Eco-Friendly Parenting: Raising Green Kids

You know, when my daughter was little back in the 1980s, I didn't think twice about grabbing a pack of Pampers and tossing them in the cart. Environmental consciousness? That wasn't even on my radar. We were busy working parents just trying to get through each day, and convenience ruled everything we did. But now, watching my daughter raise her own kids while I'm finally paying attention to what we're doing to this planet… well, it's given me a lot to think about.

My granddaughter Emma is eight now, and last month she asked me why I throw my banana peels in a separate container instead of the regular trash. When I explained composting to her, her eyes got so wide. "Grandma, you mean we can help make dirt?" That's when it hit me – kids naturally want to take care of things. We just need to show them how.

I've been spending more time with Emma and her little brother Jake lately, and I've realized this might be my chance to do better. Not just for them, but maybe to make up for some of the thoughtless choices I made when their mom was small. Climate change wasn't something we talked about in 1985, but it should've been. Now these kids are inheriting the mess my generation helped create, and the least I can do is teach them a different way.

The diaper thing still gets to me, honestly. Twenty billion diapers in U.S. landfills every year – that's just staggering. Takes 500 years for one diaper to decompose. Emma will be long gone, her great-great-grandchildren will be gone, and those diapers from her baby brother will still be sitting there. When my daughter mentioned she was considering cloth diapers for Jake, I actually encouraged her. Me! The woman who used to think cloth diapers were something only hippies bothered with.

Turns out I was completely wrong about that. My daughter saved nearly $2,000 with Jake compared to what she spent on disposables with Emma. And you know what else? Jake's skin looked so much better. No more of those angry red rashes we just accepted as normal with disposable diapers. Sometimes the old ways really were better – my mother used cloth diapers on all six of us kids, not because she was trying to save the environment, but because that's what you could afford. Funny how being practical and being environmentally responsible often end up being the same thing.

I started paying attention to what goes into baby products too. All those chemicals we slather on babies' skin… where do you think that stuff goes when we wash it off? Right down the drain and into the water system. My daughter switched to organic everything for Jake – shampoo, lotion, even the wipes. Costs a bit more upfront, but his skin is so soft, and I sleep better knowing we're not contributing to water pollution every bath time.

The toy situation really opened my eyes though. Emma's bedroom used to look like a plastic factory exploded in there. Cheap toys from China, most of them broken within weeks, all destined for the garbage. Last Christmas, I decided to try something different. Instead of hitting the toy store, I went to a little shop downtown that sells wooden toys. Cost more, sure, but you should see how Emma plays with that wooden kitchen set. She's had it eight months now and it still looks new. And when she's done with it someday? It'll break down naturally instead of sitting in a landfill for centuries like all that plastic junk.

Jake loves wooden blocks more than any fancy electronic toy he's ever gotten. There's something about the weight of them, the texture… he'll sit for an hour just stacking them up and knocking them down. And the sound they make! So much better than that awful plastic clicking noise. I started thinking about why that might be, and I realized – kids are drawn to natural materials. Makes sense when you think about it. Plastic is fake, artificial. Wood came from a tree. Kids can feel the difference, even if they can't explain it.

I've been taking Emma and Jake outside more too. Not to the playground with all the plastic equipment, but to actual nature. We walk to the pond near my house and watch the ducks. Emma brings stale bread sometimes (I know, I know, it's not the best for them, but old habits die hard). We collect interesting rocks and leaves. Jake found a bird's nest that had fallen from a tree last spring – empty, of course – and he carried that thing around for weeks like it was treasure.

Started a little garden in my backyard specifically for them. Nothing fancy, just some tomatoes, carrots, and sunflowers. Emma helped me plant the seeds and she checks on them every time she visits. When that first tomato ripened and we ate it right off the vine… I wish you could've seen her face. "It tastes different, Grandma!" she said. Better, she meant. Because it was better – no pesticides, no plastic packaging, no truck ride from California. Just sun and water and dirt doing what they've done for millions of years.

The sunflowers were Jake's favorite. He's only four, but he understood that the seeds would make more sunflowers. We saved some seeds from the biggest flower and he's got them in his room, waiting for spring. That's the kind of lesson you can't get from a book or a screen. He planted something, watched it grow, and learned that nature gives back when you take care of it.

We've been doing more cooking together too. I taught Emma how to make bread from scratch – something my mother taught me sixty years ago that I'd mostly forgotten. Her little hands kneading the dough, waiting for it to rise, the smell of fresh bread filling the kitchen… these are the experiences that stick with kids. Not the convenience of grabbing a plastic-wrapped loaf from the store shelf.

And the waste! My goodness, the waste we avoided. No plastic bag, no preservatives, no truck delivery. Just flour and water and yeast doing what they've always done. Emma wants to make bread every time she comes over now. Takes most of the afternoon, but what else would we be doing? Watching TV? Playing on tablets? This is so much better.

I've been more conscious about meal planning when the kids are here. No more throwing away food because I bought too much or forgot what was in the refrigerator. Emma helps me check what we have before we make our grocery list. She's learning to use everything, waste nothing. Jake's too young to help with the list, but he sees us doing it. Kids pick up on everything, even when you think they're not paying attention.

We walk to the grocery store when weather permits. It's only half a mile, and Emma likes to push the cart. Jake rides in it sometimes, making car noises. They think it's an adventure, not a chore. I used to drive everywhere, even short distances, because it was easier. But easier for who? Not for the planet these kids will inherit.

Emma noticed I bring my own bags now instead of using the plastic ones. "Why, Grandma?" she asked. So I explained about plastic bags ending up in the ocean, hurting fish and birds. Now she reminds me to grab the cloth bags before we leave. Kids want to help once they understand why something matters.

The recycling has become a game for them. Jake sorts bottles and cans (with supervision – glass makes me nervous). Emma reads labels to figure out what goes where. They're learning that trash isn't just trash – some of it can become something new. That's a lesson my generation never learned properly. We just threw everything away and assumed someone else would deal with it.

I've been teaching them about energy too. Simple things like turning off lights when you leave a room, unplugging things that aren't being used. Emma's gotten pretty good at being the "electricity police" when she's here. Jake just copies what she does, but that's fine. He's learning the habits even if he doesn't understand the reasons yet.

We made a bird feeder together out of a milk jug and hung it outside my kitchen window. Watching the birds has become part of our morning routine when they stay overnight. Emma keeps a notebook of the different types we see. Jake just points and says "birdie!" but he's learning to be quiet so we don't scare them away. They're understanding that we share this world with other creatures that need our help.

The hardest part has been explaining why these things matter without scaring them. Emma's old enough to understand that the planet is getting warmer, that animals are losing their homes, that there's plastic in the ocean. But she's still a kid. I don't want to give her nightmares about climate change. So I focus on what we can do, not what's going wrong. "We're helping the birds by feeding them." "We're keeping plastic out of the ocean by using cloth bags." "We're taking care of the earth so it can take care of us."

Jake doesn't need the big explanations yet. For him, it's just how Grandma does things. He'll grow up thinking it's normal to compost banana peels, to walk to the store, to play with wooden toys. That's the best gift I can give him – making these choices seem natural instead of burdensome.

My daughter has started making changes at their house too. Reusable water bottles instead of plastic ones. More home-cooked meals. A compost bin in their backyard. She says the kids ask for these things now because they do them at Grandma's house. That makes me proud, but also sad. Wish I'd taught her these things when she was little.

But you know what? It's never too late to change. My generation made mistakes – we chose convenience over responsibility, consumption over conservation. But we can still teach the next generation to do better. Emma and Jake don't have to repeat our mistakes. They can grow up knowing that taking care of the earth isn't extra work – it's just part of being human.

Sometimes I think about what the world will look like when Emma and Jake are my age. Will there still be polar bears? Will the weather be more extreme? Will they have enough clean water? These questions keep me up at night sometimes. But then I remember that little hands kneading bread dough, and eyes lighting up when the first tomato ripens, and a four-year-old carefully sorting bottles for recycling.

Every small thing we teach them matters. Every habit they learn, every connection they make with the natural world, every time they choose to repair instead of replace or walk instead of drive – it all adds up. Maybe they'll teach their kids, and their kids will teach their kids, and slowly we can turn this ship around.

I can't undo forty years of thoughtless consumption and waste. But I can spend whatever time I have left teaching Emma and Jake a better way. When they're older and the climate crisis gets worse – because let's be honest, it probably will – at least they'll have the tools to handle it. They'll know how to grow food, how to waste less, how to find joy in simple things instead of constantly buying new stuff.

That's my job now as their grandmother. Not to leave them a perfect world – that ship has probably sailed. But to leave them the knowledge and values they'll need to fix what my generation broke. Every banana peel in the compost bin, every wooden toy instead of plastic, every walk to the store instead of driving… it's all an investment in their future.

And honestly? Living this way with them has made me happier too. There's something deeply satisfying about teaching kids to take care of things instead of throwing them away. About watching them discover that bread can come from flour and tomatoes from seeds. About seeing them get excited about birds outside the window instead of characters on a screen.

Maybe that's the real lesson here. Taking care of the earth isn't just about sacrifice and guilt. It's about rediscovering what actually makes life good. Time spent together, food you grew yourself, the satisfaction of fixing something instead of replacing it, the quiet pleasure of watching nature do its work.

Emma and Jake are learning that taking care of the planet means taking care of each other. That the choices we make today affect the world they'll inherit. And that even though some problems seem too big for one person to solve, everybody doing their part actually makes a difference.

I wish I'd understood this when their mother was small. But I'm grateful I understand it now, while there's still time to pass it on. These kids are going to need every tool we can give them. Might as well start with the simple ones: waste nothing, grow something, walk when you can, and remember that we're all in this together.

That's what I'm trying to teach them, anyway. One wooden toy, one homemade meal, one walk to the store at a time. It's not enough to fix everything, but it's something. And something is better than nothing, especially when you're teaching kids who still have their whole lives ahead of them to make things better.

Donna

Donna’s retired but not slowing down. She spends her days gardening, reusing, and finding peace in simpler living. Her writing blends reflection with realism—gentle reminders that sustainability starts at home, in daily habits and quiet choices.