Published: January 28th 2022, 3:00:07 pm
She knew it was an exaggeration, her mind being overly dramatic, yet, in a way, this did, indeed, feel like one of the hardest things Heather could recall having to do. She didn't blame Lizzie for it; the little was right, Heather knew that this wasn't really what she wanted, that things were probably moving too quickly for her... Heather should have recognized that on her own, toned it down a bit, but it all felt so right to Heather...
And it still did. Sitting there, on the sofa, feeling the warmth of the tiny body next to her, sitting there in her t-shirt and trainers, the latter rustling softly with the smallest movement, giving Heather a fresh reminder of the state of her companion, how the girl was even more adorable than usual... Heather couldn't help glancing down when she heard it, either, the sound like a dog whistle to her ears, attracting her instinctively, showing her Princess Angelica's face peeking out from beneath Lizzie's shirt, and those stars...
It didn't matter what happened to them; all of that was on pause for the moment - hopefully not forever - so, even if Lizzie had a full-blown accident, if she squatted down in the middle of the living room and filled her pants, Heather couldn't do anything about it, couldn't take her to the nursery to demote her to diapers... Or, rather, she shouldn't. She, of course, could do anything she wanted, knowing Lizzie was too small and helpless to stop her, and that most of the world would be on Heather's side... But that wasn't the right thing to do, the right way to go about this, so she wouldn't have.
It didn't stop her from watching those stars like a hawk, however, searching for any sign of fading, of discoloration... They really were quite convenient for caretakers, taking away the need for constant checks... On the other hand, that meant they lost the fun of those, too, of seeing their charges whine and pout and insist they didn't need them, even as their Mommies, or babysitters, or whomever, discovered how big of a lie that was.
As much as she liked to think of herself as Lizzie's caretaker, though, that wasn't actually the case. They'd played a few games, danced up to that line, but they hadn't crossed it... So, whether she'd seen one of Lizzie's stars start to vanish or not, it didn't matter. It would amuse her, sure, and give her a little more hope that she'd be able to get Lizzie into diapers sooner or later, on the girl's own volition... For today, however, it wouldn't mean anything more than that.
With all of that staring, it was difficult not to notice Lizzie fidgeting, squirming in place, coaxing more crackling from her Pull-Ups, and immediately making Heather's mind wander to what was happening, to the possibility that she was about to see the girl wet herself, right there on the couch. That raised quite the quandary... Did she say nothing, watch what unfolded naturally, and pray she was able to contain her excitement and delight if what she suspected was going to occur did, or did she say something, and run the risk of Lizzie getting annoyed at her, thinking Heather was treating her like a kid?
Finally, she decided she had to speak up, but that she'd stay vague. "Lizzie," she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible, to keep from cooing and gushing at the cutie, "is everything all right?"
"Yeah," Lizzie nodded. "I just... It feels like you're watching me more than the TV."
Heather blushed, realizing she was caught. "Oh... Sorry. I guess I was." There was no point pretending otherwise, or lying to the girl. "Are you hungry?" she changed the subject. Going to the kitchen would be a good way to distract herself, to get a chance to cool down a bit.
"Sure," Lizzie said. "Do you want some help?"
More adorable images floated through Heather's head, of Lizzie padding around the kitchen, 'helping', perhaps sitting on the floor tasting things, or covered in flour after a little accident, or just crawling around on her hands and knees, wanting nothing more than to be near her Mommy, even if she was such a sweet, tiny baby that she wasn't capable of doing much else...
"Th-That's okay," Heather told her. "I have it under control. Your laundry's probably about ready to move to the dryer anyway."
Heather retreated to the kitchen, setting the box of macaroni and cheese she had planned to make back in the cupboard. Lizzie might still have eaten it, but she didn't want to make the girl feel obligated. It was quick and easy, which could have worked as an excuse for why she had cooked it, yet it did definitely have a childish connotation to it that, considering their earlier conversation, was kind of risky. She could just make some other pasta that wasn't in the shape of little bunnies, and hopefully wouldn't make Lizzie think she was being treated like a toddler when she saw it on her plate.
A bit of extra time in the kitchen wasn't a bad thing, either. It was nice having some time to herself, to concentrate on chopping up veggies and waiting for the water to boil. She didn't even have to worry about popping into the living room to check on Lizzie, to see if she needed a snack, or a change... She enjoyed doing all that, of course, however that didn't mean it wasn't a relief to know that she not only didn't have to, but shouldn't.
Lizzie did make an appearance. Heather heard her feet pitter-pattering across the apartment to see if her laundry was done, then the sound of the footstool being dragged in front of the washing machine so she could transfer her stuff over to get dried off. She knew Lizzie was capable of handling it by herself - who knew how many times she'd done it at a laundromat, before they'd met - but normally she'd have scurried after her, doing it for her, if she hadn't gotten it done before the girl even realized the spin cycle was over.
She didn't so much as offer this time. It wasn't out of spite, or anger at Lizzie for what she'd told her... She just trusted the girl knew where she was, and that she could find her if she needed help. That was, at first, what Heather assumed when she turned, saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, her shirt looking a touch damp from where she'd pulled the laundry out of the washer, hugging it to herself as she carefully moved it over to the next machine.
"What's up?" Heather asked, stopping short of inquiring if the little had been able to reach the button to start the dryer, noting that she could hear it faintly from across the apartment. "Do you need something dry to wear?"
"Huh?" Lizzie frowned, glance down, her obliviousness only making the situation harder for Heather to resist, watching as, instinctively, the girl's hand slid to her trainers before noticing her shirt. "Oh, that... It isn't too bad. It'll dry in a minute, I'm sure."
"Okay," Heather nodded, accepting it, letting go of her thoughts of how cute it would be to put Lizzie into one of her shirts, since all of Lizzie's others were in the dryer. It might be more beneficial to Heather, too, as it would be long enough to hide the training panties, and make it slightly possible that she could perhaps forget about them. If Lizzie was fine with things as they were, however, Heather wasn't going to push it. "Do you need something else?"
Lizzie shook her head. "No," she chirped. "I thought I'd see what you were up to!"
"Just cooking," Heather shrugged. "Oh, speaking of..." She could see the bubbles forming in the water, snatching off the lid to dump in her pasta.
"Do you want me to finish chopping while you do that?" Lizzie offered. "I can bring the footstool in, and..."
"No, that's all right," Heather said.
"Heather," Lizzie put her hands on her hips, which, contrary to what she probably thought, only made her look less intimidating, her shirt riding up, showing off the entirety of her Pull-Ups. "I can use a knife without hurting myself."
"I know that," Heather assured her. "The footstool is a little wobbly, though, so it makes me nervous..."
"Really?" Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "That's your only reason?"
"Well, no," Heather confessed. "I'm sure you could be a big help, Lizzie, but you're also kind of a distraction, dressed like that. It'll be easier for me to finish up if I can't just look over and see how adorable you are in your trainers..."
Lizzie blushed, nodded. "I can put my shorts back on once they're dry."
Heather noted, silently, that Lizzie wasn't saying she was going to take her Pull-Ups off, even though that would be an option, too, but she did her best not to read too much into it. "You don't have to," Heather smiled. "It doesn't bother me, it's just a bit... distracting."
"Is that why you were staring at me in the living room?" Lizzie asked.
Heather considered fibbing, but didn't, not wanting to risk harming Lizzie's trust in her. "Yes."
"Oh," Lizzie pouted slightly. "I hoped it was just me..."
"It's you, too!" Heather told her. "But... Well, with those stars there... It's hard not to just take a peek now and then..."
"So, you've been checking me?" Lizzie demanded.
Heather ducked her head sheepishly. "I have," she admitted. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..."
Lizzie sighed. "It's okay," she said after a moment. "I guess I can't really blame you when I'm running around like this."
"I'm the one who put the shorts you wore into the washer," Heather pointed out. "You didn't have much of a choice."
Lizzie went back to the living room, letting Heather concentrate on cooking again. It didn't take long before it was all done, however, and she was carrying the plates into the dining room, calling out for Lizzie to join her. The sight of the girl toddling into the room filled her with joy, as did Lizzie making a valiant attempt to scramble up onto the chair by herself.
'Look at that,' Heather's brain ordered. 'This is why she needs you, need to be in your nursery, all diapered up... If she's too small to even get into a chair on her own, how can she claim to be an adult?'
Heather pushed that voice down into a whisper, the closest she could get to banishing it altogether. "Would you rather eat in the living room?" she asked diplomatically. Lizzie still had a little trouble with the sofa, but it was just enough lower that she could make it... Heather realized only now that the few times she and Lizzie had sat at the table, she'd lifted the girl up onto the chair without thinking, without asking if she wanted help, so it hadn't registered that they were too tall for her, beyond knowing that she needed a couple books under her bottom to let her reach her plate, which were already waiting for her, and probably not making things any easier.
A booster seat would be more stable, and no doubt more comfortable. A high chair would, of course, be even better. Heather hadn't worked up the courage to suggest the former, much less the latter, which, considering what had happened today, was likely for the best. It would be difficult for Lizzie to feel like she was being respected as an equal, no matter what Heather did, if she had to eat in a pink, plastic booster seat.
"N-No," Lizzie shook her head. "We can eat in here... I just... C-Could you...?"
She blushed, lifting up her arms. A part of Heather wanted to tease her, to point out that she was such a bashful little baby that she'd seemingly forgotten how to use her words, resorting to asking for uppies like any other toddler, but, instead, she wordlessly complied, picking the girl up, setting her down on her pile of phone books, scooting the chair in a bit closer to the table.
"Th-Thanks," Lizzie's face went a touch redder as she looked down at her plate. "Th-This looks yum... good. Thank you."
"You've very welcome," Heather smiled, sliding into her own seat. "Might as well dig in while it's still warm!"
They had a nice conversation, but it was hard for Heather not to watch Lizzie as she sat there, legs swinging, some stray pasta sauce dribbling onto her shirt, smearing on the edge of her mouth... Heather hadn't intended to make something messier than macaroni and cheese, to give Lizzie a more difficult time eating it and staying clean, though she supposed that was a side effect of more 'adult' food... It did sometimes require more coordination, and, as mature as Lizzie was, she did lack a little in that department.
"I already have more laundry to do," Lizzie grumbled when she was finished, Heather struggling to keep her mouth shut about the obvious solution, about how a simple bib would take care of that.
By the time they were done, and had cleared the table, Lizzie's clothes were dry, so she went to handle them while Heather did the dishes, coming back to the living room to find Lizzie in a new, clean shirt and shorts, with no sign of her Pull-Up bulge underneath. That was for the best, probably, would make it easier for Heather to think of her as the adult she knew she was... It would be a lie to claim she wasn't the least bit disappointed, however.
It would also have been a lie to pretend she wasn't still on the lookout, still hyper-aware of every time she saw Lizzie fidget or squirm, her mind racing, wondering if she'd had an accident, knowing that it didn't matter, that their whole potty training game was over, for today anyway.
She did discover that Lizzie hadn't had any that night, when they got into bed. Lizzie had brought a nightie of her own, one that Heather couldn't stop herself from thinking how adorable it would be with a bulky diaper underneath, or even a Pull-Up. Lizzie's Sunday panties were a good substitute, with their pristine, white cloth, the yellow ribbon, the smiling sun right in the middle...
"Is this... too forward?" Lizzie nibbled her bottom lip, tugging at the tiny, almost see-through skirt of the nightie. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable..."
Heather shook her head, patting the bed beside her. They made out for quite a while, Heather feeling Lizzie's heart beating faster and faster, feeling her skin warm the further they went, the more they did...
This was what Lizzie wanted, and Heather wanted to give that to her... She could tell how hungry the girl was for it, how desperate she was... And Heather certainly was enjoying herself, too... But there was also some part of her that felt like this was wrong, that she shouldn't be doing this sort of thing with a little, no matter how special she was... Lizzie's fingers slipped into the waistband of Heather's underwear, starting to pull them down, to reach beneath...
"I'm sorry," Heather gasped, and, instantly, Lizzie yanked her hand away.
"Sorry!" she squeaked. "I-I should have..."
"No," Heather stroked her hair, smiling at her. "It's fine... I just... I-I don't think I'm ready for that... Not yet."
She was worried Lizzie would be mad, would think that was a sign that Heather wasn't working hard enough to view her as an adult, but Lizzie nodded. "That's okay," she said. "At least we're in bed together, and I'm not in a diaper, right? That's progress..."
"It is," Heather gave her another kiss.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
There was some more progress the next day. Heather woke up before Lizzie, and was surprised when the girl came yawning into the living room with a pair of training panties clearly under her jeans.
"I wore today's panties yesterday," she explained, seeing Heather's expression. "I didn't want to throw off my whole schedule..."
"Does that mean... you want to go back to potty training?" Heather asked delicately.
Lizzie blushed. "M-Maybe."
Heather didn't pursue the issue, didn't check Lizzie, or remind her to use the bathroom. She could definitely still see the plastic waistband, peeking out above the denim one of her pants, could hear the soft crinkling, but she did her best to ignore that all, to keep treating Lizzie like she had yesterday, like a grown-up.
That made it quite the surprise when, before she headed back home, Lizzie handed over her Sunday panties. "Do you... want me to put these in the hamper?" Heather frowned.
"I-If you want," Lizzie stammered. "But... umm..." She looked down at her feet. "I-I kinda... I had a bit of an accident in my Pull-Ups..."
"Oh, sweetie!" Heather exclaimed, before she could stop herself. "It's okay! Did you get all cleaned up?"
She hadn't intended to make Lizzie do this, though she wasn't about to complain about it when the girl unbuttoned her jeans, opening them up, showing the soggy trainers underneath, the stars clearly faded. "I-I think I'm okay for now... Right?"
That sounded like an invitation, but Heather hesitated, looked into the girl's eyes, before reaching forward, giving the Pull-Ups a squeeze. "I think you'll be all right until you get home," she agreed. "As long as you don't have another accident... Do you think you can do that?"
Lizzie blushed, nodded, letting Heather tug her pants up again, button them. "You weren't in these panties, though," Heather pointed out. "We don't have to count this."
Lizzie shook her head. "I-I think we should."
"But, sweetie," Heather looked down at her, "if you do this, you're going to have to be in Pull-Ups all weekend long! Are you sure you're okay with that?"
Lizzie swallowed. "I-I am, Mommy. H-How am I going to learn if there are no consequences for my actions?"
Heather chuckled, kissing her gently on the top of her head. "Such a clever girl," she smiled.
"And, Mommy?" Lizzie stared up at her. "I-I was thinking about what you said yesterday, and... I-I don't know about going back to d-diapers right away if I use my Pull-Ups..."
"No, you don't have to worry about that," Heather told her. "I don't know what I was thinking... That's moving too quickly, and..."
"What about three strikes?" Lizzie asked. "I mean, with big girl panties, one strike is all it takes to prove I'm not ready, but... Well, Pull-Ups are meant to handle a couple little accidents... But if I use them three times... Well, that's more than a couple, right?"
"I think that's a wonderful idea, kitten," Heather smiled, seeing how proud Lizzie seemed to be at this solution she'd come up with, how willing she was to make this work... It just went to show Heather how much work of her own she had to do. "Mommy could really take some notes from you sometimes, huh?"