Julie Jay: It's hard to think of anything more harmful to the planet than being a parent

Irish Examiner

2 days ago

Since having children, I have become acutely aware that we have to mind the planet for the next generation, but I draw the line at cloth nappies and parting with my beloved wet wipes.
I realise this kind of hypocrisy is up there with self-proclaimed climate activist Leonardo Di Caprio attending the wedding of Jeff Bezos, the king of consumerism, but on these points I cannot capitulate.
We all know that wet wipes are environmental kryptonite, but they are my only weapon in ensuring the children are somewhat presentable and that bums are clean.
Of course, I could use an old-school cloth, and I have done. But, then, if experts are to be believed, that cloth has to be laundered with detergent that goes straight into a dolphin's mouth.
And so the never-ending cycle of self-loathing and eco-guilt continues until we slip off this mortal coil.
When it comes to clothes — one of the biggest pollutants of all — I am all about buying ethically, but, realistically, it is impossible with small children.
My eldest has shot up in the last few years, so much so that I have had to turn to fast fashion more than ever just to keep everyone ticking over.
Circular fashion, we all know, is an absolute godsend to those of us trying to cut down on consumption, and we have always been about the hand-me-downs from day one, and have been returning the favour by donating to charity the second a t-shirt starts digging into the oxters, or if their dad purchases them a Meath jersey.
But when it comes to basics, like socks, underwear, nightwear and other essentials, my moral compass goes out the window as I sniff out what's cheapest on the high street the way a pig might sniff out truffles.
'How do they make them so cheap?' a family member enquired when I recounted how little my latest haul for the ever-sprouting Number One cost me.
I mumbled something about not wanting to know the origin story of the outrageously cheap Batman pyjamas, because, much like finding out how the sausage is made, sometimes ignorance is bliss.
The impact of fast fashion is such that I honestly couldn't tell you when last — other than undergarments — I purchased a new item for myself.
All my clothes are pre-loved and second-hand, and my metric for purchasing a top is now, 'Has somebody previously cried in this?' If the answer is no, then that item is not for me. I want a cardigan with mascara stains that are not my own.
However, I absolutely do buy new bits for the children, especially now that hand-me-downs from friends and extended family have dwindled these last few years.
Still, when shopping for my two I am often struck by the thought that there's something unavoidable, but nonetheless slightly repellent, in purchasing clothes for our children in stores that could potentially be guilty of using child labour in their manufacture.
The dark irony isn't lost on parents, but the reality is that with the price of daily essentials skyrocketing, we have to be savvy, even if the slogan 'Made by children, for children' could probably apply.
Nappies are also a huge cause of shame for me, because the nappy mountain is monstrous.
Of course, it is inevitable, as a parent of a small child — though I have friends who have been truly admirable and gone down the reusable nappy route.
None of them stuck with it for more than a few weeks, with one friend saying she ended up scrubbing so much she felt like a Victorian washerwoman, 'but without the corset'.
GIVEN all these crimes against our habitat, it's hard to conceive of how being a parent is anything other than harmful to the planet.
Still, we try our best to preserve nature, because safeguarding the planet is one of the most important things we can do for our children — along with teaching them to always thank bus drivers upon exit.
One small thing we do for our local environment is pick up three pieces of litter and bring them home after the playground.
This has become such a solid habit that, on our last visit, Number One came running after me with a crisp bag, scolding me for 'forgetting my rubbish'.
It was only when I sensed the judgemental side-eyes coming from fellow parents that I realised the optics of my good intentions.
Clearly, I now looked like a parent who happily comes to the playground just to litter it up, taking a perverse enjoyment in destroying a community amenity in much the same way people keep defacing the Luke Kelly mural in Dublin.
'This isn't actually ours,' I said to one fellow parent, in the same way you might unconvincingly insist to the next person in the queue that the messy public toilet was like that when you got there.
Leonardo di Caprio may frame himself as an eco warrior, but I doubt he ever picked up a stranger's coffee cup minus gloves, like I did just this morning.
Who needs eco warriors, when you can be a playground hero like me!?