I shaved off all of my body hair. Yes, I was that bored. My skin feels really soft but a bit stubbly. This is a problem with shaving body hair. If you shave too closely you may have baby smooth skin for a day or two, but you’ll get ingrown hairs and a general irritated rash. Shave less closely and you are a stubbly kid. The trick of shaving one’s own arse, we are told, is to squat over a mirror.

Need proof that I’ve shaved? Here it is:

You can click for an enlargement and see the lack of body hair and the horrific state of my arms.

I think a nappy, shortalls and baby booties make for ideal apparel on a Thursday afternoon.

Since I have been feeling better I haven’t felt like doing so much baby stuff. Sure, I still cuddle Butter the bear at night, and often wear nursery-printed clothes, but as far as putting nappies on and playing baby games goes I just haven’t fancied it.

Hmmm… I could put on a nappy now… I don’t have much writing to do today, so why not? Yeah, I’ll go for it.

Edit: Just to prove I am wearing a nappy (and a nursery-printed onesie) here is the evidence:

The cat seems quite interested in my nappy.

The partner took a picture of me whilst I was deeply asleep this morning.

Good bedclothes, eh?

For the first time since I tried a bit of loony bin baby play back in February I have put on a nappy. I am not sure why I have not felt the desire to put one one until now. Perhaps just being happy has been enough to keep things ticking along nicely up until now.

I am enjoying wearing it. I feel safe, secure and very much like I am going to have a good night. I have a baby blue onesie to stop the nappy from sagging.

I am very much aware that the desire to do baby stuff comes and goes in phases. At this very moment I could happily be at the start of a baby phase.

These are also from Linenstore.co.uk from their selection of kid's double bedding.

I've given Butter the bear a bath in the washing machine. He has been on serious soothing duty for quite a while, and so was quite sweaty. Worse than that, in a move of what can only be described as total ineptitude I managed to spill prawn cocktail on him this afternoon. Sadly the pictures I took don't really capture the radical cleaning effect the bath has had on Butter, so I cannot be bothered to post them here. On coming out of the drier he is really toasty warm. This is nice for cuddling.

As you can see, I am happier today. Firstly my Community Psychiatric Nurse dropped by with a prescription for 8mg/day of Risperidone. Hooray! Secondly, and most importantly, when things were really crap at lunch time the partner dropped everything at work and came home to look after me. This cheered me up no end. He'll be working from home for the rest of the week, which should give the drugs time to kick in. Finally, the internet supermarket gave away some free toy vans, which, as you can see in the picture below, Kisu the cat was also interested in.

Last night I read the Toybag Guide to Age Play. It is a quick read, but covers quite a lot. If you are new to age play, or want to explain it to someone, you could do worse than buy this.

more fail, owned and pwned pics and videos

I have just received a couple of onesies from Babykins. They seem excellent quality and fit a treat. The nursery-prints are quite good, as you can see in this example:

Cute and practical, no more sagging nappies.

I just popped next door to the toddlers who live in the same building as me. They have a new acquisition: a high chair. It is really high quality and I like sitting so my feet dangle in the air. Here are some pictures:

  

Nice, eh? The lovely lion-printed shirt came to me courteously of this reseller on the excellent Zazzle.com novelty-printed goods site.

Privatina are excellent; it is nice to finally see an AB clothes supplier who make professional quality clothes. OK, I admit they are a bit pricey, but what price can you put on fun.

Here are the clothes I got with in my latest order, as ever click on the pictures to get an enlargement. Firstly a little legged sleeper suitable for summer:

   

This is a footless sleeper:

These are my 'Racer' pyjamas, you can see me celebrating winning a race:

   

And finally, my giraffe sleeper. Notice the little ears on the feet.

 

 

I am off to London's monthly Adult Baby Club this weekend. Last time I was there smoking was still allowed in public places and it was full of Euro-babies toking away on illicit substances; not very childish. I am quite looking forward to it, it is a good excuse to get out of the flat and have some fun with some friends. I will wear my Privatina overalls, pictures of which can be found here.

I've been invited to a pre-ABC milkshake party beforehand. Quite what a milkshake party is I don't know, but again it will be fun to catch up with some friends.

Yesterday we went to The Southerner in the city. This is a boozer that sells Speight's beers, imported from New Zealand. We went with the neighbours, one of whom is from New Zealand, because we were promised that they do good roast lunches on Sundays. Good roast lunches, my arse. They were bloody awful: overcooked, leathery, flavourless meat, wet tasteless vegetables and the roast potatoes defied description. I wasn't so impressed with Speight's beers, either.

So, we needed perking up. This required decent wine, teddy bears and nappies. You can see me enjoying these around the neighbours' place below:

As you can see by my bulging Miffy t-shirt, now I am not spewing all of the time I have put on a shed-load of weight. I've had to move up to large-size Abri-Form X-Pluses. The wine was a rather cheeky little Chateauneuf, Mont-Redon 2004, which really blossomed with time in the glass. The afternoon passed with much pleasure and I felt rather jollied along by the whole affair. The kebabs we ordered later were much better than The Southerner's roast lunches.

I have posted pictures of things I have ordered from Privatina before (here, here, here and here); I think they are an extremely good supplier of clothes for superannuated toddlers. I have recommended them to many people (including the child next door) and everyone has only had positive experiences of their service. I would suggest you pay for gold membership if you are going to put in a big order as the discount is pretty good.

I have just ordered two more things: some short pyjamas for the summer and a 'giraffe' footed sleeper. The giraffe sleeper is particularly childish, it has a big giraffe embroidered on the front and ears on the feet. It has a zip on the back so I will have to be put in and taken out of it; I am all for being taken care of. I don't suppose they'll enable me to pull off 'cute', but they do help to suspend the disbelief. I like bumming about the flat in baby clothes, and going out in them on occasion, so more good things are always welcome.

I've got a bath robe from Privatina:

It is made of nursery-printed toweling, with a soft fleece lining, and the hood has ears (well, an ear in this picture anyway):

Here are some pictures of the two items of clothing I received today. I am very pleased with them.

 

 

Privatina can be found here.

It is a bit short for my tastes:

My fault entirely for not looking at the pictures closely enough.So I've emailed and asked if one can be made of a length I can wear outside. The ears are great for signaling:

Oh I say, which the excitement of new clothes arriving I forgot to say I visited the neighbours last night. They don't mind if I occasionally check how wet my nappy is:

And don't mind if I find trousers too difficult to work after I've had a change:

That is obviously chocolate-flavour milk I am drinking, not a creamy cocktail.

My that was quick, they claim two-to-four weeks. Here I am in my fleece pedalling trousers and jacket with hood and ears:

 

You can click for an enlargement if you really like.

The quality seems very high for an AB clothes manufacturer, I would have no qualms about ordering again from them. Indeed, I've just placed a new order after paying for membership. There are a lot of details that are nice about the clothing, they are branded, have childish 'shop-tags' attatched to them when you unpack them and have childish size tags where appropriate. They look very much like 'real' baby clothes but in a much larger size.

Oh I got some baby booties too:

Privatina can be found here.

I'm still a good baby, cuddling Butter and doing as I am told:

Even drinking from an appropriate vessel:

After my bath last night I was fortunate enough to be 'made ready' for bed: this is the advantage of being a supervised toddler. All I had to do was be co-operative and good. And I am a good baby.

First comes a nappy:

Then plastic pants:

Finally a nursery-printed sleeper to keep me snuggly and warm:

I've been supervised at home for the past two days, so I have not cut myself or done anything else bad. This has resulted in me being sure that I am a good baby rather than a bad adult. This works for me. My dose of the anti-psychotic that has worked in the past (Risperidone) was also increased yesterday, I am half way to getting up to a therapeutic dose. This has also cheered me up a bit, even though the hallucinations are still pretty bad. Still, I am a good baby and that is a good thing.

A friend in Canada has just received his order from Privatina, he says they are good. In view of this I have ordered some fleece pedalling trousers for mooching about inside and a nursery-printed jacket for wearing outside. They'll take 2 to 4 weeks to arrive then pictures will appear here. If they are of a high quality they sell several other things I would like.

You just cannot get any peace these days. There I was trying to sleep and someone comes and takes pictures of me. Well, here they are (click for enlargements):

You can turn yourself into a Springfield resident at Simpsonizeme.com. Here I am as a one-year old, I am sure you can see the resemblance.

The Register, that excellent source of witty tech news, has an article on those cousins of ABs, namely furries. Well done them for covering alternative social trends, but it does seem slightly outside their normal sphere of comment.

I had to go shopping first thing yesterday morning. I dressed like this:

Then later on I was invited for dinner chez the neighbours and I dressed like this:

Both suited me fine, but somehow they seemed the wrong way around...

As I reported a couple of weeks ago, I ordered a couple of mod-ed dummies. They are Nuk Medic Pro nipples with shields from smaller babies dummies. Here they are:

You can get them from www.pacifiersrus.com

The results of my shortalls dyeing experiment seem a success. They are most fetching in baby blue.

      

Looks a lot more childish than dull old beige.

Is dyeing my beige shortalls light blue. They are currently swirling around in the washing machine looking a rather dirty shade of dark blue. I await the results with interest. Pictures will be posted, naturally.

A custom dummy (soother or pacifier) from these good people. They take the teats from Nuk 5 dummies (this is what I currently use) and retrofit the shields of more amusingly decorated dummies with them. The result: a dummy for large babies like me! I admit they are not amazingly cheap, but I think it'll be well-worth having one. I'll post a picture when I get it.

Here are some pictures of my new beige shortalls.

       

They are a bit... well... beige, but at least they fit well. I have to say I am tempted to dye them baby blue. That'd get me noticed about Town.

A while ago I ordered some shortalls from Pointer Brand. They arrived earlier this afternoon, hooray! I got a beige pair (which I will take some pictures of tomorrow) and these blue denim ones.

They seem great for strolling about in on the unseasonably warm days we've been having of late.

 

I've ordered myself a couple of DVDs of the animation Pocoyo; we are told they are great for toddlers. My only experience of Pocoyo is an episode on YouTube, which I include below. I was amused enough to spend a few pounds on the DVDs.

Thanks to my new purchase, a stereo bluetooth headset for my Jasjar, I can now make telephone calls using Butter. I just attach the microphone to his shirt and stick the headphones in my ears:

I can also give Butter commands to play music and navigate the web thanks to the power of voice recognition. I wonder what people would think if I walked around apparently chatting to my teddy bear.

As I mentioned Abena sell onesies. I purchased a couple as they were only a tenner each. Abena describe them as 'body stockings' and this is probably a better term. They are thin and laced with Lycra and so are incredibly stretchy. If you are ordering try to make sure you are right in the middle of the size bracket or they will not fit properly. There is no way one could iron on a transfer. They'd be good under clothes, though.

 

OK, I admit they are not terribly flattering for the larger-sized toddler, but they are so clingy and stretchy one can get up to all kinds *ahem* of stuff.

 

As I was looking through my draw of baby clothes I noticed this:

This is the oldest item of baby clothing I own, from 1996, and it still fits! The company that made it has long gone tits up, but it is a good, comfortable thing to wear. Some of you may be wondering how I can have clothes that are eleven years old when I am merely two, and I assure you that so do I...

As I surfed that crazy interweb-thing earlier today I found a few things that might be of interest.

I am aware there are companies in the US that sell nursery-printed disposables for adults (like this one), but today I found a place selling them in Europe. If you click here and scroll to the bottom of the page you'll find them. OK, so they don't look quite as good as the American ones, but I imagine they'll delight some people.

The same place sells very affordable onesies, some of which are nursery-printed. They are at the bottom of this page.

Finally, bargain onesies can be found in the UK from those makers of brilliant nappies: Abena. Download their catalogue and they are on toward the end of it. A tenner for a t-shirt onesie, excellent! I'll be ordering some soon.

We are told that a sugary drink before bed helps one to sleep. I tried it with a Harvey Wallbanger:

Problem is, those HW's are rather heroic for a toddler like me, and drinking them from a baby bottle does increase the rate at which alcohol is absorbed into the blood-stream:

It didn't help me sleep. Curses!

Last night I met a couple of ABs, one of whom had travelled over from the US on business. We had went for some London-brewed beer, had a look in in Tate Modern then went out for dinner at a place called Chili's in Canary Wharf. Here I proved that I am the master of unconvincing smiles:

My smile was unconvincing because I found the margarita to be weak and lacking ferocity. The baby back ribs were quite nice; I plastered my face with the sauce.

Whilst we were out in Canary Wharf and anecdote occurred. My overalls have a teddy bear printed on the back pocket and I was wearing my sweater that has a picture of Butter on the front and bear paw-prints on the back. I was hanging around with the chap from the US whilst our other dining companions had to visit the little boys' room when suddenly a quite fetching young lady of about twenty came up to us. She said, "Excuse me, but why do you have teddy bears on your clothes?"

What could I reply but, "Because I am an enormous toddler, of course."

She hesitated a moment before saying, "Oh, and I thought you just liked teddy bears. That is quite cute, I suppose." And off she went.

For those of you who come here via my minimalist homepage you may have noticed a new link up there. In 2001 I was interviewed for a television program called Luv Bytes that was going to appear on Channel 4 and E4 over here. They gave me a tape of the full program and last night I finally managed to convert it to a digital format. I've put a clip up on the new page. I have never met anyone who has watched it, so I cannot say I gathered fame and glory from appearing on television.

I have a bath or shower every day and use deodorant, but because I wear nappies I have become aware that I have a distinct odour. Luckily, it is nothing that smells bad. I change regularly and clean myself up with baby wipes. These are very highly scented in order to mask the stink that babies manage to generate. Consequently, I smell of Pampers' baby wipes. No one has ever commented on this, but the kitten finds the smell of my fingers after a change to be really interesting.

I used iron-on transfer paper to add a nursery print to a onesie. I think the result was pretty good.

Onesies are such handy items of clothing, I really don't have enough of them.

One of the things about getting bigger is that it generally becomes easier to put clothes on. I remember having great difficulty putting jumpers on and knowing which shoe went on which foot when I was a smaller toddler. Well today I experienced all that again when I injured myself with a sock.

I suppose socks seem fairly innocuous, but the mere act of taking one off has resulted in me losing half a thumb nail. It hurts, I can assure you. I was taking my socks off before getting in the bath, balancing on one leg to take the sock off the other. As I stood there, a mono-pod, struggling with a particularly tight sock I felt my balance begin to go. I was sure I'd have time to get the sock off and put my foot to the floor. Then I toppled slowly over, sticking out my arm to break my fall. It did break my fall, but I ripped off half a thumb nail in the process. I prefer not to view myself as a moronic, rancid fool, but simply a toddler who cannot be trusted to deal with clothes by himself.

Kisu the kitten is very nice, he is friendly most of the time and always likes to be involved with what is going on in the flat. This causes problems when it is time for a nappy change. He finds the plastic tabs on the side of nappies to be fascinating, and he likes to claw and nibble them. It gets worse when he is excited and then he jumps at the nappy as soon as I get one from the nappy box; he wants to kill it. Obviously, such treatment isn't ideal if you wish your nappy to remain water-proof.

I got this red flannel footed sleeper from here. Rather lurid, isn't it?

It has a drop seat back and quite tough soles to the feet. It does make me look like an escaped terrorist, though.

I don't know why I keep buying baby clothes, I've got so many I really don't need any more. I suppose it is just because I like them. As I spend most of my time mooching around the flat I cannot really be bothered to put on serious clothes; footed sleepers will do just fine. I've found another place that sells them, here is their website. With the current weakness of the dollar they are quite cheap, even if they don't come in nursery prints. I've got one in the post. Of course, a picture will appear here when it arrives.

I ordered some training pants from a UK company called Drylife. They are plastic pants with a double layer of terry towelling on the inside. This is how they look:

I imagine they will not be terribly absorbent, but I got them more for the idea than for using. When I have to wear adult clothes that are not suitable for wearing a nappy under I can wear these and still be a toddler.

I've also ordered some plastic pants from them, they carry my favourite design and are quite cheap. I like plastic pants with enclosed elastics, I find they leak less. They look like this:

My stomach is still not in perfect condition. I can only eat very small meals without feeling sick. It doesn't seem that the operation to fix my hiatus hernia was terribly effective in the end. This has resulted in me continuing to lose weight. This is good because more and more of my clothes now fit, including my old onesies.

Onesies are great for general-purpose wearing. They stop nappies from hanging down and drooping. Because they also hold one's nappies tight they also reduce the potential for leaks. You can get them from Diaperstation. I think normal t-shirt designs are better than the lap-shoulder design as they are not really suitable for very large toddlers.

People have often asked me if my friends and family know I am an AB; they do. I decided I wasn't going to feel ashamed by something which does no one any harm. By now guests are used to Butter coming out of the bedroom as the evening gets later. I still do this even though Butter usually gets stolen by someone.

I had a friend staying with me last night. He didn't seem at all phased by me mooching around in a sleeper, making rustling noises, this morning. Nor was he perturbed by me changing into my day clothes: nursery-printed overalls and a nursery-printed shirt.

I have never had a bad response when I have told anyone. Perhaps I am lucky in that most of my friends and family are open-minded, educated types, but I think if people like you they are not going to stop liking you because you have unusual underwear.

I am back in pretty good form as far as eating and drinking go so I was pleased to be able to drink wine for the first time in a while last night. I didn't finish the bottle. This afternoon a friend popped around and we finished last night's bottle then popped another. It was incredibly dull and very disappointing. This made me unhappy and annoyed that I had purchased a poor bottle. Needless to say after a few glasses of wine my nappy was rather wet and I was squirming a bit. My friend finally left, leaving me still hacked off about the poor wine, and I could finally get a change. The simple application of a dry nappy really cheered me right up. I am a lot less bothered by the poor wine now I am comfortable in a fresh nappy.

Whilst I was in hospital my order from diaperstation arrived. I got a couple of things, firstly a 'lap' style onesie with a rather nice teddy bear print on it:

This is the first lap-neck style onesie I have purchased, it does seem to be a rather large hole for one's head. Perhaps better for smaller toddlers rather than huge ones like me. The second thing I got was a nursery-printed t-shirt:

They may not be incredibly cheap, but the diaperstation nursery-print designs are good and the clothes are of a generally high standard.

If anyone is interested, this is the state on my chest after being operated on:

I am all alone in the flat so it is time to change into something more comfortable. Namely, a big cloth nappy and a nursery-printed shirt:

Not the best of pictures, but you can probably tell that a nappy of that size will last me a while.

Another early morning, another wet night-time nappy. I am pleased it is cooling off here during the night, I feel less sweaty sleeping in a nappy and a sleeper. Sadly the cleaner is coming today so I cannot really mooch around the flat in just a nappy and a t-shirt as I normally would. At least the flat will get nice and clean.

There is cricket on the box at the moment, the ICC Champions Trophy. This means many hours sat in front of the television with only short breaks at the end of each over. If I were not a toddler my consumption of invigorating beverages would mean that I ran the risk of missing something important. However, as I am a toddler I can sit cuddling Butter with no need to get up to go to the toilet; nappies take care of that.

I really like wearing nappies, they make me feel happy, safe and secure. I am quite pleased that I have lost a bit of weight recently so I can fit into medium size nappies again. The large size were always just a bit too big for me (even though I am a very big toddler) and ran the risk of slipping down and possibly leaking. A snug fit with medium size nappies means I will not leak and my sofa is safe from dampness.

At the moment I am wearing an Abena Abri-Form X-Plus (which British readers can get from Beaucare Medical). These are very absorbent and don't have too much branding on them so they look more like little babies' nappies. They are great for wearing at night. I'd normally wear Tena Slip Maxis during the day, but I have run out.

I was looking through my clothes, got to a back of a rarely-opened draw and found these:

I think teddy pyjamas are rather fetching. And that is not fetching as in 'fetching up one's dinner'.

One of the most common side-effects of taking anti-psychotics is that one gets very hungry. With the last lot I was taking I ended up weighing over 110kg, far too much. None of my spiffy suits fitted and many of my baby clothes got too tight.

Oddly, even though I am on a very high dose of the current stuff, I am hardly hungry at all. I don't have lunch, don't eat much for dinner. This has resulted in me losing enough weight to fit into my clothes again. I am very pleased that my Oshkosh shortalls are now wearable.

I'll have to try on my two Paul Smith suits and see if they fit. They are incredibly smart and well-designed; I look like a serious adult when I wear them. I know it is hard to imagine that I might occasionally be a serious adult, but sometimes one has to go to wine-tastings, you know?

I am pouting petulantly and being generally awkward today, or at least for the next five hours. Butter the lovely teddy bear is having a bath, and it'll be five hours until he is clean and dry. I want Butter now! I suppose I will have to make do with Fluffy Bat until he is ready.

I've had an email from a friend who will be at the Adult Baby Club this weekend. Much nicer when there are people there one can speak to.

This weekend I am going to the Adult Baby Club that runs here in London once a month. It has been an age since I last went; things just keep me too busy. There is a very ugly website that has information about it here. Do say "Hello" if you see me there.

It is already 33C today, so I've just been wearing a nappy all day. Needless to say, I forgot the gas man was coming around and so I felt a tad under-dressed to answer the door. The only clothes I had to hand were my nursery-printed trousers and a Teletubbies t-shirt. As is usual with such events he didn't seem to notice what I was wearing, he didn't even seem to notice the crinkling of my nappy.

My short-term dose of tranquilisers runs out today. I am sitting around relaxing with Butter wearing baby clothes. People are often surprised when I say I go out in baby clothes but I have just been shopping in nursery-printed overalls and a nursery-printed t-shirt. Nothing bad happened, and I live in quite a scary part of London.

I should be able to relax a bit more over the weekend as the partner will not be at work. On Monday I see the doctor so I might be able to score some more tranquilisers if things have deteriorated again.

The Adult Baby Club (aka ABC) here in London has re-started. It takes place on the third Saturday on the month in The Underground club near King's Cross station. I intend to attend on the 17 June so do say 'Hello' should you drop by.

Earlier this evening I went to the cinema with my partner to watch Curious George. It was remarkably good for a young children's film, far less banal than the last one I watched (The Magic Roundabout). George was very cute, and I quite liked the yellow hat.

I ordered a body shaving kit from Amazon the other day. It is a bit slow but seems effective. Here you can see my legs half-way through trying it out.

This specifically claims not to cause a shaving rash. I hope their claim is accurate.

The anti-psychotics and anti-depressants I take at night are really powerfully sedating. This is great as it means I am getting a decent amount of sleep at the moment. A lovely lie-in is now a distinct possibility. The only problem this causes is when I am knocked-up early by someone on the telephone or at the door. This happened this morning.

I was not too annoyed to have my slumber disturbed as I knew it would be a delivery of wine. So I got out of bed in my new sleeper, making crinkly plastic noises with each step to open the door. The delivery person didn't seem to notice my sleep attire so wine was duly delivered.

One of the two bottles delivered was a magnum; a one and one half litre bottle, so double the normal bottle size. I really like magnums, they are such a happy size. They are good for two people at lunch or as part of a baroque feast at night.

The other item of clothing that arrived yesterday was a footed sleeper with dinosaur prints:

I ordered this because the feet fell apart on my favourite sleeper. I mentioned this to Marcie of Forever a kid and she suggested I cut the feet off it and make it into a footless sleeper. She kindly sent some ribbing in with my order for the ankle cuffs. I managed to sew them on quite well:

I was a touch perturbed by the high acidity in that margarita.

I am off to Sweden for a few days at the end of next week. Last time I was there it was about this time of year and frighteningly cold; even my tweed jacket couldn't keep me warm. This time I have taken steps to ensure I am nice and toasty. I placed an order a few weeks ago with Forever a kid that included a great sleeper and this dinosaur-printed t-shirt:

The t-shirt is made from fleece material so it very warm indeed. I should be able to wear it as underwear and never feel the cold.

I am sure a picture of the sleeper will follow in due course.

I couldn't have had this kind of drink this when I was a smaller toddler:

I was so keen to open this that I was faster than the exposure time of the camera.

Butter looks most impressed by the flourish with which I popped the bottle. It was a very nice drink; childhood 2.0 certainly has its advantages.

One of the good things about being a big toddler is that I do not have arbitrary restrictions on what I am allowed to do. An example of this is spraying so much aerosol cream into my mouth that it overflows:

Mmmm... cream, sloo.

I suppose that I could be classfied as experiencing Childhood 2.0, the enhanced version of childhood.

After a quick check of the ABC website I find that it has now stopped running. Bugger. I need new entertainment for Saturday.

There is an Adult Baby club here in London that operates once a month. Details can be found here. I've only been once before, but I fancy going this weekend. Do say 'hello' if you see Butter and me there.

There was a knock at the door this morning whilst I was still in bed. I opened the door in my nursery-printed sleeper to find a delivery man there. He had two cases of nappies all for me. This is handy because tomorrow I am having my first real injection of the anti-psychotic that can cause incontinence. Be prepared!

I know it has been alluded to here in the past but I have medical problems beyond a hiatus hernia and high blood pressure. I am also schizophrenic.

The first of my recent admissions to hospital was after I took a massive overdose with the aim of killing myself. The second was because I was so suicidal I couldn't be trusted out of hospital. I see things that are not there and hear voices. I am also quite paranoid. The reason my blog entries are so short is because I lack the concentration span to write anything longer.

I haven't mentioned this directly before because I don't think it helps other ABs to think we are all luridly insane. I would much rather ABs felt happy with themselves and realise they are doing nothing wrong. I think I am not a good example.

I feel pretty bad about 'coming out' like this. Things are really bad at the moment and I am finding it really hard to achieve anything.

An ASBO is an Anti-Social Behaviour Order, the British government's way of locking people up without sending them to court.

After a particularly irritating conversation with someone earlier I am reproducing an entry from a year ago. Hopefully venting this spleen will make me feel a bit better.

---

Several times over the past few days I have found myself witnessing, and far too often getting drawn into, the conversation of which an early line is, "I do not wear nappies outside in case someone notices." I call this 'crap' and it gets me very irritated because:

1. Who goes around examining people's underwear terribly closely? Ignoring the fact that modern disposables are so discreet one would have to wear a spandex jumpsuit and walk around on one's hands for people to notice a nappy, how many streets have you walked down and heard strangers passing casual comments to each other on their underwear? Honestly.
2. The stunning arrogance of these people. Given the virtual impossibility of detecting a nappy under clothes some people seem to assume that they have some special place at the centre of the community/universe and so are under constant surveillance with all their activities posted in the newspaper and discussed by the populace at large. Should it be noticed by the cameras in the black vans that they are wearing underwear most commonly associated with a medical problem they will be openly ridiculed in the street leading to the collapse of society.

Perhaps they are worthy of ridicule, but because of their failure to engage their brains rather than because they like to wear nappies.

Then we reach the people who say thing along the lines of, "Well, I am happy just to be a baby in my own home. Of course, if anyone visits I hide all of my stuff and spend the evening sweating with terror in case I open the wrong cupboard or let something slip." This is certainly a mode of operation, but by adopting it one is doing a dis-service to several groups of people:

1. Themselves. By hiding all of their stuff the re-enforce the view that they are doing something wrong and shameful. If you are a normal person, with a job, friends, a collection of good jokes about bananas and so on, you do not really do yourself many favours by twisting yourself up with existential angst in case someone sees the teddy bear in your bed. Not good strategy for long-term mental well-being.
2. Their guests. It does not matter if it is your mother or the gas-man these are generally ordinary people, much as we are all generally ordinary people. Ordinary people are pretty much aware that other ordinary people do a variety of things and, whilst they may be initially surprised to discover that you are a bit more of a rich and interesting ordinary person than they initially thought, you are still and ordinary person with whom they can interact in ways they normally would. Simply demonstrating another facet to your ordinary life, if worthy of any value-judgement at all, is an act of enlightenment for others demonstrating a new way that ordinary people pass the time.
3. Other babies of enhanced magnitude. This pretty much follows on from the above. Since most large babies are just ordinary people, demonstrating that large babies are ordinary people is only going to help other babies realise that they are ordinary people too. If the only postmen one sees paint their faces purple and spray lemon juice in your eyes when delivering letters you are going to assume that postmen are a pretty weird bunch. Since most postmen just get on with their jobs like normal people (ie. in a half-arsed, feckless sort of way, perhaps this is just how people do jobs in Britain) one has the view that they are normal people.

This last point is demonstrated very clearly by the little boy next door's website. A few people have linked to his site with such comments as "Look at this person, he is a bit weird." I would concur, compared to most of the people that make such links he is a bit weird in that he has a successful relationship, lots of friends, can spell, has a sense of humour and earns huge amounts of money. His website demonstrates very clearly that nice, ordinary, successful people can show a variety of behaviours and there is nothing wrong with that. Of course, if these people met my friend in real life they would not dare say he was a bit weird to his face. This is an example of the internet lemma: Normal person + Anonymity + Audience = Rude, appalling, scumbag

The counter-arguments normally raised against such rationality take a variety of forms. Far too often one encounters people who cannot be bothered to read a few paragraphs and think about them. Many times I have been accused of demanding that all large babies run down their high-streets wearing only nappies and hitting people with their teddy bears. I most certainly do not demand such behaviour, I think that people should be left to get on with their lives as they see fit as long as they are not hurting anyone. I think getting hit with a teddy bear might well inconvenience someone, whereas the only inconvenience caused by me walking down the high-street in nappies under my baby clothes is if I do not change regularly and get rash. Certainly, when I have been working in jobs that require me to sound professional whilst taking blood samples from people I tend to wear a shirt and tie. Equally well, when my employment has had me shut in an office/lab with a limited bunch of other people then baby clothes seem an ideal way of dressing in order to assist with my relaxation and so perform my job frighteningly well.

The only very slightly more sophisticated version of this objection is that by wearing baby clothes one might be subject to verbal abuse, violence and arrest. Certainly, there will always be a microscopic proportion of people who feel it within their remit to shout incoherently at passers-by. We call these 'pitiable, angry, sad lunatics' and ignore them. I admit the amount of abuse I have received is so little that drawing a statistically valid conclusion is probably premature, but it does appear that I get more abuse walking through dodgy parts of London whilst in a spiffy suit than when wearing baby clothes. I suppose a large chap in a suit is more intimidating to the dregs of society than a large toddler. Much the same is true of violence, only it is vanishingly less likely to occur. Fear of arrest is quite odd, because I am not sure how wearing shortalls and a nursery-printed shirt breaks any laws. Perhaps in other countries, Iran possibly? Not here. If someone did set the rozzers on me claiming some mystic intelligence had told them I had child porn I'd welcome them into my home, make them tea, gladly assist them going through my computer, then bid them good day.

Then we come to the people who claim that wearing nappies is not a political issue for them. This does show a poor understanding of the words they use (see the title of this entry). However, much as it pains me to admit it, I am in many ways a New Labour toddler. I think that social responsibility is a good thing. If you cannot be bothered to stand up for those in your community, be they people in your neighbourhood watch group or other large babies, then you are letting the side down somewhat.

Finally, there are those people who do not want to feel like the normal, ordinary people they so clearly are; they like the guilt and get a cheap thrill from thinking they are shameful, bad and weird. The sad truth is that unless you are under a court order to wear nappies and baby clothes constantly you must be doing so because you want to and so because it is part of your personality; as it is the part of many ordinary people's personalities. If you want to feel guilty about doing a harmless activity that is a fundamental part of who you are you may as well feel embarrassed about buying food. True, I get a slight guilty pang when I buy double cream with the sole aim of pouring it on my breakfast cereal but I am well aware this is a silly feeling engendered by getting repeatedly smacked on the head with a bit of wood by the teachers at school when pouring too much evaporated milk on my dessert. They may have planted the seed of the idea that a tiny bit too much cream is bad, but I am well aware that it is a laughable idea. It certainly does not turn me on.

So, dear reader (Mrs. Trellis), should you ever feel doubt before heading down the boozer in a nappy, or when looking at the stack of nappy-boxes in the corner of your flat before your mother arrives, think for a moment. Realise that you are an enlightened, but above all normal person who has no reason to feel ashamed.

In the picture below I am sucking my dummy, a soother for American listeners. I haven't used it for weeks and now I've stuck it in my mouth it feels very good and I don't like taking it out. I shall have to see how I sleep tonight using it. I haven't been sleeping too well over recent days, hopefully this will soothe me into a blissful slumber.

For those who have not been reading this blog since it started you may not know that the dummy of choice for huge toddlers is the Nuk Medic Pro. These fit a treat and don't make one's teeth ache as dummies for smaller toddlers can do. The best source of them is here.

I am often asked what nappies I use; I may as well answer here.

During the day I use Tena Slip Maxis. These are very comfortable and hold quite a lot. They are also relatively baby-nappy-like with not too much branding on them. The European design is different to that of the Tena Slips available in the US and some claim they are better; an American AB who came over and stayed with me took a case of them back with him. They can be ordered direct from the manufacturer, whose UK website is here.

At night I use Abena Abri-Form X-Pluses. These are great for night-time use but the shape does not really lend itself to wearing during the day; we toddlers are an active bunch and run around a lot. Again these are quite babyish with not too much branding on them. You can buy Abenas from here.

I do have some cloth nappies, but because I am too toddlerish to handle the washing-machine with great skill I only use them when I fancy a lie-in. Cloth nappies are good, the bulk feels nice, but they do make me toddle around rather than my normal confident two year old's walk.

Here I am with Butter and Fluffy Bat modelling a Tena Slip Maxi that is just a bit too big for me. Perhaps I am a small toddler after all.

I've been prescribed some new drugs. Well, not new, I've taken them before. They are an anti-emetic but also cause constipation as a side effect. So effective were they last time I was taking them I could eat bread without throwing up or getting diarrhoea. This is a real plus; I hate being allergic to wheat and love eating bread. I shall celebrate with a sandwich when I've been taking them for a few days. The only side effect that I don't like is they make one terribly photo-sensitive. Should there be a bright and sunny day in the middle of winter I'll have to cover up. Luckily, I've got a hat.

I am feeling on top of the world today, just the mood to play with some toys:

I am playing with Quatro, the Lego for toddlers. It is large, slightly soft and non-toxic so me chewing on that brick doesn't matter too much.

I like to think I am quite a well adjusted toddler; I manage to fit baby stuff in with my life quite easily with no unhelpful interference or negative thoughts. Like all things, being an adult baby can lead to being less well adjusted. This person reported in the American Journal of Psychiatry seems less well adjusted. It is a shame when people allow things to control their lives in a manner that prevents them from functioning normally. Being an adult baby is undoubtedly not a mental illness, but it is a very compelling lifestyle that can dominate if one fails to have control in one's life. We all need control, be it to control the amount of money one spends or the amount one drinks; unfettered personality traits lead one into problems.

It is all very well buying adult baby clothes from an online retailer, but those crazy Italians have a chain of shops that sell nursery-printed, adult-sized clothes. Their website is here. Sadly they don't have an online shop, their stuff is rather good. Here I am sleeping peacefully in the sleeper I got from them:

I look rather florid in that picture. If anyone is looking to get a christmas present for me I'd like an 'accappatoio' from them.

... The champagne for tonight.

As you can see, Fluffy Bat has made a rare trip out of bed in order to soothe me in the difficult task of handling a magnum of fizz. It is Gratien 1996, by the way. It is lovely, I've had it before.

The cleaner is here again. As you can no doubt imagine, the words 'toddler' and 'cleaning' are not often used in the same sentence so I take no part in her impressive production of results. I am happy to hide in the computer room and let her get on with it all. I think I've put the dummies away and thrown out all of the old nappies so all is ready for her cleaning magic. I'll be smearing face paints up the wall later.

In a change to my normal highly intellectual listening (I was just listening to Cognoscenti vs. Intelligentsia by the Cuban Boys, for example) I've been provided with a new CD that contains a highly amusing song that has a reasonable number of resonances with my normal existence. Devendra Banhart's song "I feel just like a child" is understandably intelligible for me. I really understand a lot of the lyrics such as: Some people try and treat me like a man/They think I know shit/but thats just it/I'm a child. And when it comes down to to it I have to affirm the fact that, "From being my daddy's sperm to being packed in an urn I'm a child."

Butter has been with me for but nine months; given my toddler-like sense of object-permanence it seems like I've always had him. Obviously, as he is my main security object he has spent a lot of time with me: toddlers are not known for being sparkling-clean individuals so he has attracted a bit of grime in places. I would not dream of putting Butter is the washing-machine, he is too big and would never dry out. A non-drying security object has caused much heartache in the past. As a consequence, I decided to look for ways of cleaning soft toys (plush toys/animals for those of a more American vocabulary) and was pleased to find quite a comprehensive guide very rapidly. It sounds quite involved to me, and I may just have to let Butter continue to accumulate the residue of affection before I try anything so dramatic as scrubbing him with alcohol. I can see comedy value in having Butter stink like a distillery, though.

Fluffy Bat (ah, my first-ever security object, returned after years of being apart, and he is a real Fluffy Bat, not a sheet) is perfectly happy to have a bath in the washing machine, as he is quite a flat bat he dries with no problems and can soon be dragged to bed for hiding under-purposes. As you can see from this old picture, Fluffy Bat cleans up a treat with all drool marks removed after a sojourn in the washing machine. Takes some time after the bath to smell as soothing as he did before the bath, of course....

I just have not been in the mood to get very, very drunk of late. So I still have not had any good ideas as to what to put on toddlerism.com. I still favour some form of rant, but I need to think of both a theme and some relevant jokes. It'll come to me in the end.

William Windsor (aka Heidi) seems like a throughly fine, noble and up-standing baby. I recognise that the newspaper article linked-to there is attempting to claim that 'Person has happy, functioning life' is in some way news, but should Heidi manage to continue enjoying her life as she she sees fit then she would clearly be worthy of the esteem of truer toddlers than your humble provider of distracting links. Nill illigitimi carborundum, Heidi.

As I have explained I do have a bit of a thing for custard, so I have revisited the custard cocktail. The recipe requires:
1 shot Galliano
1 shot Advocaat
The rest of the 300ml baby bottle (this is my favourite type) topped up with vanilla favoured milk.
Shake well, drink whilst occasionally gurgling with happiness.

Whilst performing mixing experiments I decided to try on two items of clothing that might help me bond with one of my grown-up friends. He is a lovely Austrian chap who strangely wears little oval glasses and has shaved off what little remains of his hair. Hmmm.... Anyway, he also has a bit of a thing for the brand of clothing that has little polo ponies on them. Clearly, toddlers are not up to playing polo, or riding all but the smallest of ponies, so even if I did not hate that brand it would be dis-ingenuous of me to wear their attire. So, we have the onesie for toddlers who wish to be like their big, grown-up and incredibly well-paid short Austrian friends:

I recognise there is sometimes a need for long-sleeved t-shirts on particularly sunny days whilst staggering around wine regions, so there is also the lapel-label version:

I hope he realises that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Apricots.

Should a reader from the USA ever encounter this endless torrent of drivel they probably will not understand that joke. Allow me to explain by saying that a 'cot' is what an American will call a 'crib'. I always thought a crib is what a rap-artist called his/her (rarely her, let us be honest) abode.

The point is, after many years I have a cot once again:

If you need an excuse to fill a few minutes of your day using you employer's internet connection then please feel free to inspect a few more pictures located here.

Many thanks to Woodman Dave for his chippie skills. that he makes available for very reasonable prices.

Who would have expected it? The end of April and it is 20°C outside. Most unlike Blighty. It is days like this that I find myself glad I have a little terrace by the Thames, even if I do get dazzled whilst trying to have a drink out there.

The best news is that the temperature might reach such heady heights as 25°C this weekend. To prevent getting hot and bothered I may have to lose the t-shirt whilst catching some rays.

As I was staggering about London I noticed a problem with my new North-London intellectual/neo-Nazi thug/Romanian orphan look in that when it is cold and raining my head is suddenly less warm than once it was. I am not a big fan of being cold or rained upon, so was pleased when someone reminded me that I posses a hat.

I had purchased this solely to wear on my next skiing trip, yet as I have not been skiing for many, many years I wondered if I would ever get to use it. Now I have an incentive to stick with the haircut as next winter I will be able to walk around London using my teddy-bear ears to send jaunty signals to random passers-by.

As I mentioned eleven days ago, I have a really rather sore throat. It had started about a week before that so has been hanging around for quite a while now. It seemed reasonable to disturb my GP and check that I did not have tonsillitis or anything that required treatment beyond swilling anti-septic fluids with reasonable frequency. I finally got to see him on Friday. Sadly, he is a bit scared of me; he knows I have a doctorate in epidemiology which, coupled with me being considerably taller than him, he views as cause to be terrified when I burst into his surgery.

I asked him about my throat, he peered down there and said what must be the most moronic statement from a member of the medical profession to someone with reasonable insight into the nature of diseases: "Well, it is probably just a cold. Colds last a lot longer these days because they have evolved to be better than they were a few years ago." Perhaps he was just so scared he said the first load of drivel that popped into his mind in order to get me out, but perhaps he thinks that within a year or two rhinovirus will have evolved even more and so will wiping out huge swathes of the world's population because our immune systems, despite fighting these viruses for a very long time, can no-longer hold them back. "That is a very interesting story", was about as polite as I could manage after I'd gasped with incredulity.

So, there is the throbbing throat and also a late night out drinking cocktails yesterday. This morning I wanted to take things a bit easy and just play around in a soft, low-intensity sort of way.

A slightly less intense and considerably less verbose entry on this also summer-like afternoon. I have mentioned suppliers for Nuk Medic Pros, the dummies for huge babies, in the past. A friend tells me that there is another supplier who do not charge VAT for those who order from outside the boundaries of Europe. Additionally, they sell the large-sized Nuk bottle-teats, but I have found them to be a bit of a waste of time and money. Finally, they have their website in almost-English, thanks to the power of machine translation. You can find it here. A large-sized Nuk Medic Pro is a good way of soothing recalcitrant toddlers who are too busy waving their arms about with awkwardness to suck their thumbs. Well, it can work with me....

Several times over the past few days I have found myself witnessing, and far too often getting drawn into, the conversation of which an early line is, "I do not wear nappies outside in case someone notices." I call this 'crap' and it gets me very irritated because:

1. Who goes around examining people's underwear terribly closely? Ignoring the fact that modern disposables are so discreet one would have to wear a spandex jumpsuit and walk around on one's hands for people to notice a nappy, how many streets have you walked down and heard strangers passing casual comments to each other on their underwear? Honestly.
2. The stunning arrogance of these people. Given the virtual impossibility of detecting a nappy under clothes some people seem to assume that they have some special place at the centre of the community/universe and so are under constant surveillance with all their activities posted in the newspaper and discussed by the populace at large. Should it be noticed by the cameras in the black vans that they are wearing underwear most commonly associated with a medical problem they will be openly ridiculed in the street leading to the collapse of society.

Perhaps they are worthy of ridicule, but because of their failure to engage their brains rather than because they like to wear nappies.

Then we reach the people who say thing along the lines of, "Well, I am happy just to be a baby in my own home. Of course, if anyone visits I hide all of my stuff and spend the evening sweating with terror in case I open the wrong cupboard or let something slip." This is certainly a mode of operation, but by adopting it one is doing a dis-service to several groups of people:

1. Themselves. By hiding all of their stuff the re-enforce the view that they are doing something wrong and shameful. If you are a normal person, with a job, friends, a collection of good jokes about bananas and so on, you do not really do yourself many favours by twisting yourself up with existential angst in case someone sees the teddy bear in your bed. Not good strategy for long-term mental well-being.
2. Their guests. It does not matter if it is your mother or the gas-man these are generally ordinary people, much as we are all generally ordinary people. Ordinary people are pretty much aware that other ordinary people do a variety of things and, whilst they may be initially surprised to discover that you are a bit more of a rich and interesting ordinary person than they initially thought, you are still and ordinary person with whom they can interact in ways they normally would. Simply demonstrating another facet to your ordinary life, if worthy of any value-judgement at all, is an act of enlightenment for others demonstrating a new way that ordinary people pass the time.
3. Other babies of enhanced magnitude. This pretty much follows on from the above. Since most large babies are just ordinary people, demonstrating that large babies are ordinary people is only going to help other babies realise that they are ordinary people too. If the only postmen one sees paint their faces purple and spray lemon juice in your eyes when delivering letters you are going to assume that postmen are a pretty weird bunch. Since most postmen just get on with their jobs like normal people (ie. in a half-arsed, feckless sort of way, perhaps this is just how people do jobs in Britain) one has the view that they are normal people.

This last point is demonstrated very clearly by the little boy next door's website. A few people have linked to his site with such comments as "Look at this person, he is a bit weird." I would concur, compared to most of the people that make such links he is a bit weird in that he has a successful relationship, lots of friends, can spell, has a sense of humour and earns huge amounts of money. His website demonstrates very clearly that nice, ordinary, successful people can show a variety of behaviours and there is nothing wrong with that. Of course, if these people met my friend in real life they would not dare say he was a bit weird to his face. This is an example of the internet lemma: Normal person + Anonymity + Audience = Rude, appalling, scumbag

The counter-arguments normally raised against such rationality take a variety of forms. Far too often one encounters people who cannot be bothered to read a few paragraphs and think about them. Many times I have been accused of demanding that all large babies run down their high-streets wearing only nappies and hitting people with their teddy bears. I most certainly do not demand such behaviour, I think that people should be left to get on with their lives as they see fit as long as they are not hurting anyone. I think getting hit with a teddy bear might well inconvenience someone, whereas the only inconvenience caused by me walking down the high-street in nappies under my baby clothes is if I do not change regularly and get rash. Certainly, when I have been working in jobs that require me to sound professional whilst taking blood samples from people I tend to wear a shirt and tie. Equally well, when my employment has had me shut in an office/lab with a limited bunch of other people then baby clothes seem an ideal way of dressing in order to assist with my relaxation and so perform my job frighteningly well.

The only very slightly more sophisticated version of this objection is that by wearing baby clothes one might be subject to verbal abuse, violence and arrest. Certainly, there will always be a microscopic proportion of people who feel it within their remit to shout incoherently at passers-by. We call these 'pitiable, angry, sad lunatics' and ignore them. I admit the amount of abuse I have received is so little that drawing a statistically valid conclusion is probably premature, but it does appear that I get more abuse walking through dodgy parts of London whilst in a spiffy suit than when wearing baby clothes. I suppose a large chap in a suit is more intimidating to the dregs of society than a large toddler. Much the same is true of violence, only it is vanishingly less likely to occur. Fear of arrest is quite odd, because I am not sure how wearing shortalls and a nursery-printed shirt breaks any laws. Perhaps in other countries, Iran possibly? Not here. If someone did set the rozzers on me claiming some mystic intelligence had told them I had child porn I'd welcome them into my home, make them tea, gladly assist them going through my computer, then bid them good day.

Then we come to the people who claim that wearing nappies is not a political issue for them. This does show a poor understanding of the words they use (see the title of this entry). However, much as it pains me to admit it, I am in many ways a New Labour toddler. I think that social responsibility is a good thing. If you cannot be bothered to stand up for those in your community, be they people in your neighbourhood watch group or other large babies, then you are letting the side down somewhat.

Finally, there are those people who do not want to feel like the normal, ordinary people they so clearly are; they like the guilt and get a cheap thrill from thinking they are shameful, bad and weird. The sad truth is that unless you are under a court order to wear nappies and baby clothes constantly you must be doing so because you want to and so because it is part of your personality; as it is the part of many ordinary people's personalities. If you want to feel guilty about doing a harmless activity that is a fundamental part of who you are you may as well feel embarrassed about buying food. True, I get a slight guilty pang when I buy double cream with the sole aim of pouring it on my breakfast cereal but I am well aware this is a silly feeling engendered by getting repeatedly smacked on the head with a bit of wood by the teachers at school when pouring too much evaporated milk on my dessert. They may have planted the seed of the idea that a tiny bit too much cream is bad, but I am well aware that it is a laughable idea. It certainly does not turn me on.

So, dear reader (Mrs. Trellis), should you ever feel doubt before heading down the boozer in a nappy, or when looking at the stack of nappy-boxes in the corner of your flat before your mother arrives, think for a moment. Realise that you are an enlightened, but above all normal person who has no reason to feel ashamed.

Of the limited selection of clothes for babies and toddlers of enhanced stature that are easily available it seems that very few of them are suitable for rolling about outside on wintry days. This is a pity when one lives in as cold a place as England.

I admit that many outdoor-activity styled clothes for boring adults can now be purchased in a variety of bright colours and this is a good start. Yet, bright colours are not teddy bears/little ducks/other nursery prints. My Butter-themed sweater is a good item of wintry clothing, but more is required. So, it goes without saying that the item of clothing delivered yesterday is just perfect for wearing in the summer...

Today is a nice and bright day, but to describe it as summery would be be displaying more than a hint of mendacity. The alphanumeric characters on the romper signify, I hope, that even though I am a toddler I am also a man of letters.

A big problem with insomnia is that it can be perilously dull. Once you've checked every website in the entire world for updates twice already, had a look in the fridge again to see if something nice has appeared in there since last time you looked you reach the dreadful conclusions that all that can fill in the time is doing some work.

After composing a long, artfully-sculpted but quite amusing tract for your next publication you look at the clock just to check how large a chunk of the day has passed only to find it is still five in the morning. The word that springs to mind after vast intellectual energy expenditure directed at composing text of some merit that people will actually pay to read, possibly assuming it is not written by a comedy-type of person, only to find that nineteen hours of the day still stretch in front of one can only be, "Bugger".

This is where it is handy that I am a toddler and so easily amused. Hours can disappear watching my Miffy or Teletubbies DVDs. I really like Miffy as she shows it is fine to be terribly childish, even when some people are deluded enough to think you are really quite old. She is also a brilliant minimalist design icon. Anyway, today's five o'clock entertainment has been and a good old standby, playing with Butter.

Aldous Huxley, author of 'The doors of perception' and 'Brave new world' made the very good point that:
A child-like man is not a man whose development has been arrested; on the contrary, he is a man who has given himself a chance of continuing to develop long after most adults have muffled themselves in the cocoon of middle-aged habit and convention.

I could not agree more. As evidence I present a picture of myself in the South of France on my last vaguely significant birthday (do not, under any circumstances, follow the link).

Now, as far as development of my child-like, indeed toddler-like, self goes we have a picture of me feeling particularly charged with dark power during my last dinner party but one:

As you can see, there has clearly been a lot of development. I now have a glass of wine to hold (whereas I'd drunk all of the wine before the top-most picture was taken). I also have a lovely, non-grime-themed teddy bear and underwear that hides my shame. If those are not several signs of increasing development, I may as well give up now.

One of the questions I am frequently asked is, "Tell me, young man, do you wear nappies all of the time?" I admit, it is rarely asked that coherently. The usual formulation is of the pattern: "You/u wear/ware/where/were 27/7?" but sometimes it can reach the depths of a simple: "24/7?". I am a toddler with little grasp of novel language use, sometimes I find such things vexatious. To answer the question, no I do not wear nappies all of the time, sometimes when I want to feel like an even bigger toddler I wear training pants.

More broadly, it is a mistake to wear nappies for too long each day; there is much danger of developing a nasty rash. When I was working twenty-four hour days as an academic I would rarely get a chance for some 'air-time' and so developed rash that was so bad my nasties were bleeding. I imagine few twenty-one year olds go to the doctor to seek treatment for appallingly bad nappy rash; it was piquant experience to say the least.

The key is to have a couple of breaks from wearing nappies during the day. After a bath or shower is a good time, as is between changes just before bed. They do not have to be for too long (just in case) but a break and a clean up can prevent sharp, stabbing soreness and an unnecessary trip to the doctor.

I have to admit I rarely feel up the the very big toddler-rôle; I get all shy and embarrassed about people expecting me to be witty, urbane and slightly less childish than I usually am. Consequently, wearing the training pants can lead to hiding....

Last night I was lucky enough to have the pleasure of the company of my next door neighbour. Sadly, Butter was clearly feeling dissolute and so soon began to corrupt we toddler-types.

At least he appeared to be enjoying the vastly expensive tequilla I scored. Butter, as I may have suggested, is a big teddy bear who normally looks after me; after he had set such a bad example I just felt I had to pop a bottle of wine. Since it was a rich and hearty, winter-esque sort of red wine we were charged with enough energy to spend a while watching life's passing parade from my balcony.
 

As it was such a warm night we were there until quite late letting Butter and Ted wave and sing incoherent songs at people as they walked past. Honeestly! What kind of message does this send to impressionable minds?

Mind you, I was quite excited in a childish manner for being allowed to stay up late. Naturally, I soon got tired and started getting grumpy, but I am easy to convince to belt up and after such a soothing send-off to the evening I slept. Three cheers for a baby bottle before bed!

 

As I have mentioned in the past, I am off to a Lemon Jelly concert. It is happening tonight. As you are probably unaware, Lemon Jelly produced a rather jolly ditty called 'Nice weather for ducks'; I feel this leaves me little option but to wear this to the concert:

You may note I am picking up Fluffy Bat with a reasonable degree of enthusiasm. This is not because I dropped him, but rather because he jumped out of my hands. Clearly, toddlers would never dream of carelessly discarding their security objects, unless they get distracted, but sometimes when it is pointed out that they appear to have been thoughtlessly cast-aside it must be explained that it was the teddy bear/blanket/bat's own fault they are on the floor. This may be because we toddlers do not wish to appear ungrateful for the hard work our security objects put in, or it may be because animals leaping around is just completely hilarious. This can be demonstrated by a very short clip from a popular British comedy program of the 1970s, The Goodies. I am told it is a .wmv file for reasons of space rather than to exclude people with minority operating systems.

There are but a few days before I leave my little island for a considerably larger one. This means the next few days will feature furious washing, ironing of shirts, buying plug-adaptors and pain-killers, trying to fit two styles of attire and plenty of nappies into limited luggage space, buying more luggage, trying to find my passport, running around lifting up very small bits of paper in an increasingly desperate mood just in case my passport is hidden under them and much, much more.

As luck would have it, I am a toddler and so can often manage feats of boundless energy. Some people fancy a lie-in after a busy night of playing, I can get up at frightening times of morning in order to watch children's programs with the volume turned up to one hundred decibels. After washing sheets and hanging them on the line it may be that a nice sit-down and a cup of tea is in order, another alternative is to run up and down the washing-line, squealing with pleasure and beating the sheets with a stick that has been dipped in mud.

Butter, on the other hand, is a grown-up teddy bear. This is useful as it means he can look after me and keep me out of trouble. However, it does mean that at advanced hours of the evening he just feels a bit jaded, spent and generally in need of a bit of relaxation.

He does look rather dissolute.

Yet, as luck would have it, due to the current weakness of the dollar keeping myself in childish clothes is hilariously cheaper than keeping me in my alternate attire idiom of baroque suits and shirts.

Foreverakid, my current favourite clothing supplier, is not only run by one of the most charming and most skillful seamstresses one can have the pleasure of doing business with, but also the clothes (at least for those of us in the UK) are a steal. For example, if I buy a pair of boring cords from Marks and Spencer I'll pay £32, I'll have to pay quite a lot more if I want some decent cords that fit reasonably well. Yet the trousers in the picture below cost £23. Not only are they made to measure, from a material of my choice but I look just as spiffy in them as in my most lurid red cords. Since they are made from flannel they are warm enough to wear when strolling about town on all but terribly cold days.

Similarly, Fak sell their most babyish shortalls for £28 and those most wonderful of items for sleeping, mooching about the house and watching boats going by on the river in (see below), footed sleepers, for £40. A decent set of pyjamas in the UK can cost an arm and a leg, they are invariably dull as dish-water and never have feet. I am currently trying a new source of footed sleepers that cost £30 each, and they are available in childish prints, but I shall report on that supplier once I have assessed the quality.

I recognise that these bargain prices are largely because of the relative weakness of the US dollar at the moment and also because clothes in the UK are very expensive, but we big and clever toddlers are perfectly capable of spotting bargains and snapping them up whilst they are available.

Clearly, there are some companies who are willing to rip people off in the most shameful way; DPF and HB Enterprises leap to mind, but this is not universally true. Shop around, ask for recommendations and you can do very well.

There is a limit to the number of baths one can usefully have in a day and my email is hardly going to read itself...

From today's postbag I learn the reason why babies are so confused these days. Much as I like the prints on them, it is a good job I no longer fit into Pampers. We are told that if one were taped around me, due to the evil influence of their morally-corrupt manufacturer, I would instantly develop an uncontrollable urge to do the chocolate cha-cha with such frightening frequency I'd never have the time to wear another nappy. Yes, I admit it is quite childish to mock the hard of thinking, but it is a lot of fun.

I am also asked if I know where one can obtain pushchairs (aka strollers) for babies of enhanced magnitude. Clearly, my co-respondent is unaware that I am a big, competent toddler and so have no need of pushchairs. Indeed, the only problem I have with self-locomotion is if some clumsy swine steps on my hand when I am leaving a bar. Still, I have the mystic power of using Google and as it is around three I have nothing better to do. Adult pushchairs can be obtained in the UK and the US. Given the quite staggering cost of these, if anyone out there purchases one I am sure you can afford to lend me an Ayrton or at least buy me a Britney.

As I sit here after lunch, still in the cloth nappy from last night, it strikes me how practical a good pair of plastic pants can be.

Clearly, a lot babies and toddlers are charmed/soothed/entertained by their own Platonic ideal of the protective pant. Some like rubber pants, some vinyl, some like nursery prints. Yet, since babies and toddlers have to wear nappies pretty much all of the time (not, ideally, when in the bath) having some practical, functional pants is a good idea, even if aesthetic criteria have to take a second place.

Even if you generally view yourself as a disposable kid, plastic pants are still useful. I have yet to come across a disposable that does not weep slightly, and modern disposables are so good at holding fluid away from the skin it can be hard to tell when we need a change and may end up leaking without noticing it. This can result in getting grumpy, petulant and having to do more washing, so is best avoided.

The primary key to doing well with one's plastic pants is sizing. Most purveyors of plastic pants give a range sizes that each of their stock sizes will fit. You should choose a size that you are right in the middle of the size bracket. Whilst some people like really tight or really large plastic pants these will either cut the circulation off to your legs (more petulance) or leak like crazy (even more petulance and washing). The pants have to be reasonably voluminous, as when one is restless in bed, runs about at playgroup/the gallery or thrashes about on the floor giggling and squealing whilst being tickled it is possible for nappies to slip under less well-sized pants. For daytime use as long as the fit is fine, you can get by with pretty much any design. Nursery prints are often nice, but if one is just hanging around with friends at home then it doesn't matter if you have clear pants and your nappy is on display. After all, they know you are a baby/toddler.

In my experience, plastic pants are pretty much mandatory for night-time use and, of course, when one is wearing a cloth nappy. Since no disposable manufacturer is yet to cater for those of us who sleep on our sides plastic pants are a much better solution to washing the bed sheet incredibly frequently. These events demand the most effective plastic pants, which are the ones that have enclosed elastic. These have a much better seal and leak far less then even well-fitting pants with normal elastics. My favourite supplier can be found here. They are reliable, affordable and have a good range of stuff. These are the enclosed-elastic plastic pants; as you can see they are made from the 'softwear' material which is perfectly comfortable. If I had planned things a bit better, I'd have ordered a few more pairs before my trip to the US. Ah well. LLMedico also sell rather nice nursery-printed cloth-covered plastic pants that are useful for hot days when one wants to look a bit smarter. Not so smart that I have to iron my Teletubbies t-shirt though, oh no, far too much like hard work....

They are particularly bad if one has no shoes. Since toddlers are known for running about, dragging their feet along the floor and generally leaping around in a full of beans style, it is no surprise that all of the soles on my shoes are full of holes. All of my shoes were delivered to the cobbler this morning, and so I am pretty much stuck in the house all day. There is nothing for it but to play!

As you can see, Quatro really is quite a lot of fun. You may also note my Butter-themed sweatshirt, which came to me via the power of money combined with the skills of clothes printing companies. It is good to have a nice and warm, hooded sweat-shirt that was very cheap, has Butter's face on the front and some teddy-bear prints on the back.

All of this was very easy to obtain. I used this company, uploaded my images and four days later I had the sweater. I am sure there are companies in other countries that do a similarly good job. There are limits to the complexity of the images one can print, but the result is very high-quality, washer/drier proof and cheers up even recalcitrant toddlers on rainy days.

I have sucked my thumb for more-or-less my entire life and, quite clearly, I am very happy with that. About a decade ago it struck me that it might be more convenient if I used a dummy, as typing one-handed is less efficient as well as sounding slightly suggestive.

I soon realised that convenience was not the idea behind sucking my thumb. Being a right-handed chap, the result of sticking my right thumb in my mouth is that two of my most powerful methods of influencing the world around me are removed; my adult competence was hampered. This has a pleasingly childish feel.

Sadly, rich fantasy lives cannot be indulged totally. Several years ago my career became more related to sitting at home in front of the computer. It would be all too easy to sit here all day with my thumb in my mouth and no creativity flowing from my finger-tips. So I've got a dummy....

The trick is not to get one provided by a fetish-items supplier, these are just not designed for normal use. Nuk, that well-know supplier of goods for smaller babies makes a couple of dummies suitable for adults. These are known as "Nuk Medic Pro". It is possible to get them on Ebay, but the cheapest thing is to order them from the country of manufacture, from a site such as this. Strangely, when I have pointed people to this site they say, "I don't speak German", and give up. Odd, I find, as we have such things as babelfish these days and a dummy can soothe even quite awkward babies and so is worth experiencing a tiny bit of confusion and expending the merest hint of energy to obtain.

It may take one a week or so to get used to a dummy, but they work a treat. When one wakes in the middle of night after a scary dream, knowing you've got a dummy in your mouth, a teddy bear in your arms and you are protected in case of accidents, the bad dreams seem less worrying.