All My Mother's Rules

Chapter 11: Discovery

I had never been more attuned to my bodily functions than in the past week. Every waking moment was spent trying to decipher what my bladder was trying to tell me. Was it time to pee? Already? Again? Could I hold off for a little bit longer or did I need to sprint to the toilet right away?

At this point, I'd have had better luck trying to understand Chinese than whatever messages my bladder was sending. It was a little over a week since my disastrous attempt at wearing panties during cheerleading practice and the ensuing accident in the porta potty. I'd had a pull-up on almost every moment since. And I need the pull-ups I was taking from my little sister. There was no more room whatsoever for denial about what was happening with my body. Not a single school day has passed without me wetting myself, including one more time during cheerleading practice. The only thing standing between me and everyone knowing about the wetting issue were the pull-ups.

I felt like a secret agent in a spy film every time I disguised my pull-up for cheerleading practice. I kept whatever clothing I was going to wear for the practice in my backpack. Then, after my last class, I would changed into those clothes with a dry pull-up in a restroom before heading to the locker room ready to begin practice. Once it was over, I went to one of the toilet stalls in the locker room, took off the pull-up, and buried it in the trash before going to shower. I had panties on for the briefest time after showering, but I used an empty restroom to change back into a pull-up before Mom picked me up to go home. The process was exhausting, but I wasn't taking any chances with my bladder.

At home I'd been having much better luck with avoiding accidents, thanks in part to the continuing efforts to potty train Emilia. I was still taking her to the toilet every thirty minutes when the potty-training alarm went off on her watch. I let her do her business, and as soon as I sent her back to play, I would hop on the toilet myself. The routine was humiliating, but it was better than peeing myself. That wasn't to say I hadn't wet a pull-up a couple of times at home, but not nearly as often as I'd done at school.

I was trying to avoid going through too many pull-ups, which wasn't that hard since Mom rarely changed Emilia. Since I was the one who did the changing, I was responsible for telling Mom when it was time to order another box of pull-ups from Amazon, and I didn't want her to get suspicious if we started to go through them way too fast.

The only area of success with my potty training has been at night. I'd managed to avoid a repeat of my lone bedwetting accident by rigorously monitoring how much I drink in the evening, making sure to cut off my liquids early, and use the toilet immediately before getting in bed. While I'd woken up in a dry bed and pull-up every night, there had been a couple of times where the urge to pee has gotten me out of bed and in search of the toilet in the wee hours of the morning.

I wish that I could say that potty training was going better for Emilia than it had been for me, but that wasn't the case. She's not had a single dry day either, and she's woken up with a soaked diaper each morning. In just the last week, Mom has had to put her back in diapers on two separate occasions during the day. Like me, I felt as though my sister was also giving up on potty training. It was all I could do to keep from blushing when Mom told Emilia that she needed to be a big girl and use the potty like her older sister. And now I had a sleepover to worry about.

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"I still can't believe your mom was really letting you come over for a sleepover," Samantha said as she took a seat at our table in the cafeteria.

Our moms had talked the night before. Mom had been insistent that she get to know Samantha's parents at least a little bit before finally signing off on the sleepover at their place. The fact that Samantha's Mom was a well-respected lawyer gave her an advantage in assuring Mom that I'd be taken care of just fine while spending the night at their house. The sleepover was officially official. I would be going over to Samantha's house tomorrow night after the Fortnite team tryout that I'd convinced Mom to let me take part in.