Sam's Crawl To Adulthood

Chapter Description: Sam is being watched. When taken home by Isabelle, Sam is asked how her day had gone before receiving some surprising news... (Sorry this update is a little shorter. We'll be back to normal length next week :)) --- Commissioned by: diaperboy187

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The woman was sitting in a black SUV in the car lot opposite the large pre-school. She lifted a disposable polystyrene cup that was still steaming from the coffee inside. Cars were occasionally slowing down as they approached the gates opposite and then turning in. The woman saw parents getting out of the cars and walking through the doors, a few minutes later they would come back with a child in their arms.

The woman’s heart ached every time she saw a mother or father come out of the building with a little boy or girl. Each time it felt like she was being stabbed by a fresh blade as she saw them enjoying what she had, what she should still have and what she would one day have again.

The overwhelming instinct the woman felt was to get out of the car, run across the street, grab her girl and drive off into the sunset. She had to resist those urges brought on by maternal instinct. She had to bide her time. Rushing in would be a fool’s errand.

The woman leaned forward in her seat and held the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles went white. She saw the other woman. The one who had taken her little girl away from her. She watched unblinkingly as this thief walked into the building completely unaware that she was being watched. For the next few minutes the woman waited, she barely dared to breathe as she watched the entrance to the building like a hawk.

“There you are…” The woman said to herself.

The other woman had walked back out of the building with a stroller. Putting up her binoculars the woman felt her heart skip a beat. Her little girl was sitting happily with a dolly tucked in next to her. She was smiling and seemed engaged in trying to get her foot in her mouth.

The woman felt another rush of emotions telling her to get over there and make things right. Every moment without her girl was a crushing pain that she couldn’t bear. She lowered her binoculars and for the first time since she had pulled up in her car that morning she looked away. Her time would come.

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“How was your day?” Issy asked. Her tone making it sound like she was talking to a co-worker rather than someone who was functionally a little girl, not that Sam minded too much.

“Fine.” Sam replied from her highchair. She was being allowed to feed herself and was concentrating on not spilling any of her food on to her bib, “I did painting with Olivia and then we played with dollieth. Then we did wordth and numberth…”

“And how did you do with those?” Isabelle seemed much more interested in this side of Sam’s day rather than her playing.

“Bad.” Sam replied sadly.

“Oh.” Isabelle sighed.

“I don’t know them!” Sam exclaimed crossly, “B-But I do!”

Whenever Sam had sat down in front of paper with letters and numbers on she experienced such a strange sensation. She knew she had once been able to read and do basic math but now it was like a foreign language. She found herself looking at short words and seeing nothing but a mess of squiggly lines that made no sense to her. She traced out and copied letters without understanding their meanings, if she tried to write on her own all she could manage was a scribble. She even found herself copying Olivia’s answers several times, having to cheat by looking at a small child’s answers did little for her self-confidence but it was better than the humiliation of being revealed as not knowing even the very basics when Carol checked her work.

For Sam the next few weeks were exhausting and frustrating but also a little rewarding. Despite her many frustrations she was actually making some progress. She had grown a lot more comfortable walking and although she still fell over from time to time she could also walk around without having to grab anything to keep herself upright.

Perhaps the most obvious example of Sam’s progress was her speech. Her vocabulary had extended from a few short words to something more akin to a slightly older girl. Whether it was the conditioning wearing off or just hearing all the other children talking the way they did Sam didn’t know but progress was progress. She still had the infantile lisp that she hated so much but she was actually feeling good and it gave her hope that she could actually get back to the young woman she used to be.

“And, erm, any progress with…” Isabelle hesitated. She wasn’t at all comfortable talking to children and it showed, “Your potty training?”

Sam looked down at the tray in front of her head and shook her head sadly. She suspected Isabelle already knew that she was still struggling on that front since she had to consistently change her, the potty that had been bought expecting progress still sitting unused in the corner of Sam’s room. It’s pristine shininess a constant reminder of Sam’s lack of progress.

This would usually be where a caring parent would encourage and praise the progress that had been made. An arm around the shoulder and a special treat for trying so hard. When Sam looked up she saw Issy looking away in disappointment and with pursed lips. Knowing that she was trying the patience of the person looking after her didn’t help matters. Sam had been trying to make it to the potty but she just… couldn’t. Her muscles weren’t strong enough to keep her bladder in check long enough to make it.

“And you are trying?” Isabelle asked coldly.

“Yeth!” Sam fired back angrily. Her bottom lip quivered. Of course she was trying!

“Alright, no need to shout.” Isabelle replied tersely, “I just would’ve expected some improvement by now.”

It was yet another example of Isabelle’s lack of experience as a parent. Sam hung her head causing one of her pigtails to end up dipped in her food. To be fair to Isabelle she had never actually wanted children and almost certainly would’ve never seen herself in the position she was now in but that was scant consolation for Sam who felt even more pressure pile on to her.

“Well… There’s going to be a change in a week or so.” Isabelle said as she put down her knife and fork, “I think it’s about time we move you on from the pre-school.”

“Huh?” Sam frowned. She didn’t FEEL ready to move on from where she was. As much as she wanted to get through everything and become an adult again she was very aware of her lack of progress in most areas.

“When I spoke to Carol we agreed that you would only be in her class for a couple of weeks.” Isabelle explained, “I had assumed that was all that would be needed…”

Yet again Sam was left feeling bad about not getting better faster. The negative feelings towards herself also became frustration at Isabelle though, she wanted more support and encouragement but Issy just wasn’t that kind of person. She was more old-fashioned and stern.

“Anyway, you’ve already stayed there longer than I originally intended. I have used my contacts to find a place for you in an elementary school classroom.” Isabelle said as she stood up.

Sam had just been lifting her spoon towards her mouth but the shock of what Isabelle had just said made it slip through her fingers. The round end of the spoon hit the edge of her bowl and the food spilled everywhere, including on the bib she had been working so hard to keep clean.

“Ele-… Elememen-….” Sam’s vocabulary had improved but long words were a struggle, “I’m too little!”

Sam blushed as she made her plaintive plea. She didn’t mean she was too little in a physical sense, more that she wasn’t ready for that kind of step up. She was still in diapers all the time, she couldn’t read or write, she wasn’t ready at all!

“That’s why I’m hoping stepping up to elementary school might help.” Isabelle said as she took a dishcloth and wetted it under the faucet, “I’m concerned you’re not making more progress because of the level of your peers and I think being around some, eh, more grown up children would help.”

Sam bit her lip nervously.

“Anyway, you have a week before you start there.” Isabelle started wiping Sam’s face. There was a lot more food smeared around Sam’s mouth than she had expected, “I really want to concentrate on your potty training. I’ve taken the week off work specifically to help you.”

To say Sam wasn’t confident was an understatement. It didn’t help that as she was lifted out of her highchair she felt her diaper hang down heavily between her legs, she was soaked and couldn’t remember exactly when she had wet herself. Issy felt the wetness herself and sighed. It was a sound Sam was all too used to.

“Well, we can try at least…” Isabelle said as she carried Sam off towards the changing table in Sam’s nursery.

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