t feel embarrassed when I have to throw my nappy away and there is no trash can in the handicapped stall or when I can’t fit it in the sanitary napkin holder so I hide the nappy and throw it away and people are too busy going to the bathroom and washing their hands to even notice. Rarely did a toilet back in the states have no trashcans so I have done the worse and hid the used nappy under a toilet because I refused to carry it with me. Online I saw I am not the only incontinent person who has done it. What kind of public toilets have no trash cans? They figure with air dryers, they wouldn’t need them. Another thing that is not fun about being incontinent is peeing while I am changing so hence the reason why I sit on the toilet as I clean up but that doesn’t guarantee I won’t wet when I stand so I take off my pants so I won’t get pee on them. I also do not stay dry long. I think my record for staying dry is about a half hour. But my body is always making pee so I go all the time. At least I don’t shit all the time.
Dad then told me he was going to work and left.
I spent the rest of my time in here in my messy nappy and I peed it more. I just played my Nintendo DS and other games I brought with. I eventually changed and threw my messy nappy away in the dustbin.
I saw Dad had left his laptop here so I got on it and connected to the internet. I went on Internet Explorer. That was the only browser he had and I wasn’t going to download anything on his computer. I checked my email and saw Steven’s reply. I wrote to him telling him I didn’t have a working phone and it was going to be hard to reach me and meet up and I was on my dad’s computer and I can’t use mine due to no proper power cord and my computer is region 1 so I wasn’t sure if it would be okay with their electricity. I browsed the forums and I kept checking my email for a response. Steven responded with,
“Yours should work with a region 2 power cord and your computer should be able to convert to higher power,” he wrote.
I wrote back “How do you know, I don’t want to wreck it.”
Steven then said computers are internationally made so they should be able to work with any power source and to check my laptop and see what it says for input. UK voltage was 240 volts and 50 Hz while North America is 120 volts and 60 Hz and if my power cord says 100-240 volts, it’s okay to use and all I need is a new power cord and I am good and he can help me get one. I replied back asking how he knew and he responded twenty minutes later with a link telling me about it. I read it and I went in my room and looked at my power cord and it read AC 100—240V -50/60 Hz. I looked at my Nintendo DS power charger and it read AC 120 60Hz. That meant I couldn’t get a power charger here for it so if I lost it, I would have to buy one from overseas. But when I plugged it back in, I noticed it wasn’t charging. I turned the system back on and saw the battery was down to two bars and it never even charged like I thought it did. I turned it back off. I felt panic inside. If it wasn’t charging, then that means I won’t be able to play my DS games. I wondered if it was safe to use batteries here with my US Game Boys and Game Gear. I had a Game boy Color and Game Boy Advance but I had left behind my GBA because I had my Nintendo DS Lite and it also plays GBA games. Luckily the Nintendo DS games were region free so I could just get a new one or I could just buy a new charger from the states. I was now desperate to get one now. I wondered how much they cost here in pounds or used. I got back on the computer to try and keep my mind off it.
I do not think moving to England is going to be so easy.
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Natalie Evans is seen as "out of control" by her family living her life as a teen than adult and then she moves to England to start a new life there and get to be with her Dad's side of the family she barely knew as a child. Her Dad sets her straight by giving her some ground rules or go back home to the states. Natalie finds another way to do her guy thing without him knowing.
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Story about Natalie meeting her husband/Daddy
Chapter 1
Here I am, coming to my Dad’s home country. I had left behind America and was going to try and reside in England with my Dad and his side of the family and get to know them more. I was only twenty five years old and I had left most of my stuff behind for now and my apartment, my family, and my son. I didn’t have him in custody with me right now. Maybe I’ll get to that later. I sat on the plane doing a latch hook kit and it had just become morning and I had been up for a little while because these seats were uncomfortable. The space was too small and my legs felt cramped and there was barely any room and the seats didn’t recline far. The stewardess just announced tables had to be up so I was doing it on my lap. Dad would meet me at the Heathrow and bring me back to his flat. Since I will be living there I will mind as well start using British terms.
I kept working on my latch hook it until the stewardess announced we would be landing in two minutes. I put my stuff away and waited but two minutes seemed to be a long time for the landing to happen. I could see farm fields and cars driving on roads and I saw houses and buildings more and more and I saw the motorway and cars on it. I knew we were getting closer to the city. The ground got lower and lower and soon we were landing and then we were on the ground.
Finally, I had been on this plane for eight hours and my nappy was all wet and messy. I had two on and a double layer so I wouldn’t have to change on the flight in the tiny watercloset and I had on plastic pants and baggy pants to accommodate the thick nappy and pants. I also took odor remover pills so I wouldn’t smell.
When the plane finally parked, everyone started to take off their seatbelts and getting up. I unbuckled mine and grabbed my diaper bag with my stuff in it. I couldn’t wait to get off this plane. I knew what was going to be next and I was dreading it. Maybe not the right word because I wasn’t afraid of it, I just didn’t want to deal with it but knew I would have to and I hate long waits and too many people. I just stayed seated and decided to wait for the aisle to clear. Going fast doesn’t get you anywhere. Being quick to get off the plane sure wouldn’t get me to my dad sooner so why be so anxious to get off? Then I was going to have to go through custom check. I wondered where Dad was going to meet me and how he would know where to find me. My cell phone didn’t work here. I will worry about finding him later.
I waited until the aisle was cleared before standing up again and grabbing my diaper bag and getting off the plane being one of the last people off. I felt very excited so I felt like jumping and flapping my hands but I didn’t want to look like a retard so I tapped my head instead and ran my hand on the seats as I walked by them. The next step was waiting to check in and have our passports get stamped and being asked questions. I had my American passport on the side of my diaper bag. I took it out and looked at it. I looked at the stamps I had in it two year ago when I visited here to see my dad and his family. Now this time it would be permanent. I felt happy and a little sad I left behind my mum and my brothers and sisters and my relatives and my son. But I had convinced myself I could always come back and see them, I would just save up to buy a plane ticket again and see them. The happy part was being in a new country and starting a new life here and I knew I would have to adjust to their culture and electrical outlets and not being able to use my region one items on their region two items.
I followed everyone to custom check and I waited in line for about an hour before I finally got my passport stamped and I was asked questions about what I am here for and they checked for my visa since it was a permanent stay. I told them my dad lived here and he was from here and his whole family is here. My parents divorced so my dad moved back here eventually and then I decided to move here after I visited him over a year ago. Then what was next was getting my diaper bag checked and they opened it and looked through it and I was sure they saw a diaper I had in there and wipes and rash cream and my odor remover pills and my Nintendo DS and my case I had the games in and my latch hook kit. They didn’t take anything out luckily. They closed it up and handed it back to me and I started to head away from the area. I wondered if I should change my nappy or just stay in it. I didn’t like to change my messy ones in public restrooms. I headed for the luggage claim instead. I followed the signs to it and I read all the signs I saw at this terminal and I saw they had stores and eating places so it felt like I was at a mall and the place was big. They also had TVs hanging down from the ceiling, they just showed advertisements. But I stopped at the current exchange and traded in some of my American money for British money. I got less back because British Pounds were worth more than American dollars and getting less back means their money is stronger than your money. I have heard a rumor that our money was once worth more than theirs but that was a long time ago and then our dollar got weak. Then I really headed for the luggage claim. I took a bunch of escalators down to the bottom level and looked for the luggage claim. I looked on each screen for Seattle. The place was packed and the voice kept coming over the intercom. I just ignored everything and looked at the screens. Then I found it.
“Natalie,” I heard my Dad’s voice
I looked for him figuring out where his voice came from.
“Natalie,” I heard again. “Right over here.”
I kept looking and then I saw my Dad waving at me.
“Dad,” I said coming to him.
“Hey, how are you?” Dad said giving me a hug.
I gave him a hug back.
“I’m so glad you knew where to find me,” I said.
“I just looked for Seattle and knew where you would be,” said Dad.
I was so glad I didn’t waste my time worrying about not being able to find him and him not knowing where to find me.
“How long had you been waiting?” I asked.
“About forty five minutes. Let’s get your luggage,” he said.
We went to the luggage belt and waited for it to start.
I asked Dad about his country and how things are here.
“We have been struggling getting my mum to the toilet,” said Dad. “Her Alzheimer’s is getting worse. We can’t get her to wear a nappy, maybe you can help her with that.”
“How?” I asked.
Dad went in my ear and said. “Tell her about yours and show her and maybe she will be convinced.”
“How can you not get her to wear one, just hold her down and put it on her,” I said.
“She will just rip it off,” said Dad. “I think she thinks she can still make it to the toilet fine.”
“Remember when I was little, she and Grandpa thought I could make it to the toilet fine if I tried harder,” I said.
“Yes, they thought we could fix your incontinence with drugs and surgeries and going to the toilet more and not drinking anything and now she needs to wear them and won’t do it.”
“I bet she is hating how wrong she was so she is trying to prove to herself she was right by not wearing them.”
“We will visit her soon and you can tell her,” said Dad.
“Where does she live now?” I asked.
“By herself, we all take turns taking care of her and she has two carers that comes and stay.”
“Does she remember me?”
“She is losing her memory so maybe not,” said Dad. “She doesn’t always remember us either. She doesn’t even know who her husband is or remember him. We just removed all the pictures of him because we got tired of explaining to her who the “strange man” is in the photos. It is a lot of work and I just think about when I cared for your mother but this is a harder job because we have to take her to the toilet and pull down her trousers and wipe her and at least I didn’t have to do that to your mother and we have to go over everything with her over and over and at least with your mother I didn’t have to over and over everything because she remembered how to do it just as long as it was in her routine and we can’t make lists for your grandma because she just forgets and gets confused and your mum, no. She knew to do it and knew how. I just had to make lists so she would remember to do them and keep her organized. We also have to feed her but at least your mother fed herself and could get groceries and run errands for me if she was familiar with the route and place. We can’t have your Grandma go out alone or she could get lost. But at least she stays in her house. It’s a shame she had to get that disease. It’s gotten bad in the last two years and it’s become a daily basis.”
I listened to my dad about my grandmother. I was willing to give her another chance since she was a different woman now. My grandfather passed away in 2008 and there was a funeral for him. That was a good excuse to come over here and visit and Dad was already living here when it happened. He also had Alzheimer’s and he just died from old age. He was also a diabetic and had a bad heart. He was also a drinker and Dad had been sober for nine years. My grandfather had quit drinking when his Alzheimer’s got bad and my uncles and aunts and my Dad didn’t give him a drink to have or buy it for him. I didn’t mourn his death nor feel sad. All I cared about was seeing my family and England and being there. He was old and my dad said it was because I was never close to him because we lived overseas and they were so far away.
People were gathered around the belt and then the bell went off and the belt started to move. Suitcases started to come out. I watched for mine. Then one of mine popped out and I saw it coming and I picked it up and had to wait for two more.
“Is there more?” Dad asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“What did you bring?”
“My clothes and nappies, some books and all my video games for Game Boy and DS, CDs, some stuffed animals.”
“You didn’t need to bring nappies, I told you I would have some in my flat when you get here.”
“I meant cloth,” I said. “But I also brought the rest of my disposables and left behind the cheap brand Medicare will cover.”
I saw more and more suitcases and then I saw another one of my luggage.
“There’s another one,” I said.
“Which one?”
I pointed and said, “The brown box.”
It was all taped with thick taping and it had my name and my dad’s address on it. Dad grabbed it for me and set it on the floor. “Anything else?”
“Just one more,” I said.
“Geez, you brought a lot of stuff, you women have so many things to bring.”
“I’m moving here,” I said. “So of course I brought a lot of stuff.”
“I was teasing,” said Dad.
“Do you wish your other kids will move here too?” I asked.
“That would be nice but I understand they have family over there and they may not want to leave them behind and their own families. I was surprised you came.”
“Why?”
“You have a son and you left him behind. That shocked everyone.”
“I didn’t even have him anymore and he was too much to handle.”
“They are an email away,” said Dad. “You can always email and hear about him. Just most parents wouldn’t move so far away from their child.”
“But I have heard all the time online about parents not living close to their kids when they are divorced or never married,” I said.
“But it’s the internet so not everything you see on there is the majority. They will always stand out more so it seems like a lot.”
We waited for my last suitcase and I finally saw it and Dad grabbed it for me. Then he went and grabbed a cart for me and said, “Put your luggage on this.”
I put my suitcase on it and Dad put my box on it and other medium sized suitcase on it.
“Do you need to change?” Dad asked.
I knew he meant my nappy.
“I can wait until we get to your place,” I said.
“You’re sure? I don’t want you leaking all over.”
“I have on plastic pants and two nappies and a double soaker,” I said.
“No wonder your bottom is huge.”
I didn’t want to change a messy nappy here and no way was I going to have Dad help me with it. I felt very messy and wet and I could imagine it must be all over from front to back and I was looking forward to a clean nappy. When I first changed into it before heading to the Sea Tac, I had messed it right when I got on the plane and I had to stay in it. Then I had messed it again towards the end of the flight and I could feel it spreading all over inside my nappy and it going to the front and it felt gross when I thought about it. But I couldn’t change because of small space and that was why I was double nappied and why I had on plastic pants and a soaker so it could soak all the pee and I was hoping for no messy accidents but I had two. The first one wasn’t bad and I could feel it was a small one but then the next one was a big one and it happened while we were flying over the Atlantic. No one had known I had done it except I thought I heard someone saying a few seats behind me, “someone needs to change their kid.” I guess the pills didn’t keep the smell away totally because someone smelled it unless he had a good sense of small but I heard no one else make a comment or maybe it was just a coincidence.
Then we wheeled it outside and Dad went and got his car and I stood and waited. I sat on the trolley and took out my Nintendo DS and started to play a game on it.
Dad arrived back soon and parked in front of me. He got out of the car and opened the back boot and put my suitcase in there. Then he put my box in the back seat and my other suitcase. The car was packed now because it was so small compared to the cars in America. Then we got in and Dad started to take me home to his place. I remembered to sit on the driver’s side since the steering wheel was on the opposite end.
“Welcome to England, are you ready to be an English woman?” Dad asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Does it feel weird to be driving on the right side of the road again?” I asked.
“You mean the left side,” he said. “No it doesn’t feel weird but I do have a funny story. I got so used to driving on your side of the road, I moved back here and I would keep forgetting we drove on the left side instead of on the right side so I had to remind myself “left side left side left side” and left a note because a few times I would turn right and it would be the wrong way because I would get confused. How is Mum doing?”
“She still wears nappies and she is still a lesbian and she just adopted her wife’s baby she got through a surrogate mum, it took them two years to do it. They also traveled to get married where gay marriages are legal,” I said.
“I thought your mum was crazy for going along with having another child,” said Dad.
“Well Rosie has always wanted to have kids and Mum wanted to support her so she went along with it,” I said.
“I hope it won’t be too much for her, she isn’t young anymore and she sometimes does things without thinking through and she relies on other people to make the right choices. But it’s not my job anymore to worry you know. It’s only one kid.”
It seemed like a long drive to get to his flat. I saw all the roads and cars and houses and some buildings and shops and petrol stations. We took M4 back and it was all off the ground, it reminded me like in Seattle and Spokane where they built their motorways off the ground. I did see tall buildings on the way and I saw the motorway ending and it turning into a regular road. I thought all the homes were pretty and they all looked different than our homes back in America. It was like seeing the olden days in the modern time because of how the houses looked. I never saw central London for its known buildings because Dad didn’t live there, he lived outer. He lived in an area called Islington. He parked his car and we got out and he helped me carry up my stuff to his flat. He took me into a spare bedroom and it was furnished and bed was made and it had bookshelves and a dresser and a lamp. It also had a wardrobe. Dad opened it and it had about two packs of my unopened nappies and baby wipes and a tube of rash cream. “I got you the premium brand and we can always exchange them if they aren’t the right ones. They said these hold well.” Dad was holding up the Attends Slip. “But I got you these like you asked me to,” he said showing me the Abena M4.
“It’s fine,” I said.
“You’re sure?” Dad asked.
“I have my own too,” I said.
I opened my suitcase and started to unpack. I took out all my clothes and picked which drawer to put them in. I forgot about my disgusting nappy at the moment.
“You better get cleaned up,” Dad told me. “You have been in that thing for a while.”
I opened my diaper bag and took out my Abena M4. I grabbed the wipes too and brought them to the bathroom. I closed it and took off my trousers and my shirt and socks. I took off my plastic pants and started to take off the nappies. It was very disgusting on the inside, the poo had gone to the front so my whole pussy was covered in shit and so was my butt. The last nappy wasn’t as wet but I was still going to throw it away. I got in the tub and started to wash the shit off me. I did it until I didn’t see any on me anymore and I washed the poo off my legs and feet. Then I turned off the water and got out and dried off. Then I unfolded the nappy and put it on me. I don’t even know why I brought in the wipes. I didn’t even need them. I put my clothes back on and opened the door and called for Dad again.
He came and asked me what I needed.
“Where do I put my messy nappy?”
“I’ll get a bag,” he said.
He walked away and came back with a plastic bag and told me to put it in there. I picked it up and he held it open as I put it in there and he tied it and said he would take it outside. I assumed he meant to the trash. I brought my plastic pants to my room and put them in the drawer in the wardrobe. I took out my other diapers and cloth ones and stuck them in there too. This would be my nappy closet. I took out my clothes and put them in the drawer.
I also put my CDs and books on the shelf and left my CD Player on the night stand where the lamp is. I took out my adapters for my electrical cords and put them in the drawer. I also had my computer. Dad checked on me again to see how things were going.
“I have things to show you so come on out when you are ready,” he said.
I unpacked everything and put my suitcases aside and left my stuffed animals in the box. I had my toy key chains and I also stuck those in the drawer on my nightstand. I also had my pacifiers and my bottles and a few baby toys. Then I felt anxious because I didn’t know what I was going to be doing now to get settled in. Lot of my stuff was still back in Washington.
I came out of my room when I was done and Dad was sitting at his computer working. He got up.
He showed what he got me, he had gotten me a map of London and things to do here and he had gotten me a monthly ticket to take the tube here and he had the underground map for me. I felt so happy Dad did all this for me. Then he also gave me a key to his flat for when I want to leave and go somewhere by myself.
His apartment was nice looking, it was all wooden floors and the kitchen was modern and it wasn’t a big apartment. When you walked in, there was the kitchen and eating area and the living room and it was all open space. Then there were the bedrooms on the right side and the bathroom was right by the kitchen and there was a balcony with a glass door in the living room. I got to see Dad’s room and it was a bed with a TV set and his walk in closet that was behind his room and it connected to the bathroom and then lead out in the whole open area which was the living room/kitchen/eating area.
I noticed something by the kitchen. It looked like a washer or something but I wasn’t sure.
“Dad, what is that thing, is that another washing machine or is that a dishwasher?” I asked.
“It’s a dryer,” said Dad. “I got so used to the American culture of drying them than hanging to dry, I just went out and bought a portable one so I wouldn’t have to wait for my linen to dry. But when it’s real hot out, I just hang them outside to dry to save money.”
“Over the railing?” I asked.
“No, I have a clothesline out there.”
I looked and didn’t see the line. It must be camelflogged. The dryer wasn’t very big. It was just small and it didn’t look like it would fit a lot of clothes. I opened it and peeked inside. It was small. I looked at the cord and saw it was just a regular cord and with a regular electrical outlet. The buttons and settings were on the front at the bottom.
“I’m glad to have you here Natalie,” said Dad. “Now I am close to one of my children. Later today, we are going to see the rest of your family.”
“When?” I asked.
“Five,” said Dad.
“Where at?”
“At my brother’s.”
“Which one?”
“Garrett’s,” said Dad.
“Will Grandma be there?” I asked.
“Yes she will.”
“So what are we going to be doing there?” I asked.
“Just visit, they all want to see you so that is why they all arranged this.”
“Who is going to be there?”
“Hopefully all my brothers and your cousins,” said Dad. “Just bring your Game Boy and your word search puzzle so you have something to do and to calm your brain. There will be lot of people and talking.”
“How long will we be there?”
“I don’t know. Whenever you want to leave, just let me know but please stay for at least an hour. Then we can go if you want.”
I nodded in agreement and asked, “So what should I do now?”
“Well what do you want to do?”
I thought. I didn’t know. I was hoping Dad would give me suggestions or perhaps take me somewhere.
“Well how about you just sit here and relax, you just got here and everything will be here and you’re not going anywhere,” said Dad. “I have some work to do.”
He went back to his computer.
“You work at home now?” I asked.
“Sometimes. I need to work now, you just relax. Take a nap or something, you probably didn’t sleep well on the plane.”
I realized I had not eaten so I started to look for something to eat.
“You hungry?” Dad asked. “I have some cereal in the bottom cupboard and the bowls are in the top cupboard on the left. I did go shopping and bought some food yesterday.”
I looked in the fridge at the food. It wasn’t very big because it looked like a huge mini fridge. It had a freezer at the bottom and a fridge on the top. I saw the milk and I looked in all the cupboards and saw what he had and he didn’t have much dishes. He didn’t even have a dishwasher. But he did have a dry rack and it sat by the sink. I had some cereal and I put the bowl in the sink when I was through.
I went back to my room and looked out the window. I could see the street and the homes across the street. The road was narrow. All roads in London were narrow. I could see the other buildings from my floor. I couldn’t see the whole city because we weren’t that high up.
I opened my laptop and turned it on. It loaded up and I wanted to see if my Dad had wi fi. I still had some life in it left before the battery ran out. I was too afraid to plug it into the wall because computers used more power and I was afraid of wrecking my laptop. I connected to the internet but it needed a password.
“Dad,” I called.
“What?” he called.
“Do you have internet here?”
“Yes.”
“How do I get on it?”
I heard Dad come and he came in my room and looked on my computer. He found his connection and put in his security password and connected me to it. “There you go.”
I was so happy my computer was able to connect to a foreign wireless. I got on the internet and I saved my stuff to my private forum for in case. I didn’t want to lose my work. I also signed on MSN and checked my email. I also was looking forward to meeting some diaper guys here and having some fun with them.
I saw my friend Steven was online so I started chatting with him telling him I was in London.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yes,” I typed.
“I am at work right now,” he wrote.
There was no talk between us for a few minutes and then I heard a sound again. I clicked on the bar and saw “Do you want to do anything together?”
“Sure,” I typed.
“When would be the good time?”
“Now,” I typed. “But you’re working.”
“After work?”
“I am seeing my family.”
“Okay, maybe tomorrow then.”
“Okay.”
“So how was it coming here?”
“Uncomfortable. The space is tiny and so are the bathrooms,” I wrote. “I also had to wait in line when I first landed at the Heathrow and they ask you questions and check your bag and stamp your passport. It takes a long time to go through that custom. They do it when you enter a international country. I had to go through the same when I landed back in the states from here.”
I didn’t tell him about my nappies. I never had. We had been chatting for over a year online. He knew nothing about my adult baby side or my desires to find a man who will baby me and be my daddy and change my nappies. I didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him and he was a none nappy buddy. We had met at the science Museum and we exchanged emails so we could continue talking since I wasn’t from here.
I then remembered to send an email to my Aunt Elizabeth to let her know I made it to England and I was now in my dad’s apartment so I took out her email address and wrote to her and sent it. I also saved her email address to my contacts. Now she will read it and tell my mum. She wanted to know about me getting here and how I was doing.
I paid attention to my battery meter and had to get off the computer. I told Steven bye and shut down the computer.
“Natalie,” said Dad knocking on my door. “Do you want to go eat somewhere, I am starving.”
“Sure,” I said. “At least it will get me out of this house.”
“Come on.”
I got up and grabbed my Nintendo DS and my word search book and some games and I left my wallet here. I just packed my diaper bag and put my stuff in there and I got my shoes on and we left. We didn’t drive, we just walked. I followed Dad and I wondered where we were going.
“How far is it?” I asked.
“Not far.”
I just looked at the beautiful buildings and homes and the post boxes and lines on the road and fences and gates and the flowers.
“You like Mexican?” Dad asked.
“No,” I said.
“Okay.”
“I hope we’re not going there or else that is a good way for me to stay thin.”
Dad laughed.
“I’m serious,” I said.
“I know, I just thought it was funny.”
We kept on walking and Dad asked me, “Do you like Italian food?”
“Yeah,” I said.
We walked a few more blocks and he took me to a place called Luigi’s. Under it, it said Pasta & Pizza.
“I heard this place has good food,” said Dad.
The place was packed and not all tables were taken so there was no line.
“Is this okay?” Dad asked. “Not too loud is it?”
“Dad, I’m not Mum,” I said.
“I know that. You used to get overwhelmed by these places.”
I didn’t remember getting overwhelmed at these places.
“When?” I asked.
“Two, three, four, six, seven.”
“What about when I was five?” I asked.
“That too. You were little so we always had you bring a book along to read or a puzzle to do and then you always had your Game Boy. If we ate at restaurants with kid menus, no problem and you were preoccupied.”
”I’m older now so I have changed a lot,” I said.
It was as if Dad didn’t know me anymore. He was acting like I was still the same person as I was as a kid. The waiter saw us and asked, “Just the two of you?”
“Yes,” said Dad.
The waiter grabbed two menus and brought us to an empty table. We sat down and Dad and I took off our coats and hung them over the chair.
A waitress came by and filled our glasses with water and set them on the table.
I opened my diaper bag and took out my odor remover pills and took a capsule. I took two since I missed a dose this morning.
Dad saw me taking them. “What are those?”
“My odor remover pills, they keep my poop from smelling when I go,” I replied. “Remember?”
“Yes,” said Dad. “I just didn’t know which pills you were taking.”
“I don’t take any other pills,” I said. “Well I take aspirin for my period cramps but then I don’t need to anymore. It’s only for the first day or two when it comes.”
I put the bottle back in my nappy bag and looked at my menu.
Dad looked at his. I looked at the pasta. I looked around at the restaurant and it wasn’t a huge place, it had all tables and no booths and it had a counter for customers to sit at.
Dad and I finally decided on what we wanted and he took a sip from his glass. I took a sip from mine.
Then the waiter stopped by again. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I’ll just have water,” I said.
“I’ll have tea,” said Dad. “And we’re ready to order.”
The waiter took out his pad and said, “You want water and you want tea, what can we get you?”
“I’ll take the baked chicken with fettuccini gluseppe,” said Dad.
“And what side order would you like?” the waiter asked.
Dad looked at the menu again. “Italian sausage.”
The waiter wrote it down as I said, “And I’ll take cheese ravioli with cheese sauce.”
“And the side order?”
I looked on my menu and asked, “What side orders do you have?”
“Natalie, it’s right below the pizzas,” said Dad.
“Where?” I asked.
Dad pointed and I looked. “Garlic bread,” I said.
Dad and I handed our menus to him and he took them and walked away. Now we had to wait for our food. I took out my Nintendo DS and started to play my game again.
“What game are you playing?” Dad asked.
“Brain Age 2,” I said.
I had just bought the game at Gamestop with my gift card before the move. My favorite game on here was the piano.
“How do you play that game?” Dad asked.
That was a complicated question because I didn’t have words to describe all the details of the game so I just said, “You play a bunch of mini games like connecting the dots, playing the piano and it tells you what notes to play and there is Sudoku and counting money and telling time, math, and there is a game on here that is like Dr. Mario.”
“I don’t know anything about those games you play,” said Dad. “So I have no clue what you are saying. Hey you took your bracelet off.”
I looked at my arms and realized he was talking about the ID bracelet I used to wear. “Yeah, I moved so I didn’t need it,” I said. “Besides it gives me too much attention and I would rather be ignored so I kept it off and I never have any problems in public so I don’t need it.”
“Oh you never know, you should wear one.”
“But it was old and the phone numbers on it are not valid and neither is my home address,” I said.
“You get a new one.”
“I don’t think I need one and I haven’t had any troubles since that one time when you decided I needed one.”
“Your Mum wore one, does she still?”
“Yes,” I said.
“There is nothing wrong with wearing one. Even people with allergies wear one too if they are allergic to penicillin or morphine or if they have a seizure disorder or diabetes. You have anxiety just like your mum and brother.”
“I’ve gotten better at controlling it,” I said. “I haven’t had a public meltdown in years.”
I couldn’t remember when I last had one.
I kept playing the piano on my game. It just tells you what notes to play and it reminded me from when I was a kid.
Soon our food came and I put my game away and started to eat. I opened my silverware they handed us with our food. I was starving. I started to eat. I was surprised it wasn’t a lot they put on my plate. I was so used to places putting a lot on our plate. Oh right, that is probably only in America and no wonder so many people there were overweight. Just because you have all this food on your plate doesn’t mean you have to eat it all so they were still responsible for how much food they consumed. No one forces us to eat unhealthy or where to eat. We make those choices. Advertising does not mean we have to eat there. I seldom ate at fast food and I never bought pop or chips or fruit snacks. I did buy snacks sometimes but never chips or pop. Because Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Tom wanted to be sure I was eating, they would serve me food they would make, they always gave me leftovers. To them I was starving myself so I could buy video games and nappies and stuff even though I had food stamps and WIC. Then I no longer received WIC and not much foodstamps when I didn’t have my son anymore. I wonder what programs they have here for women infants and children and for people to afford food.
“Dad, what do you guys call here to help people afford food and helping women afford baby formula and other foods for their kids, in the USA they are called food stamps and WIC. What are they called here?” I asked.
“Natalie, here in the United Kingdom, things are different here. We all have a different attitude about the poor so we all contribute to it through paying taxes. What people get is called National Insurance.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s what they give people like houses and furniture and money for food and money to help them find work. They also have housing benefits and it pays their bills and rent. It’s all different here than over there.”
“I am so glad I came here,” I said. “This place seems better than my own country.”
“No guns and crazy lawsuits,” said Dad.
“No crappy healthcare,” I added.
“No school shootings, think about that.”
“Yeah,” I said. “No one is allowed to have a gun so there won’t be any school shootings,” I said.
“Uh people can have guns but it’s more restricted who can have them,” said Dad. “In the US, anyone is allowed to own one. I will quote Michael Moore, “Guns don’t kill people, people do.” The problem is they don’t have any restrictions who can have one so stupid people have them and they misuse them or their kids get to them because they don’t keep them locked away.”
“I wish we had that law there,” I said.
“Well it’s in their constitution to have firearm,” said Dad. “So they can’t outlaw it or restrict it.”
“So who here can have them?” I asked.
“For one, if you want to own firearm, you have to have a very good reason why you want to. Two, it has to be kept locked away when not in use. Three, you have to past the test for it first and they come and inspect your house to see if you are the one to own a gun and four, you cannot have any convicted crimes or been in trouble with the law.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s very strict for owning firearm. In fact we have the toughest gun laws in the world and it’s very hard to own a gun.”
I finished my food and went back to my game. Dad kept on eating. “Did you have enough to eat?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said.
I kept playing and the waiter came by again.
He filled our glasses again.
“The name of this place makes me think of the Mario Brothers,” I said.
“Really,” said the waiter. “That is what we intended because they’re Italian and we were going to use the Super Mario Brothers picture as our logo but we couldn’t due to copyright.”
“Yeah you don’t want to get sued,” I said.
The waiter finished filling our glasses and left. I didn’t drink my water again. Dad finished his food and he asked for the bill. I believe we call them checks back in America.
When the bill was brought to him, Dad took out his card and set it on the table. The waiter came back and took it and then brought it back and had him sign the receipt and then we left.
“Do you need to take care of something in the loo?” Dad asked.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You know what I am talking about, I think you should take care of it so you won’t get wet.”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“You haven’t changed in what, six hours?”
“What time did we get home?” I asked.
“About nine.”
“What time is it now?”
Dad looked at his phone and said “Three fifty eight, we better head home, it’s an hour drive to Uncle Garrett’s. It’s up to you, if you leak, your problem but you better not leak all over my seat.”
We left and walked back home.
When we got closer to his flat, Dad asked me if I needed to bring anything else.
“No,” I said.
“What about nappies, you should pack more.”
We went up to his flat and Dad unlocked his door and I went inside to my room. I grabbed five more nappies and stuck them in my nappy bag. We left again and headed to his car. I got in but I had forgotten the steering wheel was on the other side because the steering wheel was on my side of the car.
“Other side,” said Dad.
I got out again and went to the passenger side.
“I did that for about a year,” said Dad.
On the way Dad told me, “Natalie, I have to warn you about your grandmother. She may not remember you so introduce yourself as Natalie, not as her granddaughter or else you won’t be able to have a normal conversation with her. She would be too focused on trying to think who you are and how you’re related and how you know her so if you don’t tell her you’re her grandchild, she won’t be over focused on that and she will be able to listen to what you’re saying.”
I remembered what Dad told me about her at the airport. “I wonder if she will wet her pants there,” I said.
“She still has bladder control, she just doesn’t know how to get to the toilet anymore so we all have to help her with that.”
“So why would you want her to wear a nappy?” I asked.
“Because we don’t always get her to it in time so it would just be there for in case she wets herself and then we wouldn’t have a big mess to clean up. Plus it’s a pain to wake her at night to get her to go. It’s just like raising a kid all over again like the days when we were potty training but this is in reverse.”
“Why not put her on a timed potty schedule?” I asked.
“We do but she just goes when she has to because she forgets. She knows when she has to go but she doesn’t know what to do with it and she doesn’t have that cognitive ability anymore to tell anyone she has to go and where to go and how to do it. That is the way babies are before they are toilet trained so we all have to teach them but with elderlies, they will never get it because their brains won’t let them because they are deteriorating while the child’s mind is developing so they are able to learn. Then once they get it and know how to do it, that is when they are potty trained and don’t need nappies anymore.”
“At least my mind isn’t going downhill but I have no control over my bladder and bowels,” I said.
“No, yours is just nerve damage, nothing to do with your mind.”
“I would hate to go without a nappy so I don’t understand why your mother would. Does she like wetting her pants or getting the furniture wet?”
“She is old so she is losing her memory and it’s scary for her,” said Dad. “She knows she is losing hers and knows she isn’t able to make it anymore so her wearing them means she is getting worse and she is weak. She started showing signs back early as 2002 and we didn’t know about it until four years ago and it got worse in the last couple of years.”
“What about your dad?”
“Maybe couple of years later.”
“I hope my cousins will be nicer to me again,” I said.
“I am sure they will,” said Dad. “You’re all older. They just didn’t understand the first time because they were kids and you’re all grown and have matured.”
The first time I can remember being here, my cousins didn’t want me around and made fun of the way I spoke and didn’t like my nappies or how I behaved but only one of them was nice to me and her name was Christina. We were friends. Now she has a little girl named Alexis who is about two now. I could remember hearing when she was pregnant and then having her baby. One of my cousin’s even said I was not a real Evans. Then I was told in 2008 I was a real Evans by the same cousin.
I looked at the scenery and I enjoyed seeing all the houses and buildings and stores. We drove away from London. Soon we were on the motorway and we drove outside of London. I got to see the country side.
“We’re driving on the wrong side of the road,” I said.
“We’re doing a British thing,” said Dad.
“I am so glad I got to move here,” I said.
“I know, having an English father who is a citizen here makes it a lot easier.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They are very strict about who can move here. You have to make lot of money to be able to live here, you have to have a professional job, not some job you can get like at fast food or in retail or cleaning or being some assistant. There is no way they would let you come if you didn’t have family here unless you are going to school or have a fiancé or getting married to someone who lives here. But do not marry someone just to become a citizen here, that is illegal.”
“So I can’t get married to a guy here,” I said.
“You can, but not for becoming a citizen, you do it because you love him and want to spend the rest of your life with him. That is okay. They just don’t want anyone marrying a random person just to get their citizenship or so they can move here.”
I looked at the lines in the road and the barrier on the side of the motorway. We passed under bridges and soon we got off and took another road.
“Geez, their new house is far away,” I said.
“Not too far,” said Dad.
“How do you like being home?”
“It’s great to be close to my family again.”
“What about your other kids?”
“I miss them but they are a phone call away and I call them sometimes, I called you, and I am flying to Chicago this May to see Brian and your Mum.”
“Do you miss her too?”
“Yeah, I still love her. It’s funny we get along better when we’re not together and she isn’t as complicated. I don’t have to take care of her is why.”
“Did you know it’s rare for a divorced couple to remain friends?” I said. “I read about it online.”
“Yes, I know most divorced couples don’t stay friends or in contact with each other unless they have kids together. But it’s rare for the parents to be friends. Your Mum and I grew apart. We were young and it’s rare for a young couple to stay married and we did pretty good staying together for twenty something years and I think we’re both happier. Sometimes people get along better when they are not in a relationship”
“Or marriage,” I added.
We were in another town and Dad drove by more houses and soon he pulled onto a street and parked in front of a house. The road was narrow and we got out and my diaper was soaking wet. I felt for leaks and I thought I felt a damp spot. We walked three houses down and we walked up to the brick-concrete house and Dad rang the doorbell.
“Can’t we just walk inside?” I asked.
“This isn’t your Mum’s family,” Dad reminded me. “You all walk in each other’s homes. We don’t. We respect our privacy.”
I heard someone come to the door and it opened and there stood my Aunt Stephanie. “Hi,” she said. “I was wondering if you were coming or not.”
“We are a little late, I know,” said Dad.
“Is this Natalia?” Aunt Stephanie asked.
“Yes she is,” said Dad.
Stephanie had her arms out and she said. “I am so glad to see you, I remember you at the funeral and I only saw you a couple times when you were a kid. I remember when you were a baby and when you were only ten.”
“I was eleven,” I corrected.
“Oh sorry, gosh you have a better memory than me.”
She hugged me and I let her do it. Then I started to pull away. I felt invaded. Aunt Stephanie let go and Dad and I went inside. I removed my shoes.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
“You want to take a bath?” Aunt Stephanie asked.
“No, she means loo, that is what people call it in America,” said Dad.
“Oh you want to go to the loo, oh it’s upstairs,” said Aunt Stephanie. “Sorry, I forgot the American term for what they call them.”
“Natalie, never say bathroom or restroom if you want to use it,” Dad told me. “If you need a bathroom, you ask for the toilets and they will know what you mean.”
I nodded and headed upstairs and went into the bathroom. It was tiny but good sized. The toilet looked different than ours and there were no bathroom cabinets. It was just a towel rack and a thing to hold toilet paper and a cabinet hung above the sink and it was just the sink itself. There was the tub and it was only a shower head that you took off you spray yourself with.
I took off my pants and socks and coat and I took out a clean Abena and wipes. I took off my wet one and got cleaned up sitting on the toilet. Then I unfolded the clean nappy and stood up and put it on. Then I got dressed again and washed my hands and put my wet nappy in my nappy bag and left the bathroom. I looked in the rooms upstairs. I saw my cousins’ rooms and my aunt and Uncle’s, the closet which they call cupboard here. There was no master bathroom. The hallway was also very narrow. This was the first time I had ever been to Uncle Garrett’s new house. I had only been to Uncle Bob’s and Uncle Lawrence’s. I had been at Garrett’s old house but they moved and live further out of London.
I went downstairs and looked around.
“Natalia,” said my cousin Skyland.
“Whoa, you have gotten big,” I said.
His voice had changed and he sounded like a guy now. He was tall as me now and he had dark brown hair and had a men’s body now and his voice had changed but he still had no facial hair or body hair.
“I will be fifteen in October,” he said.
“I remember when you were only one and when you were smaller than me and still had a little boy’s voice and a boy’s body,” I said.
“I remember you two years ago,” he said. “You still look the same.”
“Adults don’t really change in two years,” I said. “Unless they gain or lose weight or change their hair color or change the style.”
It’s always amazing how fast kids change in two years.
“Hi Natalie,” said my cousin Christina who is the same age as me.
She came over to me and gave me a hug. I saw her daughter Alexis who was only a toddler. My dad was holding her.
“How old is your baby now?” I asked Christina.
“She will be two in May,” she replied.
I also saw her husband Mark. He waved at me. He had a glass in his hand with a drink in it. I remembered to wave back and say hi.
Christina is Indian like her mother because her family immigrated to England from India and met my Uncle Bob and they got married and had kids together. The rest of my Dad’s family are English. My dad is one of the other brothers who married an American and lived over there while his brother married an Indian. Everyone else; my uncles , great aunts, great uncles, grandparents, great grandparents on my Dad’s side all married an English person or Scottish or Welsh or Irish. Both my Dad’s parents were English.
I saw Uncle Bob and Uncle Garrett and Uncle Lawrence and my Aunts Maya and June. I also saw my other cousins. But I notice not everyone was here. I didn’t see Grandma or my cousin, Anji. They were the only ones missing.
I kept looking around, I saw their kitchen and they had a dishwasher and a portable dryer too. They also had their washing machine in the kitchen. I wonder why they always have theirs in there. But I am sure to them they find it strange we have our washing machines in a separate room by the garage and sometimes we have them in the basement or in the closet or upstairs. It’s rare to find them in the kitchen but they won’t be under the kitchen counter. Plus lot of us dry our clothes than hanging them to dry and I am sure they find that weird too. We like to waste electricity but I think we are too impatient to air dry them and with a family, it will be too many clothes to hang dry. Plus we were not even allowed to have a clothes line in our yard when I was a kid because of the rules in our neighborhood.
They also had a dining room and it was right by the kitchen and they had the living room which was separate and they had another room by the dining room and right by the dining room was the sliding door that led out to the garden they call their backyard. I got done looking at the house.
“Where’s Grandma?” I asked.
“She is in the study, I will go get her,” said Aunt Stephanie.
She left to get Grandma.
“Where is Anji?” I asked Christina.
“She didn’t come,” she said. “She is busy with work and goes to school in Cambridge.”
“How far is that?” I asked.
“About little over an hour.”
“What? That isn’t far. My dad and I drove about that long to get here and we were late because of it and this is the UK so it doesn’t take long to get to places.”
“No, this isn’t the UK, this is England,” said Christina. “There is a difference.”
“But it’s in the UK,” I pointed out.
“Yes but you are in England. You don’t come to one country and call it the UK, that is wrong.”
“But that is no different than me saying I am in the USA when I am there,” I said.
“I see what you are saying but we here call it England, and when you’re in Scotland, you say you’re in Scotland, not the UK or Great Britain. Do you guys say you’re in North America?”
“No but we do say we are in the USA,” I said.
“So if I were to ask you where you are from? What do you say?”
“Uh USA,” I said.
“But what state?”
“Washington,” I said.
“Okay so you would say Washington, USA since not everyone may know where Washington is.”
“Why does it matter what I say, I mean we are in Great Britain, we are in the United Kingdom and we are in England and what county is this?”
“Hertfordshire,” said Christina.
“Okay so I say England, is anyone going to give me crap about not saying what county this is instead of country?” I asked.
“No. We only want people to say what country they are in, not say UK or Great Britain because they are not the same thing and they are not countries.”
“What are they?” I asked.
“You need to know your English history, didn’t Uncle Glen teach you? I am surprised he didn’t tell you about our history and the differences. Great Britain is the name of the island and United Kingdom is all of England, Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland. It’s very offensive here to call this the United Kingdom when you mean England.”
“You guys are so silly and sensitive,” I said. “If you come to our country and call where you are the US, we won’t take offense because you are in the US and we are in the UK so I don’t see why you guys make a fuss about it. That is like going to New York and calling it the United States and no one will take offense because it is part of the United States and you are in that country, you will mind as well call it North America because it is.”
“You Americans may have a different way of speaking but I am telling you here that is not how you say it and you will offend lot of us if you keep calling it the UK. You must confirm here. We want everyone to confirm if they wish to visit or live here. So if you want to get along, you have to say England, not UK.”
Then I saw Grandma with Aunt Stephanie. Grandma looked different than when I was a kid. She had more wrinkles and her hair had less color in it. Her pants looked dry.
“There’s Grandma, I hope she doesn’t pee anywhere,” I said.
Christina laughed and so did Dad while everyone else seemed silent.
“You must have told her about her condition,” Aunt Maya told Dad.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. “Did I tell a joke? Did I say anything mean? What is it? I was serious, not joking.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong Natalie,” said Christina.
“So why did you laugh?”
“Because it was funny, we have been having problems with her going to the loo and we can’t get her to wear any protection.”
“Just say nappy,” I said.
“Oh that reminds me, do you still wear them?”
“Yes,” I said.
“How long has it been now?”
“Seventeen years,” I said.
“That is a long time,” said Christina. “That must be over five thousand nappies you have used, maybe ten thousand or more. I am not good with math or know how many you use a day.”
“I use about three a day when I use Abena and five a day or more when I use the crappy kind Medicare covered and that is if I don’t poop a lot.”
“What’s Medicare?”
“Just health insurance for low income people,” I said. “You still have to pay for it and sometimes not. It depends and I don’t know who pays for it and when people don’t have to pay for it. We also have Medicaid and I always get those two mixed up. Whatever old people get, I don’t get that, I get the different kind and I don’t remember which one it is.”
“Can you get it treated so you wouldn’t have to wear them anymore?”
“I have nerve damage so it can’t be fixed,” I said. “I don’t want to use any catheters and pills won’t work either and I don’t want any surgeries or have anything up my ass or wear a bag on my tummy.”
“I was just curious, don’t be so uptight.”
“I know, I just wish everyone would accept it and Grandma. You even asked me last time when I was here if I was still using them.”
“It’s just that I read there was treatment for it.”
“Yes but it won’t work for me. I don’t have that kind of incontinence and I have been to doctors about it believe me,” I said.
“What did they say?”
“That it was caused by the damage to my nerves for my bowels and bladder from being in a car wreck, I tried catheters and I hated having that thing in me and it’s a pain to put in and out and I don’t have the patience and I hate wearing a bag on my leg and I still have to wear a nappy for bowel movements. I don’t like anything up my ass or want any surgery to wear a bag and I am terrified of not being able to walk and I am scared of having any other bad side-affects if I try getting it fixed and pills, no way, the bad side-affects I hate and they don’t work for me. I’ll just stick with nappies, they’re a lot easier to deal with even if it means rashes and the smell and the cleanup and having to take a bag with me everywhere and I would still like to have bladder control and bowel control but with all the bad side -affects, no way. Besides I got used to it, I think it would feel weird to not have one on.”
“Yeah I can imagine the naked feeling down there,” said Christina. “Hey where’s your son?”
“With Grandma,” I said.
“Grandma? You mean your Mum?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“He didn’t want to come eh because of this big change?”
“No, I just couldn’t handle him so he doesn’t live with me anymore.”
“Oh. Do you miss him?”
I shrugged. “Not right now.”
“Maybe you will soon.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I hardly ever miss people unless they have been gone for a very long time or when I know I won’t see them again. Some people take this personal when I haven’t missed them and I don’t know why. I didn’t miss my dad’s side because I didn’t know them well but I missed Christina because we were friends and then I had to leave her to go back home to the states. Then I got over it.
Then cousin Mayko came over and started talking to Christina. I could remember him saying I wasn’t a real Evans. That hurt. To this day I still don’t understand why he said it to me. I know it’s not because I am an American or else he would have said it to my siblings, Brian, Matthew, and Kelly.
Christina talked to Mayko forgetting she was talking to me. I hate it when people do that.
I walked around the home again looking at what they had. I felt nervous and I looked at their wallpaper and picture frames on the wall. They also had up family pictures. Then I went upstairs. They had more family portraits on the walls in the staircase. I saw my twelve year old cousin Lucas. He was in his room playing a computer game. Wasn’t sure how old he was because I didn’t know his birthday but I knew what year he was born. He and I didn’t really know each other except through photos and I had seen him once before. That is what happens when two families live overseas. Now that we lived closer, maybe we will see each other more. I don’t think he knew about my incontinence unless my Dad’s side told him. I did see my other cousin who is his sister, her name is Maizy and she was also downstairs visiting. She is grown like me.
Then I noticed people were drinking alcohol. My dad was offered some but he said he had been sober for ten years and he didn’t want to relapse from another sip.
“Natalie, you want some?” Uncle Bob asked.
“No thanks,” I said.
“You can have some Natalie,” said Dad. “You won’t turn into an alcoholic.”
“I don’t drink,” I said.
“I will just give you a little bit, you’re an Evans and this is our gene to drink,” said Uncle Bob. He poured me a glass and handed it to me. It was just a small amount he poured so he didn’t fill it halfway.
Alcoholism runs on my dad’s side of the family. My grandfather was one, so was Grandma, my dad was one and so was my Great Uncle Walt and he drowned in the bathtub ten years before Dad was born because he got drunk. But it also happened on my Mom’s side too except no one has ever died. My great grandmother was a drunk and so was my maternal grandfather and my Aunt Bridgett, Mum’s twin sister, and so was her husband. Brian could have turned to alcohol but instead he turned to drugs and I did find out he also did some drinking in his teens and when Mum discovered drugs in his room, she watched him like a hawk and always invaded his privacy to find them to make sure he wasn’t doing any. I think Dad became an alcoholic because he was exposed to it as a kid and given some to drink starting at age twelve. Then it became his primary thing, some people smoke, some do drugs and Dad’s was drinking.
I took a sip and the taste was strong. Everyone laughed. I didn’t know what was so funny. I assumed they weren’t laughing at me. It would be terrible if they were.
“What’s so funny?” I asked Dad.
“Just the look on your face,” he said.
I noticed Skyland was drinking too. He was the only minor with a drink. Everyone else was grown. I saw Alexis was eating her snack at the dining room table. Christina was sitting with her. There was also food in the kitchen and it had been made and there were paper plates out and cups.
I put my drink down and sat on the sofa in the reception room and took out my Nintendo DS. I don’t know why they call rooms that here, I think it’s their word for living room or family room.
I was playing the piano game again when Christina sat down next to me.
“How is your Mum doing?” she asked.
“Fine I guess,” I said.
“What is she up to these days?”
“She turned lesbian,” I said.
“Lesbian? You don’t turn into it, you’re born that way.”
“But she decided to get married to another woman,” I said.
“But if she did that, she was always that way and she just tried to live a straight life. Lot of gay people tried doing that. Maybe that was why they had sexual issues in their marriage.”
“My dad must have told all of you about it,” I said.
I imagined him telling his brothers and parents about his issues with sex during his marriage with Mum and how much it sucked having it with her.
“Or maybe she is bi,” I said. “I never asked if she had always liked girls. I remember when she first met Rosie, they were friends and Mum always talked about her saying how good she is and understanding and then she was saying she loves her and her wife had also been married to a guy but he was mean and abusive to her so she would never trust a guy again. But she liked her too. I don’t know if they have sex, I will never ask. I can’t imagine picturing them doing it.”
“Do they like hold hands or hug and kiss?” Christina asked.
“I have seen her rub her head and holding her hand but I have never seen them make out but they do sleep in the same bed. Plus they had a baby through a surrogate mum and my mum adopted it.”
“Really? I never knew that. Was it a boy or a girl?”
“Girl,” I said.
“Wow, old couple they are for having a child.”
“Rosie is thirteen years younger than my mum,” I said. “I hope she won’t have more, my mum is too old to be having more or else she would be in her seventies when her last kid finishes high school.”
“Yeah it’s hard raising kids when you’re older.”
I imagined my mum having more and having more siblings in the family. But they would be over twenty five years younger than me and I wouldn’t even know them and they wouldn’t know me. I already had a sister who was twenty four years younger than me. Doing the math, Mum will be seventy when Mary-Jane finishes high school.
“So when do you think you will have your son again?” Christina asked.
“Never,” I said.
“Never? What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t handle him so I was never a good mum and if I can’t handle him, I probably shouldn’t even be a parent. People say if you can’t handle a special needs child, don’t have any more kids.”
“That’s baloney. Not everyone can handle them but that doesn’t mean they can’t be parents, they just can’t handle a special needs child is all.”
“But even normal kids are work,” I said. “You have to fight for them too and I remember my brother doing drugs and drinking and Mum had to watch him closer and they fought a lot in his teens and then there was Kelly and she was work too because she was a normie and so was Brian. I am worried about having normal kids and them hating me too or fighting with me and getting depressed. My sister already hates our mum and she told me to do better than her and I feel I failed it. I bet she is happy I just gave him up because when she was little, she wanted to go somewhere else and then was shocked when they were willing to let her. Plus I was worried I would be one of those mums who kills their special needs children because of too much of a burden and all the stress they put on them.”
Christina jumped at that comment. I bet it was because she was shocked I was worried about doing it and it would have happened if I kept him. I do not handle stress well and I go crazy from too much of it.
“I think you’re being hard on yourself, all mums feel that way from time to time,” Christina assured.
“But I felt that way all the time,” I said.
“I hope you get the help you need and you won’t,” said Christina.
If only you knew, I thought. I couldn’t tell her. I felt too bad about myself. I should have had an abortion than having him.
“But he was autistic and do moms of special needs kids feel this way all the time?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I never had that experience. But I can see how stressful it be so I can imagine they must feel that way more often than most mums but I don’t think you would have ended up killing him.”
“But I can’t handle stress well and I do go crazy when pushed over the edge so I can imagine myself doing it,” I said.
If only she knew. I wanted to say more but then she might hate me and so would the rest of my Dad’s family. If I killed my son, then I would have to kill myself too so I won’t go to jail and be seen as a killer by everyone and face all the hate. All those parents should leave their families or hand their special needs child to the state or let someone else take their child and take care of it for them instead of killing them and that is what I did. Now how am I going to tell people I have children and explain to them why I don’t have my kid living at home with me? He died or he lives with his Dad but those would be lies. His dad isn’t in his life. He abandoned him and never wanted to be a dad. Now I had left him but at least I tried. He never did. I left his dad when I was seven months pregnant because he was mean to me and a jerk. But he never wanted to be part of our son’s life. He didn’t even want to see him. I went back to my Dads who was still living in Saltwater, Washington at the time and Mum had already moved out and was living in her own apartment in town. Then she met Rosie and she took over helping her like with groceries and bills and with planning. Without any help, her apartment would be a disaster and no bills would be paid and she wouldn’t have food. It was like she couldn’t function by herself. Now I know it was all due to executive functioning issues and she needed a routine to clean her apartment and to get groceries and she has notes up to remind her of important things. She also couldn’t schedule her own appointments or anyone else’s. Dad always did those things. I never realized how bad Mum was until she was on her own and she would get upset of any of us came to her home unexpected and she was into her hobby again and spent all her time doing it neglecting everything else like her kids and her chores and eating. Since we all lived with Dad and he had full custody of us, she stopped answering her phone. That was what Dad was worried about, he worried if he left her, she would regress and he told me that was how she was when they first met. Without her kids and husband, there was nothing for her to function so she slipped into her special interest and it got out of control and it was all she wanted to do. Then she met Rosie and Mum got better again. She will never function well on her own. Not without another adult with her or some assistant. Then she was normal again, Mum normal, that’s what I call it since she isn’t normal so she has her own normal. In 2002, she was diagnosed with moderate-severe Asperger’s and then she was seeing another doctor and he said she had high functioning autism because of her medical history and the ongoing support she needs to function and he was impressed what she had done with her life despite failed employments and what her issues are and said she was mild. What’s funny is when she was eight, a teacher thought she may be autistic and Grandma Del ignored it and never took her to a doctor for it. I guess she didn’t want two autistic kids. Her son already had it so she didn’t need her daughter having it too. When I was six, my teacher thought I had autistic traits and my parents also dismissed it and didn’t get it checked out. It was the early nineties so the whole autism spectrum didn’t even exist and back then autism meant non-verbal, rocking in the corner all hours of the day, none stop flapping, shrieking, no appropriate play with toys, no connection to people, that was my parents mindset on what autism was and I was none of that. Then when I was seven, I got in a car accident which caused my incontinence and it brought out more traits and made them stronger and another doctor thought I had it and my parents dismissed it again. I had a head injury so they stopped taking me to that doctor. Then when I was in seventh grade, Asperger’s was brought up and this time they didn’t ignore it. It was the first time they ever heard it and learned about the whole spectrum. Then when I was sixteen, another doctor I saw said I had PDD-NOS but he never gave me the official label because it was never written on paper so my official label is still Asperger’s. I could blame my Mum on it but I don’t. I could blame my behavior on her too but I don’t or else Kelly and Brian would have it too so I know mine isn’t learned behavior like Dad claimed. Sometimes parents like to blame their kids autism on other things like on the environment and mine blamed mine on brain damage or my dad blaming it on my mother or on other kids and some parents will blame it on their kids autism and say their other children modeled it or their parents behavior who also have it and many parents have blamed it on vaccines. I have also seen it blamed on seizures, brain damage at birth, born premature, ear infections and hearing loss, child abuse and neglect, and Aunt Elizabeth said it’s just a label and they need a diagnoses to get the help they need and if it gets them the proper help, that is what it’s for. I never blamed anything on my son’s autism except that it’s genetic because it runs in my family and his dad had it too.
I could say I put my son up for an adoption but that would be a lie too. I could say my relatives and Mum wanted him out of my care but then what would they think? Or I could pretend I never had him so no one will know I have a child but that would also be a lie too and just as long as I never talk about him or mention him and if no one ever asks if I have kids, it won’t be lying. It would be like he doesn’t even exist.
But I was facing a problem; Aunt Mayo asked where my kid is.
“He isn’t here yet,” Christina replied.
“Oh, yeah, moving house is tough and I am sure moving overseas is harder so you probably want to get settled here first before you have your kid come here,” said Aunt Mayo. “Your father would love having his grandson nearby and he will help you when you ever need it.”
“I don’t think he will ever be here,” I said.
“Oh nonsense, of course he will, you don’t mean it,” said Christina.
“What’s wrong?” Aunt Mayo asked.
“She thinks she can’t be a good mum,” Christina replied.
“Oh that’s ridiculous, of course you will, lot of us feel that way,” said Aunt Mayo. “You will do fine.”
I didn’t say anything else. I felt like I was being dishonest already by letting them think I left him behind until I get settled here. If I had the ability to see into the future, I may have had an abortion or never have sex at all. My ex-boyfriend didn’t like to use condoms and I thought I was protected with birth control pills even though I knew there was still a chance I would get pregnant but I knew the chances were slim but it still happened.
“Natalia, do you want some food?” Uncle Garrett asked.
“No I’m fine,” I said.
It felt like I had just eaten even though it had been three hours. Christina had some chips and dip.
Dad was also eating. Aunt Mayo went back to visiting my other relatives. I saw Grandma sitting in a chair and there was Lucas talking to his brother and making funny faces to Alexis. Dad was talking to his Mum and so was Aunt June. Grandma was laughing and smiling. Despite her disease she could still have a good time as if she knows what’s going on. Then Dad and her stood up and they walked over to me. He had his hand over her shoulder and held her hand.
“I want you to meet our new friend,” said Dad as they were walking towards me.
“Who is this pretty lady here?” Grandma asked looking at me.
“This is Natalie, our new friend,” said Dad when they got to me.
I remembered what Dad told me in the car.
“Hi,” I said.
I remembered to not call her Grandma or she might wonder why I called her that and get all confused and not be able to have a normal conversation anymore. She didn’t remember me so I didn’t have to worry about what she would say about my nappies. She probably didn’t remember my medical condition either. I wonder what she would still think of it if she knew. I waited for Dad to tell me to tell her about it so she would wear nappies.
“Natalie, it’s nice to meet you,” Grandma said cheerfully taking my hand and shaking it. “You are very beautiful young lady.”
“Say thank you,” Dad reminded me.
“Thanks,” I said looking down.
“She is shy,” said Dad. “She just met you.”
“This nice man was telling me about your country,” she said. “Tell me where you lived.”
“Washington, USA,” I said.
“Oh, the president.”
“No, the state, not DC,” I said.
Grandma had a look on her face and was moving her head.
“There are two Washingtons,” Dad told her.
Grandma stared at him.
“Washington DC is where the president lives and there is the state and it’s called Washington and it’s on the west coast and it’s right under Canada,” Dad explained.
“Oh, I didn’t know he lived on the West Coast,” said Grandma.
“No, Washington is the-“ I started saying but Dad interrupted saying. “Yes he has a home on the West Coast and lives close to Canada.”
“What?” I asked confused.
Dad got in my face and whispered. “She has Alzheimer’s so she isn’t going to understand and another part of her condition is she gets confused so it’s best to go along with it. Trying to correct her will confuse her more and then she will get upset.”
“She was just joking, Lorraine,” Dad told her. “Forget what she was going to say.”
Grandma looked at him and her mouth was open and she was just staring. “And didn’t you guys hang your president?” she asked.
“No,” I said.
“I think you are thinking of Hussain,” said Dad. “Bush’s time as president ended so it was someone else’s turn,” said Dad.
“Oh, I get my facts all mixed up,” she said. “My brain does that. Now who is the president?”
“Obama,” I said.
“Barack Obama,” said Dad.
“Our first black president,” I said. “We have always had white presidents. I remember this joke online, is The White House called The Black House now.”
“Natalia, that isn’t a nice joke,” sad Dad. “It’s racist.”
“I don’t understand why,” I said. “It’s a literal joke.”
“It’s describing skin color. Just don’t tell it or it will get you into trouble.”
Then Dad started telling Grandma I didn’t understand and I didn’t mean it. I got it from the internet and I didn’t know it was racist. I already knew it was because I was told but I don’t understand why it’s racist and racism flies over my head because I don’t see it or understand it.
Bush is white, Obama is black and The White House is painted white and it matches the president color. I see no racism. No one is being hated or discriminated for their skin color.
Grandma didn’t seem like the same Grandma I knew. Her personality was all different and her memory was faded and she couldn’t even keep track of things that went on in life or even understand the difference between Washington DC and Washington State, most people would get it after you explain it. Grandma didn’t know the state existed and she had forgotten about it but she knew of DC so she thought it was DC. Now she thought it was on the West Coast right by Canada. So this was what Alzheimer’s is.
“So Obama lives near Canada now?” I asked Dad.
“Natalie, come with me for a sec,” said Dad. “We’ll be right back, we need to have a private talk,” he told his mum.
I got up and he took me to the other side of the room and said, “I only said that because she was confused and didn’t understand and you trying to explain the state and Washington DC would have upset her. Obama does not live in Washington State. If she doesn’t understand something, don’t try and explain it to her to make her get it.”
“Why would it upset her?” I asked.
“Because she is senile and will get upset because she isn’t getting it. She gets frustrated like you would get frustrated when you didn’t understand school assignments.”
“So we lie to her now?” I asked.
“It’s not lying, it’s just going along with it because there is no point in trying to explain something to her. So we just go with what she thinks and she will then forget about it. She won’t remember.”
“So we can say whatever we want to her and she won’t remember?”
“That’s right. You can talk about the same topic over and over and she won’t get tired of it. So you can talk to her about what you like now and she won’t get bored. That is a good thing for you.”
“I don’t like talking to someone who can’t even remember,” I said.
“But you’d get to talk about the same things over and over. Just think about it. She won’t tell you to shut up or ask you to talk about something else like we used to do.”
“I don’t like talking about my obsessions anymore,” I said.
“You can now.”
“After learning to not do it, I can’t get myself to do it again.”
“That’s a bummer.”
He then went back to his Mum.
I just played my game keeping my mind off the past. Grandma had forgotten about me because she didn’t seem to care I didn’t go back to her. It got too loud for me so I went upstairs and sat in Aunt Stephanie’s and Uncle Garrett’s room where it was quiet. They had a TV in here so I turned it on. I channel surfed. I saw the news was on one of the BBC channels. I was curious about the local news here. Then the next headline came on. “Mother burns three year old child with boiling water for a punishment.” I felt disturbed by that. They talked about it and it showed the snapshot of the mother and she looked young but maybe a little older. They said she got frustrated with him so she threw boiling water at him and he had to go to the hospital and got third degree burns. I wanted to judge the mother and think of her as bad but I felt it would make me a hypocrite. Now she was facing charges. I couldn’t imagine doing that to my own son but I was scared I could have done it if I was boiling water. I wondered what the three year old did to make the mother want to do it. I never thought I would get thoughts about harming my own child but they were always there when I became a parent. Now I can understand why people abuse their kids. They just don’t have good self-control. But at least I am not the one who ever threw boiling water on their child so I was still in the position to hate the mum because that thought never crossed my mind to do it. I wonder if it ever crossed that mum’s mind to do it or was it done spontaneously. I felt better about myself knowing I never did that and never would.
I turned the channel and looked on other channels and they had some American channels like Comedy Central, VH1, Disney, Nickelodeon, HBO, FOX, MTV, Animal Planet, Discovery channel, TLC, they actually had lot of our channels I would find in the USA. I felt like at home again.
I saw more family pictures in their room and this time it was more of their children from when they were little. I noticed they had a picture of us with them from fourteen years ago when we visited here. Skyland was just a baby in there and Aunt Stephanie was holding him. Maizy was also in the picture and so were the rest of my cousins, Mayko, Christina, Anji, Bradley, and Ross. The rest of my Uncles were in there and so was my Dad and Mum and my Aunts. Lucas wasn’t in there because he hadn’t been born yet. Dad is the only one who ever divorced and he hadn’t remarried yet. I imagined him meeting another woman and marrying her and I have step siblings and there is more kids added to the family. I was surprised they would even have some pictures of us. I guess my Dad sent them some of us when we were little so they’d have pictures of us to show everyone and their children so they would know us. I wish we did come here more often and visit but it was always too expensive so we never flew here. I wonder why he didn’t just save up to bring his whole family to visit. I know other families tend to fly to their home country to see their families and mine never did. Instead he only went alone.
I watched Zoey 101 on Nick. Here I was watching American shows instead of British shows. But people here like to be Americans too because they also got their channels and restaurants and movies and TV shows so I could still be an American. I watched another show on the same channel and then Uncle Lawrence was looking for me and said, “She is in here Glen.”
Dad came in the bedroom. “There you are, we were wondering where you ran off too. Aren’t you going to visit your whole family?”
“I already saw them,” I said.
“But you’re all in here isolated and you were looking forward to coming here and you run off in here instead.”
“I needed quiet,” I said. “If they want to see me, they can come in here.”
“Okay. Everyone is going to leave soon just so you know.”
Dad got up and left. I was alone again.
I heard a little commotion downstairs about my grandmother but I didn’t care to find out. I would ask later. Then Christina came in the bedroom and told me she and her husband were going home now and she came to say bye.
I just nodded and said, “Okay.”
“I hope to see you again,” she said.
“Okay,” I said putting a smile on my face.
“We had a very nice visit, I hope we can do it again and you can tell me more about your country and your life over there. I only know about it through movies and from pictures.”
“Okay,” I said again.
“Can I give you a hug?”
I nodded.
Christina put her arms around me and said “Cheerio.”
Then she let go and left. I went back to watching TV. I was glad the hug was quick. If she did it any longer, I would have started to pull away. For some reason I just don’t like them and I want to get away after a few seconds.
Soon Dad got me and said we were heading home now. I turned the TV off and grabbed my diaper bag and headed back downstairs. I started putting on my shoes.
“Natalie,” said Dad. “They’re saying bye.”
I looked up and I noticed Skyland was waving at me and so was Maizy and Lucas. I noticed Grandma was already gone and Aunt June and Uncle Lawrence were leaving too with their two children Ross and Bradley. I didn’t know where Mayko was but I assumed he already left.
I finished putting my shoes on and Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Garrett said bye to me again and said cheerio. Uncle Garrett said it was great seeing me again and having me come live here.
He and my Dad look lot alike but I can still easily tell them apart.
I wondered why my relatives were happy to have me here but they were not happy about my mother.
“You guys do an American thing too like my Dad, drying clothes,” I said.
Dad, Aunt Stephanie and Uncle Garrett all laughed.
“Sweetie, I was just joking back at home about it being an American culture,” said Dad. “Of course we dry our clothes here but it’s more common to air dry.”
I felt stupid. I wondered if I was being laughed at or with and if it was wrong what I said.
“I told her I adopted their American culture of drying clothes because she saw my small dryer,” Dad explained.
“Was it wrong what I asked?” I asked.
“No, not at all,” said Uncle Garrett.
“So why did you laugh?”
“We just thought it was funny, lot of people think we don’t dry our clothes. It’s just more energy efficient to air dry.”
“How come?”
“It doesn’t cost anything to air dry so we do it. It’s more expensive to use a dryer but we use one because we have a whole family living here so that is a lot of linen but when it’s nice out, we air dry,” said Aunt Stephanie.
I just nodded and stepped out the door. I just walked down the street to my Dad’s car. Dad caught up to me and took out his keys. “The other side,” he said.
I walked back around to the other side and Dad unlocked the car and I got in. I was on the passenger side where the steering wheel would be in the US. Dad got in on the driver’s side.
“Don’t worry I did the same, I would get on the driver’s side despite the sidewalk being on the same side only to realize the steering wheel was on this side,” said Dad. “Just remember, the steering wheel is never on the same side as the sidewalk just like back in the states.”
“I think I would be too terrified to drive here, I might drive on the wrong side of the road forgetting we drive on the opposite side,” I said.
“I don’t think you will ever do that,” said Dad.
“Did you do that in the states when you first started driving there?” I asked.
“No,” said Dad.
“Why not?”
“Because the cars were driving on the opposite side and parked on the other side so I knew what side to drive on.”
“What about getting on your side of the car thinking that is where the steering wheel is?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I had never driven here until I moved back. I got my first license back in the states so I was used to driving over there and on the other side. The driving rules are different here than they are back in the states.”
“What can you do here you can’t do back in the US?” I asked.
“Here you cannot undertake.”
“What’s that?”
“If a car is driving slower than the speed limit, you cannot pass them and then get back in your lane, it’s illegal.”
“That sucks,” I said. “That just slows traffic down.”
“Actually, it slows traffic down when people try and pass. That is why traffic would get so backed up during rush hour, everyone is switching lanes and trying to pass each other than trying to get off.”
“So you think traffic would go quicker in rush hour if no one tried switching lanes except for getting off?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” said Dad.
He told me more about traffic laws here and how you can hug cars as you pass but in the states it would be illegal but you can only do it here where there are arrows on the road pointing to the center. On the motorway, Dad did it to another car just to show me. He drove between two cars. I laughed and felt excitement. Back in the states this would be illegal and I had seen people do it before over there and my mum would always scream “asshole” and get mad because they were breaking the law and doing something dangerous. Dad didn’t like it either when someone would do that but he always handled it better and maybe it was because he was from here so he was used to that. I wonder if all those bad drivers were Brits and they were not aware of the law. I always thought they were impatient so they were going fast and driving between cars to get somewhere faster and Dad had always told us going fast doesn’t get you anywhere. Even Mum said the same and she would refuse to go in a lane where cars were moving faster. Then one day she finally listened and then she showed me a car that was in the slower lane and said how it had caught up to us and said “told you going fast doesn’t get you anywhere.” Now I find it hilarious when someone tries to go fast and I catch up to them. I don’t get mad if they are breaking the traffic law, I just laugh at their stupidity.
Then I asked Dad about the commotion I heard downstairs at Uncle Garrett’s with Grandma and what was that about.
“Oh she was pulling down her pants and we stopped her and brought her to the loo,” said Dad.
“Where was she about to go?”
“In the dining room on the chair, she got confused.”
I thought it was weird she was about to pee on a chair thinking it was the toilet. Old people do strange things and I always thought it was in movies but I was now seeing where they got that from.
“I am surprised they are all nice to me,” I said.
“Why?” Dad asked. “They’re your family.”
“But they didn’t like Mum,” I said.
“She wasn’t related to them and she was an adult.”
“So am I,” I said.
“Yes but you’re family. They never saw Mum as family because she didn’t have our blood, our gene.”
“So they only like people who are different if they are their nephew or niece or grandchild,” I said.
“Basically,” said Dad. “Besides you’re older so you are more mature and have grown up a bit and you aren’t so impulsive like you used to be and as hyper and you can control your emotions better.”
“I still get upset and start crying and I feel like throwing things and I have all these feelings inside of me,” I said.
“You still get your moments.”
I wondered if they would still like me if I hadn’t changed and I was still the same as I was when I was eleven.
It was dark out and pitch black and we arrived back in London. Dad took a different route this time and I didn’t care. I liked seeing all the buildings and the country side. We arrived at his flat and got out of his car. I headed up to his residence. Dad climbed up the steps behind me and took out his keys and unlocked the door and turned on the light. I went in my bedroom and grabbed my supplies for my shower, razor blade and tweezers and shampoo, pajamas.
“I am going to take a shower,” I told Dad.
“Okay,” he said. “Don’t take a long one.”
I headed into the bathroom but Dad said, “Natalie, stop, let me take a whiz first. I don’t have a nappy on so I can’t go whenever I want.” I let him go in the bathroom and I waited. I heard him go and toilet flushing and hands being washed. Then he stepped out and told me, “it’s all yours.”
I went in and closed the door and took off all my clothes. I slowly took off my nappy and set it on top of the toilet to put on later. I wasn’t going to waste a nappy if it could hold more. Then I realized I had cloth so I could use those here but too late now. I wasn’t going to run out and grab one and risk making a mess if I have an accident. I tuned the water on and started the shower head and got in. I drew the curtain and grabbed the soap my Dad had and used it to shave myself. Then I washed my hair and then turned the water off and plucked my pubic air in the tub. I squeezed some hair out of my skin the razor and pulled out the hairs that were sticking out of my skin the razor also didn’t reach. I did pee as I did this and it ran down my legs and hit the bottom of the tub and it went down the drain.
After I got done plucking, I rinsed the pee off my legs and dried off again and grabbed my used diaper and put it back on again. I wasn’t sure if I should keep wearing it or change into a cloth one. I put my pajamas on and left the bathroom with my clothes and towel around my head. I went in the bedroom and wrote in my diary. Since I couldn’t use my computer, I had to write. I wrote and wrote. I accidentally forgot to put in some details but I figured I can add that later when I write it on the computer. I love typing than writing. I can go back and edit and put in stuff I forgot to add and my hand will never get sore. But my knuckles do sometimes get crampy from typing but that doesn’t happen often. I had the lamp on and I was sitting on my bed leaning against the wall writing. Then I remembered something, rubber sheets. But I would do that after I am done with my diary. I am not sure how long I wrote for but it was a good two hours. I had to write about everything. Why can’t I write a short entry? Maybe I should have only written about my grandmother or about my Dad’s family or about my plane ride or about arriving here but I had to write about everything. Or maybe I should have stuck with my feelings only and thoughts.
I put the rubber sheets on my bed when I was done. Then I had to remake it again. I put the mattress cover over it and then the sheet. Then I was done and I laid back in bed again with my stuffed animal. I grabbed my pacifier and put it in my mouth. I had it clipped to my shirt and I turned the light off. My first night in London.
Chapter 2
I woke up in the middle of the night in a very wet nappy. I felt for leaks. I somehow had leaked and my nappy also smelled like urine. Abenas are not supposed to leak but sometimes they do. But they are still good nappies because they hold a bunch and when I do a long pee but most of the times they are small ones. I got out of bed and changed. I didn’t like doing this because I had to get out of bed and get undressed and take off my nappy and clean up and risk any accidents. Everyone else can just get up and either lift their night shirt or pull down their trousers and go in the toilet and then they are done and they can go back to bed. I got out a cloth nappy and plastic pants and started to change. I stood on the wooden floor part. I had some nappy pins and I pinned the nappy on and put on the plastic pants and rolled up my Abena and left it on the floor. I put my other pajamas on and grabbed a clean towel and put it on my bed over the wet spot. I went back to sleep again.
I woke up again later with Dad up. I could hear him out in the living room/kitchen. The TV was on. I just stayed in bed still tired. The sun was up and I saw light in my room. My pacifier had fallen out of my mouth. I had forgotten about it until I saw the clip on me and it on my bed. I felt myself wet again. I smelled like pee again under the covers so I knew I was already wet. My accident ended and I just lied here and the nappy felt wetter. The thought of peeing in my bed felt exciting. I imagined my guy coming in here and changing my nappy before taking me out in the kitchen for breakfast and he puts me in the high chair. He puts cartoons on for me. Then he puts a bib on me and gives me my food.
I desired for a daddy. I didn’t want my real dad babying me, that felt too creepy and weird. I didn’t want a mommy either, that also felt too weird. I had been meeting AB/DL men over the years and having them change my nappy and give me a bottle or feed me and read to me or just hanging out. Not all of them want to change a messy nappy and that is okay. I know they are just not for me. I don’t want to be a baby 24/7 because I like my freedom and doing the computer and watching TV shows like Zoey 101 or iCarly or Suite Life of Zach and Cody and I like to play video games. I am mostly into computer now but I play my Nintendo DS. I haven’t changed much since high school except I know more and my social skills have gotten better because of it thanks to internet. I think I have grown up a lot. I was looking forward to meeting more AB/DL guys here and having some nappy fun. I like changing their nappies too. Doing all this makes me feel so normal and good about myself and how great my social skills are now because all these men like me and accept me and I haven’t goofed up. They’re all nice to me and don’t accuse me of anything or try and trick me like kids used to do back when I was a kid. Thank god for AB/DL because I can find acceptance for my medical condition. I could find the same in none AB/DL guys but it’s easier when they are AB/DL so it’s not so embarrassing and having to risk losing them when I have to tell them. Plus they will baby me and there are lot of guys out there that want a baby girl and I get PMs about it but I wish they would be from the local guys only. I had been talking to some from here because I knew I would be coming here soon so I only wanted daddies from the London area and from the Seattle area. I didn’t mind guys from Portland or from Bellingham since it was only a few hour drive and I took Yakamites. That is a nickname for people who live in Yakima, Washington. Mum and Rosie became Yakamites. I hate that area because it’s too dry and the city is small out in the middle of nowhere and they all irrigate around there. I could remember in one of the iCarly episodes, the grandfather felt Spencer, his grandson, wasn’t responsible enough to take care of Carly, his little sister, so he comes to Seattle to get her and Carly and her friends make jokes about the name and saying how she will be a Yakamite and at the end her grandfather decides her brother is responsible and lets her stay. Alex had shifted from Grandma Del, Aunt Elizabeth and her husband, and then Mum and Rosie. Aunt was too busy with her job still and Grandma Del said she was too old to be taking care of a kid 24/7 so Mum took over since she liked being a Grandma and he was her grandson. He was taken out of my care when he was two so I only saw him on my own terms and I was there on his birthdays and for the holidays. It was like that iCarly episode except the brother was trying to do what he could to keep his Grandpa from taking her.
I took anyone who was within two or three hours from Seattle. I am also lucky to be a woman because it’s so easy finding men into this. I don’t see many women available and lot of them don’t want AB/DL guys. There are some creepy ones but the ones I met aren’t at all. I am hoping to find the right guy.
I got up soon and changed out of my wet nappy. I wiped myself standing over it and then I grabbed another clean pair and put it on. I put the plastic pants back on and carried my wet nappy in the kitchen and stuck it in the washing machine. Dad saw me up and he saw me in my nappy and plastic pants and shirt. I went back in my room and put my pants back on. I wondered how much I weighed. I didn’t even weight myself yesterday to see how much weight I gained or none or if I lost a pound or a few ounces. I went in the bathroom and took everything off including my nappy. I stood on the scale. Unsatisfied, I got off and got dressed again. I went back in my room and lied back down. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Back at home I would normally get up and watch some TV but this time Dad was watching it and working and he had a little work area. Just a desk with some drawers and a shelf next to it with his papers and stuff. These days people don’t need lot of work space, only their laptop and some papers because everything is on the computer. I was sure they didn’t have the same TV schedule here as they do back in the states and Dad didn’t have a TIVO. I also doubt they had Dr. Phil. That is Mum’s show and I started watching it and I like hearing all the drama people air on TV with their dirty laundry.
My tummy grumbled. I just lied here anxious knowing it might be a boring day. How would I meet Steven with no computer? I couldn't use mine due to different electrical outlets and I wasn't sure if I could use the adapter because the computer may be more powerful than a regular electrical device.
I put my pacifier back in my mouth and peed in my nappy again. Here I was a twenty five year old woman with a pacifier in her mouth living with her Dad and still peeing in nappies and soiling them. Hopefully I will be on my own again. Everyone just wanted me here in his flat when I wanted to move here. But it’s no different when a family or a person moves and they stay with a friend or with a parent or brother or sister when they move. Why pay for a hotel before finding a place to rent when you can stay with someone for free?
I may like being an adult baby and wanting a daddy but that doesn’t mean I want to live with my Dad for the rest of my life or be unemployed. Even if it means living in a flat or home owned by someone in my Dad’s family would still be good enough. I lived in Aunt Elizabeth’s and Uncle Tom’s basement of their home which they had converted into a flat so they could rent it and then they offered it to me when it was vacant and charged me cheaper rent. But instead my son destroyed it and I didn’t do a good enough job to protect it. He smeared anything on walls and left dents in walls and I put locked on everything to keep him out so he couldn’t make a mess and ruin my stuff and he liked taking everything out of cupboards and he liked to play with the light switches so I took out all the bulbs because the flicker bothered my eyes. Plus he liked to peel so he peeled wallpaper Aunt Elizabeth had up. She was very understanding and said she was expecting it anyway. Trying to stop him would result in a bad meltdown and then it was hell dealing with it so I found solutions. I also used ear plugs to block out his shrieking and annoying sounds he made. I also would lock him in our bedroom and close the door so I could have a break from him. Aunt Elizabeth told me I should have seen my mother at his age because she was a lot worse and if she grew up and had children and drove a car and got married and lived on her own, Alex had a chance at that too but the only way for that to possibly happen was to get him intervention and he won’t do it on his own without any help. Apparently either I took it all literal that autistic kids needed to be accepted and not change them or those autistic people were full of it and wanted an excuse and not get better. So now he is getting help so he could live a normal life and be independent even if it means talking and living in a group home or still living at home and working a part time job. Or he could end up going to college and getting a degree and maybe get married and have his own children but you can never set your goals too low. Here I was with no college degree and I can’t even get a high pay job due to lack of work experience and no college degree. If I didn’t have any brain damage or a learning disability I may be doing more with my life and be more independent and not need any stupid SSI. I can still get it while living here because I am an American citizen. Not that Social Security is stupid, I just don’t like being on it and without it, I would be struggling due to no money and having a disability sucks. It may mean free money (nothing is free technically) but you don’t get much from them. I wish I could do more with my life but I can’t. But everyone acts like how well I have done and how good my life is. They all act like it’s a miracle as if someone like me can’t make it on their own or live on their own but plenty of people with disabilities do this. I wonder if they get the same reaction too. It’s as if there was no way I could have gotten this all but I did. What I don’t like is when people make a bigger deal out of things I do or have in my life such as my own place or having a son or driving a car but yet don’t make that big of deal for others. Mum got the same too and my little brother gets it too. I guess people act all shocked and make a big deal out of people with disabilities being independent or doing normal things is because they are expected to not do them. At least no one praises me or gets all excited when I shake someone’s hand or when I change my nappy. But yet when I got my driver’s license, my old school mates from my old school acted shocked when they saw me driving, same as kids in the neighborhood. Now let’s start my day shall we.
I got out of bed and tucked my pacifier behind my shirt. I went out in the living room/kitchen. Dad was still working and he was drinking tea or coffee. I had a bowl of cereal. I just stood and ate. I was used to this ritual so I didn’t think to sit and eat. I drank the remaining milk from the bowl and stuck it in the sink.
“I’m bored, what shall I do?” I said.
“Well you can get changed and dressed for one,” said Dad. “Then we’ll talk.”
“About what?”
“About some ground rules, why don’t you get dressed or you can just lounge in your PJs.”
I just sat down. “I will just stay in my pajamas for now,” I said.
Dad got off his computer. “Okay, here are the ground rules.”
He sat down on the sofa with me. “You wanted to come live in England and I am nice to let you stay with me because I love you and I’m your Dad so I am here to help. However here are the rules for living with me; you will do your own laundry, take out your own nappies, clean up after yourself and wipe crumbs off the counter, any food you want to get you can buy with your own money but I will still grocery shop whenever we need more food. I know you don’t get much money from Social Security so that is why I am going to be helping you out. I will help with the nappy cost and the food. I will only charge you fifty pounds in rent so whatever American dollars will convert into fifty pounds will be how much you pay. That way the rent will include the utilities and the food and paying for the TV license. I will help you with transportation cost. London is expensive and you don’t get much from Social Security. But you will be in charge of your own entertainment. Sometimes I will treat you if I ever take you out. Also you will not bring any strange guys to my flat.”
I felt disappointed. No baby play here without Dad.
“Are you still having any changing your nappy?” Dad asked.
I felt embarrassed so I had a hard time answering it.
“You need to stop that. It’s not very safe and you don’t know these guys. Remember what happened last time you were here, the party you went to?”
I remembered. I went to some party a group was having and I went there with a guy I met from online from Diapermates and some men there gave me drinks and kept making me drink and then I got drunk and they kept making me drink more and then they were about to have sex with me when Dad decided to show up and kicked those men off me before they could do it and he brought me home and I was so drunk I couldn’t even change myself so he had to do it. I feel so embarrassed about it and how stupid I was. I never told anyone about it, not even online. It’s too embarrassing.
“I was stupid and I know now not to drink so much when I am there,” I said. “I need to be tougher at not giving in.”
“Natalie, you’re very vulnerable. People will try and take advantage of you because you’re trusting, you have that innocent personality,” said Dad. “You can get into serious trouble and you almost harmed your son and nearly got raped once. You will not bring any guys here to my flat and I want you to be safe, not go out and chase guys and having them change your nappy and wiping your bottom.”
“I’m an adult,” I said.
“So act like it. You make some bad choices and why do you think your Mum and her family let you move here? I am here and so is my family so they know we will be helping you. You nearly killed your son because some guy told you it was a great idea to give him chloroform to knock him out and he told you he used it all the time when he couldn’t sleep. Then you worked as a stripper, you have already been in two abusive relationships and your first one forced you to have sex without a condom so you got pregnant and had Alex and now you are a single Mum.”
“Lot of women are single mums,” I said in defense. “What’s wrong with being a stripper and dancing in front of men and women at a strip bar?” I asked.
“Natalia, you know what I mean. If you want to live here, you have to follow some rules and I just gave you them. No meeting strange guys and having them wipe your bottom and changing your dirty nappy and no bringing them here. I don’t want them here. That is the most important rule I have.”
“Why?” I asked. “Can’t they come here with you here?”
“No, how do I know they won’t take anything, I am not going to babysit them.”
“Then I will,” I said.
“No, I am not comfortable with them here, my house, my rules. Respect them or I will send you back home and your Mum and her family can deal you. I will help you get settled here and if you brought Alex here, I would also help you with him. When he does come, I will help you with him.”
“But I almost killed him,” I said. “I don’t know who to listen to.”
“If you are not sure of the information, just look it up or ask me,” said Dad.
“But how would I know it’s the wrong information?” I asked.
“Just come to me,” said Dad. “Before you do anything, ask me first. Now you won’t be making any big mistakes you will regret.”
I felt all incompetent and not normal anymore. I had to hear what was wrong with me. I was surprised Dad knew about my personal life. How did he know I had another bad relationship? How did he know I worked at a strip bar?
“I am not telling you all this to make you feel bad,” said Dad as if he read my mind. “I love you and want nothing bad happening to you so you must look after yourself. I know I can’t keep you locked in here from the real world. You just make some poor choices is all so I am trying to help. You just need some guidance. At least you’re not doing drugs or alcohol, that’s a relief.”
Dad rubbed my shoulder and patted my back but I pulled away and he stopped.
“At least I am not having sex with a bunch of guys,” I said.
“But you’re letting them touch you down there and do you know how dangerous that is? They can rape you.”
“That is what Mum said,” I said.
“Yes, she knows that too. You have had her worried and then trying to knock Alex out was the last straw.”
“How do you know about my life?” I asked.
“I’m your father so I have my ways.”
“How?” I asked.
“You want to know how I know these things, I have email. You don’t think your Mum and I still talk sometimes? She told me before you came here so I told her I will take care of everything. We may be divorced but we are still in our lives because we have children together and you also put your life on the internet, I read your posts on Myspace. I know how to search the internet Natalie and look people up. I have seen Kelly’s profile too and your brothers and I also saw you just got Facebook.”
I got tears in my eyes. I felt so abnormal and incompetent. I was being treated like a child instead of an adult. Dad then started hugging me. “Natalie, it’s going to be fine.”
This time I didn’t pull away from the unexpected hug. It felt comforting than an invasion. I just curled my body up in his arms wrapping my hands and arms to my chest and resting my head on his shoulder.
“How am I supposed to find a guy and get married?” I cried.
“Join clubs, groups, go out, but finding these men who want to change your nappy is not the answer. You can’t keep using them to go out with them. There are also blind dates and that is how people meet.”
“But what is the difference?” I asked. “I could meet any guy and they could still want to change my nappy.”
“But you are finding these guys online who want to change a nappy than knowing who you are. They don’t care about you, they just care about you down there.”
But I knew he was wrong. I have met lot of nice AB/DL guys and they had never done anything to me but only changed me and fed me and read to me. Some have even gotten me nappies. I have also changed them too. There was nothing wrong with working as a stripper and dancing in my nappy only and making cash but unfortunately I had to pay taxes for it. I had to count all the money I made that day and put it in my notebook and that was before paying the place for the room I used. People loved seeing me in my nappy and thought it was hot. They even had no clue I was incontinent until I told them and then they would be shocked. I didn’t know why. I had also messed myself on stage and then some men would offer me big money to change it for me. They also brought in diapers for me too hoping they would get to change me. It was the fun times I had without Alex. I had freedom again and I felt so relaxed and happy and I didn’t have to deal with him 24/7 so it was easier to be around him and seeing him. But my Mum’s family had me labeled as being out of control and said I acted worse without him and taking my kid away basically made me be worse. I don’t know what they wanted, I had no kid on my hands so I had more time on my hands so I made good use out of it, what were they expecting me to do? Not go out and keep meeting AB/DL guys? Not be a stripper? I was so proud of myself I was making more money and being more independent and what was wrong with that? I came to a point where I didn’t even want to talk about my life anymore if they were against it. Then I emailed Dad telling him I would like to move to England and how would I do that and then Mum, Rosie, my brother and sisters and Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Tom all found out I wanted to move here and I thought they would try and stop me but I decided I could just ship my stuff to England to my Dad’s place and then move there and bring what I can on the plane. How are they going to stop me? But they let me come and now I saw Dad was setting me rules as if I am a child telling me how to live my life. To them I was someone who didn’t take my life seriously as a parent and my Mum thought she maybe did something as a Mum that screwed me up and made me be this way. I told her no it was my incontinence that helped me go this direction because I am finding guys who like women in diapers and it led me to being an adult baby and learn to just like diapers.
I didn’t become an adult baby overnight or a diaper lover. If everyone thinks so bad of me, why even be a Mum? I don’t get it, people say all the time how people shouldn’t be parents and then when someone decides to not be one, people still hate that. When people abuse their children, people say they should have their kids taken and be fixed and not allowed to have anymore and when someone does decide to hand their kid away because they couldn’t handle it, people still hate it. When a parent kills their special needs child, people get all mad about it and say how they are a bad mum and when someone does let their special needs child go under someone else’s care, people hate that too. All this annoys me. Why do people think both? It can only be one. They hate child abuse so shouldn’t they be thinking people should just hand their kids away or let someone else have them? People also think stupid people shouldn’t have kids and I’m too stupid to even be a mum so shouldn’t they think it’s good when stupid parents let someone have their kids? People just can’t make up their minds and they also do not think and they say only autistic people miss the big picture? I see normal people missing it too because they are sure illogical and I have seen illogical aspies and auties.
Dad let go of me and I just sat with him not leaning on him anymore.
“You’re smart Natalie,” said Dad. “But sometimes you don’t think and you just go out and do it without thinking. You just need to slow down. Use your brain, your common sense, your knowledge.”
“Jeremy didn’t force me to have sex without a condom,” I said. “I just let him not wear one and I chose to still have it and I knew the risks.”
“But didn’t he bully you into having it?”
“No.”
“Pressure?”
“No.”
“So why did you still have it after we have told you to use both and told you to not have it so soon?”
“I wanted to get rid of my virginity and I wasn’t sure when my next chance would be if we broke up.”
“And why no condoms?”
“He didn’t like using them, he said it made it hard for him to cum.”
“And why did you choose to take that risk?”
“He really wanted it and it meant so much to him and I didn’t want to be selfish so we had it and I didn’t get pregnant right away. It took about a month for it to happen.”
“I think he manipulated you. He made you feel guilty so you would have it and you gave in because you really care about other people and want to make them happy and you wanted to be a good girlfriend and he took advantage of it. He was not a good person,” said Dad.
“He said he was depressed without it and said he would feel better if he had it so I always would give it to him even though I didn’t want it.”
“Sounds like manipulation.”
“I should have been tougher but I gave in,” I said. “He would beg and beg me to have it and wouldn’t leave me alone and then he always told me I chose to have it and he didn’t make me and I let him beg me to do it because I should have kept on saying no.”
“That’s manipulation. That is not how it works to have sex and because it was your first time having it and it was your first relationship, you didn’t know.”
There was Jason but I guess Dad doesn’t count it as one. We were both fifteen and having sex was forbidden by my parents and Jason’s Mum and we were not allowed to stay at each other’s homes. Neither of us wanted it anyway.
I felt all angry with myself and at Jeremy. At him for not taking no for an answer and blaming me for having it with him and at myself for not being tough. Then next came the meanness and him being an asshole. Dad was calling it all abuse because he would keep hoping I would have a miscarriage and telling me how fat I am getting or how ugly I am looking and calling me chubby or fat tummy. He would also threaten to kill our baby and say he was joking and talk about how he should kill it and find a way to make me lose the baby and ask if I had miscarried yet whenever I got back from the appointment. But he had never laid a hand on me. He also changed my nappies. That was one of the good things I can think of about him. How could I have been so dumb and stayed with him? It took me until I was seven months pregnant to leave him and he let me go. I think it was because he didn’t want to be a dad. I had never told anyone the details about it except for my Mum and Dad and my siblings know about it too. I feel so ashamed this happened. My Aunt said it wasn’t my fault and so did Mum. My therapist said the same too. How could it not be my fault? Is it because I have a disability? I sometimes wished I didn’t have one or I would be doing more with my life. But it’s limited me from education. I can only stick with none educational jobs and if places will hire me without wanting any experience or require any cover letters or references. I have used Rosie as my reference and Aunt Elizabeth without telling anyone she is my aunt and she said I could use her and she won’t say she is related to me. She will just say her relation to me is landlord which would be no lie. I also get stressed out with resumes and applications and I know it’s all easy but it feels too much for me. Finding jobs is always tough. Then how I got a job as a nappy stripper was when I decided to strip but I told them how would they like something different and they asked me what and I showed them my nappy and I asked if they can try me and see how it goes. I also told them about my incontinence and I really needed the money to live so they tried me and guys actually liked me and so did the workers there so they kept me. They thought my new idea was brilliant. People would be shocked whenever I would pee in them or poop. People laughed and would throw money at me. Some even offered to change me and some would bring in their own to put me in and it was so much fun having my nappy get changed. Then I had to give the job up because of some men not respecting me and I got tired of the pressure and disrespect ad the managers doing nothing about it despite their rules about how to treat strippers. But I saved all the money I made. I had to pay the place for the room and make up people. I bet lot of men in the audience were AB /DL and they wanted to see a woman in a nappy and wanting to change it. I love getting mine changed because it makes me feel young and little inside and I pretend they are the daddy.
“How do I get a blind date?” I asked Dad.
“Well, how a blind date works is someone you know sets you up with a guy and they make you two meet.”
“Maybe you can set me up with someone,” I said. “Is there anyone who is single and looking?”
“Not anyone I know,” said Dad.
I then knew there was no way I could get a blind date.
“I will never fine someone,” I said.
“You will,” said Dad.
“How do you know? I have heard it before and I still haven’t found anyone yet,” I said.
“It will happen when the time comes but right now your kid comes first so you shouldn’t be chasing after guys anyway and if the right guy comes along, it will happen.”
“My son isn’t even here,” I said.
“And the reason why he isn’t was because you were not a responsible mum and helping him. Do you want to be a good mum?”
“Yes,” I said.
“So start acting like it.”
“How? He isn’t here so how can I be a good Mum?”
“First of all, stop chasing after strange men with a nappy fetish. Start focusing on getting settled here, go look for work, show us how responsible you are and stop being a kid, you’re an adult now and if you want to be treated like an adult, act like one. I am not saying you have to give up your video games and your computer and your stuffed animals and your shows and what clothes you wear and your toys, you need to be an adult first or everyone will treat you like a kid, put your needs first, don’t go out and buy video games and starve yourself, don’t put your interests first. Put your food and needs first and then you can buy whatever you like.”
“I have already been doing that?” I said. “I paid my bills first and always made sure I had enough saved for my bills and nappies.”
“But you were starving yourself so you can buy video games and go chasing after guys, that’s not being an adult.”
“So why not let me do what I want even if you think I am not being a real adult, that is what other adults do who are not real adults,” I said.
“They don’t have parents who love them enough to help or their parents don’t know where they are or don’t know what they are doing with their lives, we are letting you live your life too or else you would be chained in the basement and not allowed to go out by yourself. We let you have your freedom but this is about your son and I am giving you rules because this is my home and all adults need to follow their dad’s rules when they live under their roof so I am giving you them. If you can’t follow them, you are going back home to your country, be glad I am not kicking you out in the street, I am willing to buy your plane ticket to send you back and you can live your life there all you want without me getting on your back and feeling like I am treating you like a child. So you have a choice Natalie, be an adult or go home. This is your decision not mine so if I were treating you like a child, I wouldn’t be giving you these two choices.”
I wondered if this was why my Mum let me move here and everyone else, first my son and now this.
“I thought you liked me being here,” I said.
“I do but I would also have to make a tough choice wouldn’t I?” said Dad.
“So Mum let me move here just so you can force me to change my life,” I said.
“No that is not what I am doing, I am just setting you some ground rules for living with me and you have two choices so you make the decision. I could throw you in the streets and be homeless but why do that when you have a home already and where all your stuff is and your bank account. This is tough love I’m doing. I could be even tougher and kick you out in the streets for not complying but being sent home is less tough. But first you need to get your cell phone working again or I can put you on my plan and you pay me for your phone. We can figure out your budget when I get back from work.”
“I got food stamps so I didn’t need to starve myself,” I said.
“Natalie,” said Dad. “You can argue with me all you want-“
“And how can you think I can have Alex back if I almost killed him and wasn’t a good Mum?”
“Natalia, just stop. We have gone through this, you just need some guidance and I said I will help you and you just check with me if you are not sure when someone tells you some information on how to be a mum or how to handle him.”
“But the stress and not being able to handle the noise and the chaos,” I protested.
“Get on some medicine for your anxiety that is your number one step for him.”
“But it costs money,” I said.
“You won’t pay for it, they will, everyone here is covered. The laws are different here about health insurance remember that. When you go on it, you will be able to handle it better and you won’t be as stressed out and shut down as quickly.”
Dad went over the rules again about his flat and then he said, “No dating guys to change your nappy.”
“Dad,” I asked. “How does an adult act when they go out and meet men?”
“I am glad you asked that,” he said. “They wouldn’t let men whom they don’t know change their nappy or go alone with them somewhere with no other person around. They wouldn’t go out of their way meeting men with some weird fetish to use their medical condition to get off on them changing their nappy. You don’t need to find men with a nappy fetish to accept your medical condition. If any guy loves you, he is not going to let your medical condition get in the way. If some man loses interest because he found out you use them, then he isn’t the right guy. You just need to slow down and the right guy will come along.”
“How is a man supposed to come along if I am not dating them because of my kid?”
“When you are not looking, it still happens. Your Mum and I weren’t looking when we met. We met through a bet and were together for thirty years and I was her first boyfriend and only husband and she was my second and only wife.”
“Twenty seven years,” I couldn’t resist correcting. “You and her got together in fall of 1973 and it hadn’t been twenty eight years yet when you separated.”
“Okay, twenty seven years,” said Dad. “But we were married for nearly twenty six years because it took us a while for us to get divorced, two years.”
“Why did it take so long?”
“I was busy and had all those fines to pay and I had to wait until I was allowed to drive again and getting a new car and the cost it takes to get a divorce and Mum didn’t know how to do it except pick up the divorce papers so it took us a while and then we had to figure out the custody and who got what. We didn’t know what to do like where would she go and how will she survive. Your Mum just wanted me to have everything and you kids and she keeps her own paintings and easel and drawings and her books and her clothes and shoes and anything she personally owns. None of us wanted it to be ugly, no parental alienation or games in court and I let her take some stuff. Man, remember when we got separated in our house so we were both officially sleeping in separate rooms and her bedroom was the den?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Then you wanted her in a group home because it still wasn’t working with her living with us because it was still like you two were married and Grandma Del thought you were nuts and Mum didn’t want to be there because the adults were worse than her and lower functioning and more severe with their disabilities and it made her feel incompetent like she was mental or something.”
“I don’t think that was the case, she was just nervous because of other people and how they will get along and the fact she would be sharing a room.”
“And she went there every day to see what it was like remember?” I asked.
“Yes and then your grandmother took over and decided to deal with her and figure it all out since your Mum didn’t want to live with her and be away from all her kids. See she didn’t want to leave you all behind and you did with your son.”
“So did you,” I pointed out.
“How?” Dad asked.
“You moved away from us when you came here,” I said.
“Your brother was sixteen when I moved here, not four, and the rest of you were grown and he wanted to live with your mother because he didn’t want to move here and he didn’t like my rules of a clean house and your mum let him do whatever he wanted just as long as he stayed out of trouble and didn’t do any illegal stuff and came home by ten every night and did his homework and go to school. She was easy.”
“Kelly said she was mean and tough.”
“Mum was different so Kelly felt she was too strict with her rules and she was a teen and it’s normal for them to want their way and they think they know everything and Mum did her best with her and your sister was not impressed when your Mum was reading Complete Idiots Guide to Teenager’s Emotions and Development or Parenting Guide for People with Autism Spectrums Disorders to Raising A Teenager.”
I remembered those books and I thought they were funny but Mum got the last book too late because Kelly was in her senior year of high school and Mum thought she could still fix it. The book had just came out and Mum went out and bought it and it came to her door. But Kelly wasn’t interested in her and she kept pushing her away and she didn’t even give her a chance so of course it seems like Mum never changed because Kelly wouldn’t let her. Now Mum had given up and lives her life having four kids instead of five. Mum quit crying about it and moved on. At least she has her other children and grandson which she loves. She can keep him.
“At least she tried and it wasn’t good enough for her,” I said. “I wonder if she has something wrong with her.”
“I don’t know,” said Dad. “Who knows. I don’t think it matters.”
“Why not?”
“She is just Kelly and they’re all labels. Not everyone needs one and just because someone is a certain way doesn’t mean they have a disorder or illness.”
I always find it confusing, how can you tell if something is a disorder or just a personality? How do doctors distinguish them? How did they know I have one too rather than me just being a brat and naughty and a trouble maker and someone who is just slow and needs to catch up and needs more experience in social situations and someone who was just bossy or mean or just had quirks? What is the difference? When do these all become disorders than just quirks and personalities?
“How much did it cost to divorce?” I asked Dad.
“Not much, about a couple thousand,” said Dad. “We didn’t make it ugly and we both agreed so it was pretty easy and we didn’t fight. People were impressed and surprised how well we were handling it because we weren’t fighting or saying things about each other or fighting over our house and kids and stuff we had. I can remember a lawyer telling us “Geez you guys, if we had more of you, I wouldn’t even have my job.”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“Natalie, if more divorced couples were like us, those lawyers wouldn’t be making any money because no one would be fighting during their divorce and fighting over who gets custody and they wouldn’t even need a lawyer to fight it in court, it was a joke” said Dad. “Why do you think it takes so long for a couple to divorce? They keep fighting and fighting and have their own lawyer and keep going to court to fight and that adds up and the lawyers get more and more money for it. We only had one lawyer and your mum just kept saying what I was saying, I have the house and kids and she moves out, she only wants her stuff and I have the rest and I said what furniture she can have and she agreed and Grandma Del was involved by helping her figure it out and moving her into an apartment and she was happy there and I wasn’t going to keep her away from your kids or say when she can see you guys or when you can see her. But with children, it makes things a bit more complicated because you have to figure out custody and child support and your Mum didn’t have any money because she wasn’t employed and she only got money from her hobby which she gave me for our divorce. She would come by and drop it off and it made it harder because she didn’t have income and her medical history was brought up because of it. It was just stressful and your Mum had to get a diagnoses just so she can get on Social Security and it helped us through it.”
I understood now.
“But she got money from her paintings and drawings, how is that not income?” I asked.
“She didn’t get taxed for it because she didn’t have a job so the state didn’t recognize she was making money and she wasn’t doing it to avoid child support and we had to show our lawyer and mediator she was not avoiding jobs to pay it so that is why the diagnoses helped. I didn’t tell them about any abuse or how I had to be her carer or how I felt I had five kids or else it might have involved going to court and have it being used against her and it would have been more money.”
“Why did you need a lawyer?” I asked.
“Because we were getting a divorce and we needed one so he could help us go through it and let us knew what the laws were and our rights. Here we call them a solicitor. Back in America they are called a lawyer.”
The term solicitor reminded of the word back in the states but it meant going door to door selling stuff or telling them about your religion or political stuff reminding people to vote. I wonder what they call that here. I also didn’t think Trick or Vote existed here.
“Then Mum and I were like friends after that and I sent you to her flat every day after school because she didn’t like me checking on her so I sent you there just so you could spend time with her and be with her and then come home and tell me how everything is,” said Dad.
I could remember when Dad told me to not ever tell Mum Dad liked to see how she is doing so he sent me there to be with her and I did good not ever telling her. I was always afraid it would slip out. Every day I would get dropped off there after school and I was the one who started to do the dishes for her and clean the bathroom and kitchen sink and the fridge and Mum was always thanking me and saying what a great helper I am. I realize now I was just being my Mum’s carer or caregiver Americans would call it. I don’t know why Dad picked me. I think because I was the next oldest so it was my turn to look after her and it was only for an hour. Then Mum would take me home. At least she still drove and still got involved with my school and wanted to be in her kids lives and still came over to our house sometimes and for the holidays. But things were different without Mum around because Dad would get stressed out for the house not being clean and we were all expected to do our chores more and would get in trouble for not doing them. So finally Dad called Mum and told her to come and clean his house few times a week and that will be her way of paying child support. It was just mopping and sweeping and working in the yard and doing the dishes and cleaning the fridge and bathrooms and vacuuming. Dad would just give her a list of things to do. Then she was always done before school ended but Kelly always saw her when she get home and then Matthew started seeing her too. That was her way of being with us. But Dad was worried about her living situation so I always went to her flat and if it weren’t for me, her flat would have gotten worse and worse. There was no one there to tell her what to do and then I just started giving her a list and telling her what days to clean the bathroom and what time of day to do the dishes and hanging them up all over her flat. There I was doing Dad’s old work and I was only seventeen. I was close to being an adult, chronically. Being eighteen does not mean you are really an adult because it doesn’t happen overnight and some are adults before they turn eighteen. Madonna didn’t become an adult until she had her daughter and she was in her late thirties. Being a singer and actress doesn’t make someone an adult apparently; it’s based on their behavior. I am apparently not an adult because I was a stripper and going out and meeting AB/DL guys and having them change my nappy. I wonder if my Dad was not an adult until he stopped drinking. I wonder if Mum was never an adult. She can’t even be on her own without any guidance. What if I am just like her but in a different way? Would I need a man to take care of me in a different way than Mum needed?
“Well I need to get back to work now,” said Dad.
He got up and went to his computer.
“Now what do I do?” I asked.
“Ummm,” said Dad. “Why don’t you get dressed and explore London and apply for work when you see any. I only got you a two zone pass so you cannot go beyond zone two and it’s only good for a week, the expiration date is on the card.”
I ran in my room and took off my pajamas and my nappy. I put lotion on my bottom and put on a Bambino since it had good odor control and I was sure I smelled like piss on the plane and no one said anything. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care. I tend to forget to drink water.
I picked out some clothes and put them on. My butt looked thick from the nappy.
I packed my nappy bag and made sure I had some extra nappies. I left my passport here and I took my Nintendo DS off the charger. I looked in the fridge at the food again and made myself a sandwich and put it in a bagie and left grabbing the stuff off the counter Dad left me. I was down the steps when I realized I forgot something. I went back inside and brushed my teeth and I saw my nappy lying on the floor so I picked it up and stuck it in the washing machine with the other one.
“Natalie, please run the machine,” said Dad.
“What?”
“Run it.”
“How?”
“Wash your nappies, the laundry soap is in the bottom cupboard.”
I looked in the bottom cupboards and found the soap. I put it in and turned the washer on and left again.
I put my hood up since it was rainy. I just walked and looked at the houses and buildings. It was hard to do with the rain so I just looked at the ground. I made it to the main road when I pooped in my nappy. I felt pissed about it. These things are expensive and I just put it on and I already crapped it. I felt my nappy expanding from the shit. I hate being incontinent and I am so sick of cleaning up messy nappies. I could stay in it but then I would have to go all the way home later and change it or do it in the toilets and it’s also annoying. Plus they keep changing rooms locked up and family toilets and it’s so embarrassing to ask for the key and tell them why I need it so I use the public toilets to change. Then there are no trash cans because they use air dryers so it’s either I carry a messy nappy around or leave it under the toilet. The toilets here are not incontinent friendly. Neither are the restrooms back at home but the handicapped stalls usually have a trash can for used nappies where they have the changing table. But here they have changing rooms. They’re rare back in the states. Only place I have seen them at was at Nordstrom at the Westfield Mall in Vancouver, Washington or at a Babies R Us.
I turned and went home with tears in my eyes. I went back in Dad’s flat.
“Back so soon,” he said.
“I pooped in my nappy, stupid incontinence, I hate it,” I shouted.
“Go get cleaned up,” said Dad.
“I just put this one on and I just wasted it, how am I going to afford this unless I starve myself?”
“I said I will help you pay for them so don’t worry,” said Dad. “Don’t starve yourself.”
I went in my bedroom and just sat on my bed. The mess was comfortable. I saw my odor remover pills and realized I forgot to take it this morning so I got up and took a pill. Don’t get me wrong, I do like wearing nappies and messing in them and peeing but I just don’t like being incontinent. It makes me mess at the wrong times and wet and it’s not easy finding a place to change. I had gotten used to doing it in the toilets I don’t feel embarrassed when I have to throw my nappy away and there is no trash can in the handicapped stall or when I can’t fit it in the sanitary napkin holder so I hide the nappy and throw it away and people are too busy going to the bathroom and washing their hands to even notice. Rarely did a toilet back in the states have no trashcans so I have done the worse and hid the used nappy under a toilet because I refused to carry it with me. Online I saw I am not the only incontinent person who has done it. What kind of public toilets have no trash cans? They figure with air dryers, they wouldn’t need them. Another thing that is not fun about being incontinent is peeing while I am changing so hence the reason why I sit on the toilet as I clean up but that doesn’t guarantee I won’t wet when I stand so I take off my pants so I won’t get pee on them. I also do not stay dry long. I think my record for staying dry is about a half hour. But my body is always making pee so I go all the time. At least I don’t shit all the time.
Dad then told me he was going to work and left.
I spent the rest of my time in here in my messy nappy and I peed it more. I just played my Nintendo DS and other games I brought with. I eventually changed and threw my messy nappy away in the dustbin.
I saw Dad had left his laptop here so I got on it and connected to the internet. I went on Internet Explorer. That was the only browser he had and I wasn’t going to download anything on his computer. I checked my email and saw Steven’s reply. I wrote to him telling him I didn’t have a working phone and it was going to be hard to reach me and meet up and I was on my dad’s computer and I can’t use mine due to no proper power cord and my computer is region 1 so I wasn’t sure if it would be okay with their electricity. I browsed the forums and I kept checking my email for a response. Steven responded with,
“Yours should work with a region 2 power cord and your computer should be able to convert to higher power,” he wrote.
I wrote back “How do you know, I don’t want to wreck it.”
Steven then said computers are internationally made so they should be able to work with any power source and to check my laptop and see what it says for input. UK voltage was 240 volts and 50 Hz while North America is 120 volts and 60 Hz and if my power cord says 100-240 volts, it’s okay to use and all I need is a new power cord and I am good and he can help me get one. I replied back asking how he knew and he responded twenty minutes later with a link telling me about it. I read it and I went in my room and looked at my power cord and it read AC 100—240V -50/60 Hz. I looked at my Nintendo DS power charger and it read AC 120 60Hz. That meant I couldn’t get a power charger here for it so if I lost it, I would have to buy one from overseas. But when I plugged it back in, I noticed it wasn’t charging. I turned the system back on and saw the battery was down to two bars and it never even charged like I thought it did. I turned it back off. I felt panic inside. If it wasn’t charging, then that means I won’t be able to play my DS games. I wondered if it was safe to use batteries here with my US Game Boys and Game Gear. I had a Game boy Color and Game Boy Advance but I had left behind my GBA because I had my Nintendo DS Lite and it also plays GBA games. Luckily the Nintendo DS games were region free so I could just get a new one or I could just buy a new charger from the states. I was now desperate to get one now. I wondered how much they cost here in pounds or used. I got back on the computer to try and keep my mind off it.
I do not think moving to England is going to be so easy.