G Diapers

So I ordered this sample pack of hippie diapers a million years ago, and then left it in our trunk. Having recently re-located it, I decided to try them out.

Early on we tried cloth diapers and found them to be ass. For us. I realize that they work for you, and that is because you are awesome. You can handle the cloth diapers, and you are a super-goodie. However, we hated them and had to stop using them. (I do not need tips! No tips, please, you helpful parent, you.) Sooo…

So we’ve been using crazy-evil disposables that take three million years to decompose, and I have the guilt. G Diapers are flushable diapers that seem easy to use. I started using them yesterday, and I kind of love them so far. Of course, I don’t flush the liners, just throw them away. But still, they biodegrade a zillion times faster than disposables, and they use less stuff you throw away overall, so I’m feeling angelic. Also, the covers are soft, so Hank doesn’t try to claw them off.

So, here begins my great green experiment. I’ll tell you if they begin to suck, but so far they do not suck! And we are virtuous, earth-loving people who are busy looking for trees to hug right this minute.

You Need to Listen

A man up the street is screaming into his cell phone. It is early morning, still grey.

NO! SHUT UP! YOU NEED TO LISTEN. YOU NEED TO LISTEN TO ME.

I push the stroller across the street quickly, and try to figure out where the sound is coming from. He is at least two blocks away, dressed in a red sports jersey and matching track pants.

I DO HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH IT! I GOT EVERYTHING TO DO WITH IT. YOU NEED TO SHUT UP RIGHT NOW AND LISTEN TO ME.

He takes a few steps, pauses to scream, takes a few more steps. Hank and I walk to the neighborhood coffee shop and take a seat. A few minutes later, I see the man through the window. The hum of the cafe deadens his words, but he is gesturing in wide sweeps. He holds the phone to his ear for a moment, and then swings it out so he can scowl at it while he yells into the receiver, as though it were a microphone.

His gestures remind me of a hellfire preacher at the pulpit. I can see he isn’t actually angry, not anymore. He’s simply enjoying the gestures that accompany refined rage. He is flawless, infuriated, and somehow harmless. He could be a lovely actor, I think, and then retrieve Hank’s pacifier from the floor.

Dirty Talk

Rachel: The size charts are weird.
Me: I’m usually a B, but I’m probably a C right now.
Bryan: Are you guys talking about boobs?
Me: No. We’re talking about pantyhose.
Bryan: Oh. Talk about boobs instead.
Me: Boobs, boobs, boobs. I love boobs. Boobs.
Rachel: I have two of them.
Bryan: You guys suck at this.
Rachel: Maggie has boobs.
Bryan: Warmer.
Maggie: Rachel also has boobs.
Rachel: Bryan and Ryan do not have boobs.
Me: But what they lack in boobs, they make up for in charm.
Bryan: Forget it.
Ryan: I’m gettin’ hot.

Kid’s Stuff

It’s ready! So, here’s the big news:

Today, we’re launching a sister site to Mighty Goods called Mighty Junior. It’s a shopping site dedicated to good stuff for kids and the people who love them. It is also wicked awesome, and I almost can’t believe it’s finally happening.

Melissa Summers, who some of you may already know from Suburban Bliss, is the new site editor, and we couldn’t be luckier. I’m so pleased to be working with her, not only because she has great taste and a mean sense of humor, but also because she’s one of the people who makes my life more fun.

So, go look! And let us know what you think.