For those who grew up in the 50s

This is what happens when you have waaaay too much time on your hands. With apologies to the late George Reeves.

Faster than a laxative! More powerful than a suppository! Able to leap on the toilet in a single bound!

Look! up in the bathroom! Is it a doctor? Is it a nurse? No, it's Enemamom!

Yes it's Enemamom, strict housewife from another planet. Eneamom, who can change the course of soapy water, bend you over her lap with her bare hands.And who, disguised as a mild-mannered mother in a great Metropolitan city, fights illness and constipation the Enema Way.

And now, another exciting episode in the Adventures of Enemamom!

(Place your story here)

Love your "set up". My Enemom never had to fear any Kryptonite. She was unstoppable.

I was raised for most of my childhood by two aunts. One of them was a firm believer that little boys needed regular enemas to stay healthy. They really were her "cure-all." Right from the start I got them. I went to go live with them just before my 5th birthday and they insisted on "potty training" me again even though it wasn't necessary. She was a fanatic about me having a clean bottom. Once or twice a week the syringe came out to make sure I was really cleaned out and to help me on the potty. She also tried suppositories and even soap sticks when I was a boy but enemas were her first call. And of course I had no say in it at all. I would cry and plea as she undressed me. But she always had the little paddle laying on the table where I could see it and I understood what that meant. I could either be a good little boy and take my enema without a fussy or I could have my bare bottom spanked and then get an enema.

Sounds me like your aunt was a child molester. If you had already been potty trained, what was her purpose of retraining you, especially at 5 yrs. old.

According to what my sister has told me, I had "rectal problems" when I was small, including constipation. I don't really remember any of that but that seems to agree with some of the doctor visits I can kind of remember. My aunts were in their 50's back in the 60's and so they were using childcare advice from the 1920 and 30's to help "my problem." Today it would be seen as abusive, especially her use of enemas and being so strict about me being regular, but at that time, with country people in the south, I'm afraid it happened.

She sensed her boy was moovin too slow.

So she called in the neighbor lady for a brand new show!

The neighbor she was keen, and brought a full jar of Vaseline.

Bobby saw the move, and knew it was for his naughty groove. Butt, butt!

As it was they had left him sore, from before, and he ain't wantin it no more!

I'm not sure that I would call my mom an "enemamom", but she sure knew how to prepare and give a good enema if you needed one. I grew up with an older sister and a younger one. Emily, the younger one, probably got more enemas than the my other sister and me combined. On one occasion Emily had just been given some quantity of warm, soapy water and was in the process of expelling it. Since the enema bag was still out, mom asked Carol, my other sister about her bowel habits and not coming up with a satisfactory answer was told that she was to get one next. I guess mom felt that since two out of three were done, that I should get one, too. There was no argument to be had and it wasn't long before I was over mom's lap with the nozzle up my bum taking as my mom would say "a good warm enema". If mom decided that one of us was in need of an enema that is all there was to it. Even if I said I didn't need one, the standard reply was, "That's OK. It still won't hurt you any."

I don't know if I ever really "grew up". I was in my early childhood in the 50's, and became a teenager in the 60's. The 70's were a real challenging time, in many respects. Fast forward to the present...and I digress, at times, to those more simple times long past.

That simple procedure that we are obsessive about, sure got me past some of the more difficult times. Potty training, tummy aches, fevers, bad behavior, awakening to physiological changes in my body, sexual experimentation, stress, and BTW, a good warm enema never hurt anybody?

Maybe my mom and grandma weren't so dumb after all!

I don't know if I ever really "grew up". I was in my early childhood in the 50's, and became a teenager in the 60's. The 70's were a real challenging time, in many respects. Fast forward to the present...and I digress, at times, to those more simple times long past.

Why do people invariably refer to the past as more simple times? Living your life is always complicated. If the past seems simpler, it's probably because we have forgotten so much about the daily grind of things back when. And if people refer to childhood being simpler, well, yeah. Kids have so few responsibilities compared to adults. Of course their lives are simpler in that respect.

I suppose that my point is just what you pointed out. As a product of those times, in other words growing up in the 50's, many of us kids had it pretty good, in hindsight. Decisions were likely already made in our behalf. We may have felt put upon, but many of those decisions were probably best for us under the circumstances.

In today's hustle and bustle, a simple procedure like an enema, is often a welcome indulgence to reduce stress and enjoy a temporary reset of our system. Much like those simple times we may have taken for granted as kids. As I said, a bit of a digression.

I suspect that some of us truly regress when it comes to some of those circumstances that may have fueled, or even triggered, our fetishistic tendencies. Vintage equipment, enema mommy, or nurse may all correlate to our present inclinations. Some seek to relive some of those interactions from our earlier existence.

Others may have far more mature fantasies that may involve humiliation, domination, and bondage. A power trip or exchange of sorts. The enema may be the ultimate exercise of control for some.

In either case, the simple injection of a solution into the body, seems to have profound results psychologically. If the "Golden Age of Enemas", was truly in the mid 20th Century, I'm glad that I got to experience what was pretty common in that timeframe.

I started life in the mid 40's and grew up in the 50's. We were grade B dairy producers, selling 30 gallons of fresh filtered and cooled milk early morning and again in early evening for a total of just under 60 gallons most days. Washing cans, buckets, strainer, bags and tits each time. Lots of attention to sanitation and cleanliness. I was a farm hand a year or more before i entered the first grade. With no introduction to school, I was lost and bewildered at all the strange goings on over there and had no clue what we were doing or what it was supposed to be for anyhow, anyway.

Needless to say i only got a little glass of milk for lunch and sipped a little water from their fancy water fountain just for the fun of it. The food was way different than i was used to as well. Soon the ordeal had taken its toll and I was in big pain. I spent over an hour on the bus each day. When I got off the bus, i'd start peeing before it pulled off, feeling i had escaped the strange limits of school and needed relief. With another 30 minute walk or more, depending where they decided to drop me off, I finally got home and went straight for the out house. Frustrated and not successful, i came crying into the house, hoping to be excused from further torment by explaining the total impossibility of the entire school ordeal. In those days i was allowed to hide under her dress and her scent alone would comfort me. I complained non stop, and mom knew something was terribly wrong. As she started asking very intuitive questions, she came to the conclusion i needed a gramma's enema. It was called that, because she was always associated with good things. Anything from gramma was wonderful. It did not dawn on me that she was 40 miles away though. So as mom got busy with gramma's enema, i went looking for gramma. There wasn't many places she could be, so i soon wandered back in scratching my head. I had forgotten enema had even been mentioned, but suddenly remembered when i saw her preparations, including a can of lard close by. She coaxed me closer by lifting her skirt and i came under her comforting scent and she began rubbing my back. Momma hated discord and was a master peace maker. She pulled me out by my little hand and picked me up with a kiss and a nice squeeze, explaining i needed a gramma's enema. Ohhh, i thought to my self and began to automatically undress for her. She had spread news paper on the floor and knelt beside it asking me to lay down for her there. As i did she positioned me and applied the lard, generously asking me to try to poop as she massaged where it came out. I sensed she was studying the situation as she eased a finger inside for a better understanding of things. My legs straitened out like a frog taking a leap. She comforted me again and kissed my cheek as she inquired within. Pretending she was her mother she made an interesting game of it. And i started playing along. All reservation was washed away and i happily received her administrations.

Yep, my mom was an enemom all right. She meant well and tried to be gentle. She was no nonsense about it though. Saturday morning when you woke up, there were the towels stacked on the dresser along with the jar of Vaseline. I stayed in bed till mom came in And gave me my enemas.

I wish my mom gave me regular enemas instead when I was sick I also envy some of you who had sisters and brothers who shared the same enema nozzle while your mother lined you up. To think of the nozzle entering into one sibling"s rectum to another is so erotic

Yep, mine was an Enemamom! She gave me more enemas than I could ever count. But I actually needed them. She had chronic constipation and I followed in her footsteps. I remember all it would take is a single piece of cheese and I would not go for 3 days. Then it was down on the bathroom floor for an enema. Ah the good ole days!!

I remember all it would take is a single piece of cheese and I would not go for 3 days. Then it was down on the bathroom floor for an enema. Ah the good ole days!!

If you'd get constipated for 3 days from 1 lousy piece of cheese, then those weren't really so good as days went. Pretty darn inconvenient to say the very least ... 😃

EneMom, Eh? I I suppose the enema that weakened you completely would be called a "KryptoKlism"--always delivered from a green bag with green hose and nozzle...and a green soap solution...

HI starting at age 5 I received bag enemas on Mondays and Thursdays. Loved every one, was so nice . When younger it was the bulb, but like bag best.

In the 50's you got enemas for any reson. Was so nice.

Well, mine was called Suppomom .... and that's her in my avatar!

Mom, I don'r feel well .... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Mom, my tummy hurts ... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Mom, I have cramps ... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Mom, I feel so tired ... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Mom ... Wait a sec... Ahhhhhhhhhhhhchooooooooo ... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Mom, shoot! I broke a nail! ... Hmmmm, let's give you a nice enema!

Any questions?

At the age of 10 years I have had a severe form of an influenza with a long-lasting constipation. In the years after World War Two a doctor was not available so a monastic nurse came at home and said that I needed an enema. I refused this in such a manner that my mother and the nurse gave up concerning an enema, the nurse and my mother whispered together and later I had to drink a cup with hoth milk but with a strange smell. Several hours later the urge to go to the bathroom became increasingly violent. Today I know that this has been my first time to take a good dose castor oil.

It appears that today's naturopathic doctors are still practicing some of yesterday's "Golden Age" remedies used by aunts and grandmothers, including castor oil packs and enemas. Imagine, calling your new doctor, a naturopath, because your husband is sick with the flu and has a stomach ache. Among other things, she (many of these doctors now are women) wants his bowels to be clear, and do you have an enema bag? I can't imagine many of today's younger doctors asking that question!

Yep, I remember all it would take is a single piece of cheese and I would not go for 3 days. Then it was down on the bathroom floor for an enema. Ah the good ole days!!

This is probably called lactose intolerant

I'm actually glad I DON'T live in the 1950s

As hard as I worked to get my college degree, I don't want just the 6 or 7 options that a woman with a degree would have had back then .

I on't need some of the contraptions women wore, for office work then and then there is the fact that pollution was so much worse, All around the whole lifestyle just wasn't as healthy

Someone with common sense who thinks about the differences between now and then. Good for you!

Sometimes the talk about the past as a 'Golden Age' really gets on my nerves. The past was an age of inequality on many fronts, an age of violence (yes people, look it up, we are now living in one of the most peaceful eras in all of human history) the past was filled with ignorance and prejudices and lousy gadgetry and big stinking gas-guzzling automobiles. And many of the social axioms and assumptions are enough to make one cringe now. It was also pretty boring back then too. Everything was supposed to be so goody-goody gumdrops, a 'Leave It to Beaver' fantasy where Dad was always right, even if he was a dimwit the likes of a burnt-out light-bulb.

@agracier Not to mention having the bejebus scared out of you during those duck and cover exercises.

Agracier: Not to mention, if you were a young male, being shipped off overseas to wage colonial wars. If you were a woman, being shamed if you had sexual relationships, prevented from having access to contraception, etc.

@agracier Not to mention having the bejebus scared out of you during those duck and cover exercises.

Right. I experienced them too, and to make it even worse, in a catholic school it was accompanied by nuns presiding over the cowering class, reciting the rosary or making us all pray in unison ...

OK, personal rundown. If I were growing up in the 50s I may have the "benefit" of getting frequent enemas. Probably would have, because I was often constipated as a kid. In return for this (which, let's face it, has no proof of any benefit beyond relieving constipation) the following would likely have happened in my family:

My grandmother would probably have died before she met my grandfather because there wouldn't have been antibiotics as available as they were in the early '40s. My mother may very well have died during the birth of either me or my sister as caesarians were not as advanced at the time. My grandfather would have likely died 20-40 years before he did because the treatments for cancer were not as advanced, and my dad could very well have died or be dying of colon cancer as well because modern medicine has been able to catch it as polyps and near cancer several times. Not to mention that all the men on my mother's side have been treated for prostate cancer and fortunately lived.

Personally I would have been barely functional, as surgical techniques that have helped me quite a bit were not available. It's very possible that since I was born when I was I won't have any issues with skin cancer because I grew up with sunscreen, whereas other family members have had problems - another plus of modern science. We also would have likely have several extended family members in mental institutions as psychiatric drugs were not very good or available. This list is just for me and my known family members...

I think I'll take what we have today and do my enemas on my own initiative. Yeah, I think they help me and yeah, they're fun, but they're also something I can do myself. Do wish it could be shared, but you can't always have everything.

P.S. - statistically active shooters are still rare. I'd take the risk of being shot today over the risk of dying or being seriously injured in a car crash because of nonexistent safety standards in the 50s and 60s any day.

I have friends who muse about the "Good Ole Days" In fact I think I have sometimes said that I wish I was transported back in time to 1957 when every bathroom had an enema bag, cars had fins and girls wore skirts. While I do get nostalgic, the fact is they were just the "Old Days". There really wasn't much good about them with the threat of thermonuclear war, the draft and healthcare magnitudes less efficient than it is now. I would have died of a heart attack without a bypass which was nowhere in sight back then. I was told by my surgeon that medical knowledge is doubling every 7 years. That is encouraging and hopefully in the coming decades many killers like cancer will be eradicated.

Mom put a Doctor's Note in my Baby Book that instructed her to give me enemas when I was two years old. Dated 1945. Now fast forward to Thanksgiving 1953. Ended up in the Hospital for nothing more than Constipation. I was an age 10 kid that received a full two quart hot soap suds enema and placed on a bedpan as the treatment. After the nasty response from my dad to the hospital bill I got lots on home enemas from mom until I started self administering at early age 14.