Diaper Mommy Novels & Stories

I don’t mind the poop diapers, but Knox, my goddess, complains about them. ‘Because they’re horrible!’ Knox shouted. They’re not. I mean, I’ve smelled worse. A lot worse. Rogues for one. And just, I mean, garbage smells a lot worse. Then there's, - 'I don't need a whole list. Baby diapers stink. I have a senstive nose!' Knox whined. We’re still getting used to being working parents, but thankfully, with our beta couple, our council, and our friends, we can manage to divide the work in a way that gives me plenty of time to spend with the kids and my mate.

There’s a whine behind her voice telling us easily the ordeal that she has gone through mentally. “It may sound odd but we found that the diapers with the most universal fit are cloth ones. We carry several of them in our bag along with clothing in various sizes. If she will let you, I think you have the most experience with infants considering you have two year old sisters.” Parker chimes in. “They are nearly three and already potty trained. Plus Austin is an actual father.” I push back knowing that he’s just simply trying to get away with giving me what most men don’t want to deal with.

He folded, tucked, and secured the diaper so perfectly it looked like it had been ironed. "Done," Alexander announced, stepping back. "Done!" Christian shouted a second later. Damien walked over to inspect. "Christian... solid. Functional. A bit tight, the kid might lose circulation in the left leg, but secure." He moved to Alexander. "Symmetrical," Damien noted. "Aerodynamic. And... did you double knot the tabs?" "It prevents leakage," Alexander said seriously. "Winner!" Damien declared. "Alexander Grayson, Diaper King." I laughed so hard I snorted. Alexander walked back to me, looking inordinately pleased with himself as he retrieved his jacket.

That was war. He grabbed his phone from the side table and typed: How to change a diaper for a newborn. The YouTube video popped up instantly. He balanced the phone against the tray of medical supplies and pressed play. The video started with a cheerful voice, “Hi moms and dads! Today I’m going to show you how to change a newborn’s diaper in five easy steps!” “Five? Just five?” Zayden muttered skeptically. “I’ve changed the fates of governments in fewer steps…”

“Mama’s trying. Please don’t scream like Papa does when he stubs his toe.” He didn’t care. His little fists waved, his red face scrunched, his cry sharp enough to cut glass. Milk leaked down my chest again, soaking my dress as my body ached to feed him, but he wriggled so hard I could barely hold him. I finally got the clean diaper on, my hair sticking to my forehead, my hands shaking. “There,” I huffed, kissing his soft cheek. “Fresh and clean. Now can we please join everyone else instead of being the circus act in here?”

I was prepping the ceremonial cloak for our seventh mating anniversary. The front door suddenly banged open. My son rushed inside, tears streaming down his face. "The teacher yelled at me," he sobbed. He shoved the wrinkled drawing into my hands before burying his face in my shirt. I smoothed out the paper to see what the drama was about. It was a sketch of a faceless woman titled: The Substitute Mom. My heart stopped as I read the scribbles underneath. "Daddy said she is the backup."

He hushes her in a soothing voice and cradles her in his arms. I find it so incredibly sexy that Dior is good with our children. Heat floods the area between my legs, but I remind myself that the doctor told me to take it easy after the c-section. I'm just praying the scar will somewhat fade. Dior calls it beautiful, but in my eyes, I resemble a walking disaster. I'm fat, plump, sweaty all the time, and now I have a nasty scar. "Shh," Dior is beaming down at our daughter and moving from side to side to soothe her. She seems to enjoy that. "Daddy is here. It's okay. I got you, little one. No one will harm you."

A text came in about a half-hour later. Deacon: Okay. I’m in the diaper aisle. There are a lot of choices. I smiled as I typed. Bless his heart. The idea of my hot neighbor standing clueless in the diaper aisle was as adorable as it was funny. Some unsuspecting mama was going to have a heart attack when she went looking for diaper pail bags and found him instead. Carys: Anything in size 2 will be great. Deacon: Huggies or Luvs?

They stopped screaming as the teats filled when the bottles rose to the correct angle. "I know, me too. Remember when we used to complain that they were taking too long to come?" Damon asked as he gathered the third load of diapers the babies had filled that morning along with their second change of clothes and the empty bottles that had built into a pile in the corner of the couch. "Remember when we used to wear clothes? Clothes that you could go outside in" he muttered miserably as he looked at his mate, sitting in the chair in the same pajamas he had been wearing for the last two days.

I sputter quietly. "I would recommend getting one," she advises. "Diapers are a lot cheaper there, and if it's a boy, the only diapers that hold Theo overnight are the Sam's Club brand." "Oh. Okay." I don't know how else to respond. Not only am I in disbelief, but I'm so appreciative of the information part of me wants to keep asking questions. Quincy is the only mom I know, and she was never pregnant with Chance. He's her biological nephew, and she didn't get custody of him until he was two months old. The time frame before that is just as lost on her as it is on me.