A thought for Earth Day

 

 

Forget not that the earth 

delights to feel your bare feet, 

and the winds 

long to play with your hair.

-- Kahlil Gibran

Vinegar Friday -- Muddy paw prints

Photo by Vera Kratochvil

TGIVF!


Spring and dogs can mean muddy floors. If your floors are showing signs of April showers, vinegar is the answer! Now you wouldn't want to fill your home with harmful fumes from toxic cleaners, would you? And you don't want to poison the atmosphere in your house with any of the pre-moistened disposable mop cloths, right? I mean, other than the incredible wastefulness of disposable cloths, these things are just downright toxic... especially to pets and crawling babies who spend so much time up close and personal with your floors. Choose wisely what you clean them with!

Simply add 1/4 cup vinegar to 1 gallon of warm water and wash away the dirt and grime. For spot cleaning, just keep a spray bottle of vinegar and water close by. Spritz the spot and wipe up with a damp rag. It's quick. It's easy. And it's toxin-free!

Keeping it green with vinegar,

For more vinegar tips, check out my book, Vinegar Fridays, now 30% off!

Supermom! How I birthed my baby -- Part 3

Expect the Unexpected 

by Lisa Bartelt

 

“I’ve still got five weeks,” I told a friend less than 48 hours before my daughter, our first child, was born. Needless to say, the timing of her arrival caught us off guard.

My husband and I had been married less than a year when our daughter was born. We were expecting her on April 15. In the middle of the night on March 11, 2008, my water broke. My eyes popped open, and I quickly but quietly followed our birth educator’s instructions to determine whether this was a “call the doctor” incident. My husband slept soundly as I freaked out a little. Finally, I roused him and told him what was going on. We called the doctor and minutes later were headed to the hospital without so much as an overnight bag. We didn’t even have a crib yet for our baby.

I was admitted to the hospital with no other signs of labor, and while there was talk of transferring me to a larger hospital because of the earliness of my labor, the pediatrician felt comfortable taking care of a baby who was going to be more than a month ahead of the due date.

I had no idea how long I was going to be in the hospital before labor started. My husband, who was finishing his college degree at the time, kept me company when he didn’t have class and drove back and forth between our apartment and the hospital to get various items we needed. My mom and grandma drove the three-and-a-half hours from our hometown to the hospital in central Illinois, stopping at Target along the way to buy a pack ‘n’ play style bed for our tiny apartment, along with other baby supplies.

Around 11 p.m., I started having contractions and asked the nurse about what I was feeling. About 3 hours later, on March 12, 2008, our daughter was born. During our birth education classes, I was convinced I wouldn’t need drugs. In the heat of the moment, I asked for a half dose of painkiller, which only made me feel loopy and didn’t really dull the pain. The nurses and doctor were so helpful and honestly, I only remember pushing about four times before we met our Isabelle. (We didn’t know the sex ahead of time and I was sure we were having a boy!) She was a little over 6 pounds and healthy in every way.

I naively thought this birthing babies thing was a breeze! (Maybe it was the drugs talking.)

 Less than two years later, I was large with child again, and this time, we were going to be ready. A month before due date, the bags were packed, the bed was set up and we were prepared to bring another life into our house. In the time since our daughter had been born, we’d moved 800 miles across the country to Pennsylvania. New doctors. New hospital. Farther away from family.

I’d been measuring large and had been scheduled for weekly ultrasounds toward the end. One of the doctors warned me that we might be looking at a C-section. The thought of that scared me more than a little.

The day before my due date, Dec. 1, 2009, I started to feel contractions around noon. I went to Bible study that night with my mother-in-law and had been to the doctor earlier in the day. I was dilated to 3 but with nothing else really happening.

By about 10 that night, I was timing contractions until I finally got to that point where they say you can’t talk or laugh your way through them. We called the doctor and drove to the hospital. By the time they were able to check me, I had moved to a 7.

It all becomes sort of a blur after that. I felt the need to push before I reached 10 and after a few tries, no progress was happening; I wasn’t breathing well and the baby’s heart rate wasn’t recovering well after each attempt.

So, my husband and I found ourselves on the way to an emergency C-section. My husband later told me how worried he was when we were separated as they prepared me for the surgery and gave him the scrubs to wear. I received anesthetic and after that, all I could see was my husband holding my hand and peeking over the sheet, and the friendly face of the anesthesiologist, who had such a great personality I almost forgot I was having major surgery.

Minutes later, we had a boy. A 9 lb., 10 oz. boy, so no wonder. We named him Corban.

There was such a drastic difference in my two kids’ births that I struggled after Corban was born not to feel like a failure. I’d heard stories of women who had naturally (and drug-free!) birthed babies bigger than that. “What did I do wrong?” I wondered.

But I’ve since learned to be grateful for modern medicine. I don’t know if my life or his were ever in danger that day, but had C-section not been an option, we both might have suffered far worse. He was healthy. And I recovered.

I don’t know if you can ever really know what to expect from pregnancy, childbirth or motherhood. Early on I learned to expect the unexpected.

And my kids continue to teach me that lesson every. single. day.

~~~

Lisa Bartelt is a freelance writer, avid blogger, stay-at-home mom of two, voracious reader, and coffee addict who loves a good story. An Illinois native now living in Pennsylvania Dutch country, she blogs about books, kids and Jesus at Living Echoes. This is the third time Lisa guest blogged here on Green Grandma. Make sure you check out 10 Reasons I Hate Being a Mom and The Sabbath Experiment -- A different perspective. 

8 Creative Ways that Materials are Recycled as New Products

Courtesy of: Fast Haul

It's going to be a "best ever me" kind of day!

It's tax day and I'm feeling calm and happy. Did I finish them early? Am I getting a refund? Neither. I'm filing an extension and paying. The thing is, since my mom's death three months ago, I've been dealing with the stress of grief. Not fun. Some days, it was all I could do to get out of bed, much less sit in my office and meet deadlines. 

I decided early on that I would be kind to myself and go through this grief process as needed. Sure I had to work. But I didn't take on projects I wouldn't enjoy, I didn't blog every day, as was my custom, and... I didn't stress over taxes. With an extension, I have until Oct. 15th to file, as long as I pay the IRS today. 

I finally pulled out my tax info on Saturday and spent about six hours working on it. Then yesterday, even though it was the Sabbath, I worked on it for a few hours more. I needed to see where we were with what we owed, since things are different this year since my husband retired in May. The good news is, we owe much less than last year. 

Last night was date night for Bill and me. Any other year, date night on April 14th would have been unthinkable. Instead, it was a marvelously relaxing and fun night. We stayed out until after one a.m. and, although a bit groggy this morning, I'm already benefiting from a night out with one of my favorite people in the world. 

Now, it's time to focus on getting that extension filed and paying the country and state the taxes owed. Then it's on to working on a children's book that is due at the end of the week, as well as starting the edits on a book of Lent Reflections I'm doing for a priest I worked with a couple of years ago. It was my favorite project, and I'm thrilled to be doing it again. Happy work. Yea me!

From 1:00-2:00 today, I'll be on blog talk radio being interview by Elizabeth Hamilton-Guarino on The Best Ever You show. Since this is blog talk radio, you'll be able to listen in! You'll even be able to phone in with your questions. So, if there is anything you'd like to ask Green Grandma, tune in and call!

I feel honored to be a guest on a show that features some pretty impressive people, including recent guests, Dr. Lisa Christiansen, Ed Asner and Eric Braeden. So grab a cup of tea or coffee, get comfy and tune in at 1:00 p.m. as I chat with Elizabeth about vinegar and writing and my grandchildren and who knows what else! I have no idea what Elizabeth has in store for me today, so you just might catch me fumbling for words!

Happy tax day!

 

Weekend Quote: Gosnell and basic human rights

You don’t have to oppose abortion rights 

to find late-term abortion abhorrent 

or to find the Gosnell trial eminently newsworthy. This is not about being “pro-choice” or “pro-life.” It’s about basic human rights.

~ Kirsten Powers, USA Today, April 11, 2013 

Vinegar Friday -- a sticky mess

TGIVF!

I hate price stickers! How about you? I especially hate them when some bright store clerk decides to put them on the glass of a picture frame. Arrgghh. 

But then, I remember the vinegar trick. Simply apply some undiluted distilled white vinegar to the glass, let it soak in for about five minutes or so, and voila! No more sticker or sticky residue. It wipes right off. Cheap, easy, and non-toxic!

And that, my friends, is this week's Vinegar Friday tip. It works for price tags as well as those poorly placed stickers your kids think look great on mirrors, windows, refrigerators... you get the idea.

Enjoy your weekend. And don't forget to buy some extra vinegar at the store!

Keeping it green with vinegar,

For more vinegar tips, check out my book, Vinegar Fridays, now 30% off!

Supermom! How I birthed my baby -- Part 2

Sometimes things don't go as planned. In this 2nd installment in the Birth Story series, Candice shares how she wanted to be more in control of things with baby #3. This is a rather long post, but it's an interesting read. And if you've ever thought about water birth, Candice delivers her own water birth story (pun intended) with brutal honesty. Make sure you check out Candice's blog, Monsters Gone Wild.

 

When it comes to birth, my philosophy is that every woman, every pregnancy and every birth are highly unique. I’m a ‘Let nature do its work’ type. My actions throughout my last pregnancy had the tendency to go against the grain, but I acted in accordance with what I needed to do to be at peace with my decisions. My choices are certainly not for everyone, but they were right for me.  

My first two births were inductions. Inductions I deemed as unnecessary which left me feeling quite unsettled afterwards. I’m not opposed to interventions when used appropriately. But for me, there’s a big difference in coming away from a birth knowing something unwanted was really necessary and unavoidable versus coming away from the experience with doubts and regret. My first birth was far from ideal. My second birth was quite lovely given the situation, but it wasn’t on my terms and in the end I felt somewhat robbed. I went into my third birth wanting something more.  

Prior to this last pregnancy, I had spent a few years studying midwifery. I had lived, breathed and experienced birth on many different levels and felt very well equipped to journey through the birthing process again. I received obstetrical care during my first two pregnancies, but this time, for the first time, I was with midwives. I wanted choice, control and the freedom to deliver at home, which were all lacking in my previous experiences. Unfortunately, some of those aspects were missing from the midwifery care I received as well.    

My birth story begins several weeks before my son was even born. Those weeks were spent constantly battling to stay pregnant until nature decided it was time.  

At 36 weeks, my baby was still not head down. He spent most of his time transverse, though would turn breech, oblique and vertex for short periods of time. I had an ultrasound to confirm presentation only for him to do not one but two somersaults during the scan. He was (and still is) quite the little gymnast! An ECV (external cephalic version) was not an option as my son was too mobile for it to be effective long term.  

At 37 weeks, my son’s lie was still very unstable. Standard protocol advised for a cesarean due to the risk of cord prolapse and or malpresentation (specifically the risk of shoulder presentation during labour). The risks were there, but small. Eighty percent of transverse babies will turn longitudinal (most vertex) prior to or at the onset of labour. I refused the mere thought of a cesarean and opted for the expectant management approach. I was not supported in my decision.

At 38 weeks, my son was still transverse and still very mobile. Knowing how I felt about the cesarean option, my midwife suggested that I go to a hospital hours away for a controlled induction. There they would do an ECV in a cesarean section prepped OR. Once baby was turned head down they would break my water and hold baby vertex in hopes of having him settle down into my pelvis at which point they would start the oxytocin to get the contractions rolling. This was not something that the obstetricians in my community felt comfortable of doing, nor was it something I wanted. So I declined.

At 39 weeks very little had changed. Prior to my midwifery appointment, I gently maneuvered my little guy vertex and prayed he would stay there for the duration of my check up (note: this is not something I would advise others to do!). It worked, at least until my drive home when the little bugger decided to turn transverse again.

At 40 weeks (according to their due date which was 5 days sooner than the date based on my known ovulation, which is an entirely different rant for an entirely different day), I entered the postdates induction battle. For me personally, postdates alone was not a good enough indication for induction so I declined. I did however agree to biophysical profiles. My first antenatal monitoring session was booked for 40+3 according to their dates. 39+5 according to mine. Slight overkill, but I went along with it. I continued to receive biophysical profiles every two to three days. The ultrasound technicians were rather taken back by my being pregnant beyond 41 weeks. It just doesn’t happen in my community. Following my second BPP I returned to the administrative desk to book a subsequent ultrasound ‘just in case’ only to be told that I should march my pregnant belly up to L&D and demand an induction. Oh my!  

At 41+3 I had a stretch and sweep and was once again advised that the community standard was to be induced. I declined again.  

At 41+4 Baby stayed vertex ALL day long without me having to push him back in to place. Whew! That day I also agreed to an obstetrical consult following yet another BPP. He wanted to induce me right then and there! I refused. Then he went on to tell me that he would hold absolutely no liability if either one of us dies before, during, or after delivery. She used the words death and liability at least a dozen times each during that discussion. Sigh. Prior to leaving, the doctor requested an NST and I agreed. It was normal in all respects; however, it did show I was having contractions every 3-4 minutes. I could feel them, but they weren’t painful. The nurse saw these and took the strip away to show the doctor. She came back and told me that she thought I was in labour and that I was not to leave the hospital. Ha! I was planning a waterbirth at home. If I was in labour, I would be leaving ASAP! I can just see the news article now ‘Woman Gives Birth While Trying to Get AWAY From the Hospital’.  She then asked to do a vaginal exam and commented that I may require an augmentation (oxytocin) to speed things along. I refused and quickly got myself out of there.  

At 41+5 I had sex in the evening (shhhhh don’t tell my mother!) and at 9:45 PM, I had one crazy long contraction. Three minutes after that I had another and then another three minutes after that. Sex really does work! This continued until 10:15 at which point I checked my cervix. It was still closed and baby was still not engaged. I couldn’t even feel his head in my pelvis. I decided to get out of bed and try to preoccupy myself in a more upright and gravity friendly position. I updated my Facebook status, did a load of laundry and completed a few Sudoku puzzles. My contractions continued every 2-3 minutes the entire time. They hurt, but not in an excruciating painful kind of way. They were more like a giddy this is actually happening kind of pain. 

At 11:15 the contractions were beginning to hurt. They stopped me in my tracks. I tried to check my cervix again but this time I couldn’t get a good feel. It had moved very posterior. I estimated myself to be approximately 3cm. Technically speaking labour in a woman who has given birth before is defined as being at least 4+centimeters and having regular contractions which are dilating the cervix. I have a history of having fairly quick labours, but I really didn’t want to be wrong in my assessment of myself. Having studied midwifery, if I were wrong and mistook ‘false/early” labour as being active my pride would have never lived it down. Instead of calling the midwife, I woke up my husband and reluctantly told him that he should fill the pool just in case. I made a plan to call the midwife in an hour. I was terrified of jinxing it!  

At 11:45, I was rolling around on the floor cursing and swearing in pain. There was barely any water in my birth pool and we had already run out of hot water. My husband had to resort to boiling water on the stove to fill the pool. I was in a daze. I think the fire alarm went off at least once. How he managed setting that off while simply boiling water is beyond me, but it explains why he never cooks! I realized my decision to call the midwife in an hour was stupid, so I paged her right away. It took her 45 minutes to arrive and it was a rough 45 minutes. The contractions came on so hard and so fast. I was not prepared for them. I had two inductions previously, and coped fairly well, especially with my second. I had practiced progressive relaxation throughout my pregnancy. I had prepared myself to deal with the pain of labour and was able to do so without pain medications. This time around, I assumed I could handle the pain, so preparing for the pain aspect of labour took the back burner. I was so focused on battling for my birthing rights that I ended up entirely unprepared for what it was I was fighting for. I just could not get on top of my contractions and my husband was too busy filling the pool and boiling water to support me. I felt very alone. With the onset of each contraction I climbed up on our loveseat and leaned over the edge. By the completion of each contraction, I’d roll around the floor. On the couch, off the couch, on the couch, off the couch. That was my rhythm.  There were no breaks in between. I’ve been to births where the women have actually been able to breathe and sometimes even talk between contractions. That wasn’t me. I was so so angry that wasn’t me. The intense pain was constant. It would decrease ever so slightly between, but it still remained at a constant h*ly f*ck*ng Sh*t level. With my first two labours, I never swore. I don’t swear. Never made a sound. Never even moved. I never ever ever envisioned myself losing control the way I did with this birth and my husband was taken aback by my behaviour as well. Luckily I never woke the kids, though I’m not too sure about the neighbours… I never asked!

At 12:30 the midwife arrived, saw me and agreed I was in labour. She said she didn’t need to do a vaginal exam.  I must have looked really rough!  Given my son’s recent unstable lie and the fact that he still wasn’t engaged prior to labour, I requested that she do a vaginal exam anyway.  I’m not a big fan of vaginal exams and under ‘normal’ situations I think her hands off approach was acceptable; however, given my prenatal history I felt her initial decision to be very poorly thought out, which really made me doubt her competence during the remainder of the labour and birth. Not a good thing.  

It took a while for her to be able to do the vaginal exam. The contractions just kept coming back to back and I NEEDED to be on my hands and knees and moving during them. Eventually she was able to get in there and I was 5-6cm dilated, the membranes were bulging and baby was at -2 station, which was still fairly high for being in active labour. At this point I considered transferring in to hospital for pain relief, but I quickly reconsidered when I remembered the hospital was a 45 minute drive away. So I got into the birth pool instead. There wasn’t as much water as I wanted, but there was enough to get in. The water was AMAZING!  It reduced the pain in half. It still hurt like crazy, but it helped take the edge off. I honestly don’t know what I would have done it without that pool. It was a godsend, though I still didn’t cope well. I must have looked like a fish who had just gotten itself hooked. I was flipping and turning and splashing and thrashing.  At one point I remember trying to get water unclogged from my ear while simultaneously trying to maneuver myself over the edge of the pool to vomit while contracting – all at the same time.  And all this while “Today” by the Smashing Pumpkins played in the background. The lyrics “Today is the greatest day I’ve ever known” didn’t quite mesh with what I was feeling at the time.  

My midwife sat across the room doing her paper work and offered zero labour support. My husband came up to the side of the pool to comfort me. He had our video camera hanging around his neck and looked like a tourist, so I cursed at him and told him to put the camera down. I had wanted the delivery videotaped so what I meant was I wanted him to turn the camera on and set it down somewhere, but he didn’t ‘get’ that so, unfortunately, I have no video footage.  

At 01:05, I started feeling pressure. At 01:15, I started pushing. And pushing sucked! Again, it was a completely different experience than with my first two. With them, pushing took away some of the pain. It still hurt, but there was some relief. There was no relief this time around. Not pushing hurt. Pushing hurt more. But if I didn’t push, it was going to hurt longer. So I needed to push. Having my hand on my perineum and the baby’s head helped. It seemed to relieve some of the pressure and it was very reassuring to actually feel the progress. Pushing hands on was a VERY different experience, in a good way, than having someone else down there during the delivery.  

While I was pushing, my 9-year-old son was awakened to come see the birth of his new little brother. We had discussed it beforehand and he wanted to be there. My 5-year-old daughter did not. She had told us that as long as we let her know the baby was born in the morning before she went to school, she’d be happy. Regretfully, afterwards she told us she had actually wanted to be there, too.  Maybe next time, if there is ever a next time…

At 01:22, my son was born in the water at home. My membranes ruptured with the delivery of his head and he came out direct OP (sunny side/face looking up) which explains why the pain was so much more intense during the labour and with pushing. He was born into my hands, but once his head was delivered, the midwife came in and swooped him up. She said that when she saw that he was OP she was afraid his face would be lifted out of the water and then brought back down, which I suppose was a reasonable concern. In total, my labour lasted approximately 3 1/3 hours from the onset of my first contraction to the time he was in my arms. The first hour was nothing. The last two hours were intense. Crazy intense.

We stayed in the water for a few short minutes and then moved into my bedroom where I delivered the placenta and breastfed my baby boy for the first time. He was 9lbs 0oz.  His color was perfect. His breathing was perfect. He was perfect.  

The midwives told me that I had a small perineal tear that didn’t need repair because it came together nicely. I assumed it was a first degree laceration and was fine with their decision. I later discovered it was actually a second degree tear which never did heal correctly. Admittedly, I was and still am a bit peeved about that. 

    

My immediate postpartum was fairly uneventful. I had a little bleed at one point as a result of a small clot, but it was quickly expelled with some uterine massage. Man that hurt! My sympathies go out to every woman I’ve ever done that to in the past. My blood loss was very normal. The only issue I had was I was unable to pee. I tried and I tried, but I just couldn’t. The problem with not being able to pee is that a full bladder increases your risk of hemorrhage. Typically, midwives won’t leave a home birth until the woman has peed. As a last resort, they will catheterize her beforehand; however, that increases the risk of her developing a UTI. My midwife did not want to catheterize me, because of that risk of infection. Instead, she left me with a needle of oxytocin and advised me to inject myself and call 911 should I start to hemorrhage. Since I had previously trained to be a midwife, I had given oxytocin injections to many many women over the years, but this was an entirely different set of circumstances. I was the woman! And I, having just given birth, was in no state to think logically and argue with her. The midwives left. My husband fell asleep. My baby fell asleep. And I stayed awake terrified I was going to bleed out. I was so worried that if I were to start hemorrhaging in my sleep I wouldn’t be able to regain enough consciousness to give myself the oxytocin and instruct my husband to call 911. It doesn’t matter how much training one has had, if they’re unconscious, it’s of absolutely no use to them. So I remained up, completely exhausted, trying to pee. Eventually, I did. But it made for a highly stressful and tiring night.    

In the end, I avoided the interventions in which I thought were unnecessary and had the home water birth I had always dreamed of. Despite that, it wasn’t the birth I expected. It wasn’t bad, it was just intense and not what I had envisioned. It made me realize that choice of birthplace matters, but there is so much more involved when it comes to obtaining a positive birth experience. I am very much a home birth advocate, however I must admit that overall my second birth, my unnecessary induction in hospital, was a much more pleasant and empowering experience. Having good labour support, being mentally prepared for labour and having a birth attendant who respects your decisions and whom you trust, regardless of whether it’s a midwife or doctor, are ALL key essential components of having a soulfully fulfilling labour and delivery. If any one of those aspects are missing the whole experience can easily go off kilter. 

Are you still using plastic grocery bags? Why??

The following is an article I wrote for Pinpoint Publications. It appears in this month's Zip Code Magazine in Las Vegas. You can also read it, as well as other articles I've written, online at zipcodemagazines.com

Going Green: Plastic No More – Committing to Re-Usable Bags

 By Hana Haatainen Caye

In our retail driven culture, we often don’t give much thought to the plastic bags we use to carry home our purchases. But as we lean toward becoming environmentally conscious, moving away from plastic bags has become more important. Still, many of us are quick to make our own excuses as to why we don’t switch over to something more green. What many people fail to realize is that breaking free of those excuses and making the change is easier than you think.

Excuse #1: “What About Contamination?”
Fears over contamination have kept many consumers from adopting re-usable bags. Researchers at the University of Pennsylvania and George Mason University noted a rise in food borne illness following a plastic bag ban in San Francisco, which had many shoppers clinging to plastic for dear life. While the presence of bacteria is always a concern, these fears may be a bit misguided. If you already have reusable shopping totes, such as the ones you pick up at the grocery store, you can protect them from bacteria by not using them for raw meats and produce, and also by cleaning them with a damp cloth soaked in half distilled white vinegar and half hot water.

Washable cloth bags are a simple way to stay green. By washing your bags after each trip to the store, you help lessen the risk of food borne illness. Envirosax® (www.envirosax.com) manufactures
bags made of organic cotton, hemp, linen and polyester. While polyester is a plastic, these bags are designed to last for years, as opposed to the single use plastic variety. Lightweight yet strong, they can be rolled up and carried in your pocket or your purse. EasyFoldBag™ (www.easyfoldbag.com) also offers machine washable totes made out of nylon.

Excuse #2: “I’m Too Forgetful!”
Habits can be hard to break, and remembering to use plastic bags is no exception, but when you make a concerted effort to carry your own, it should eventually become second nature. Also, with foldable bags, it’s not difficult at all to carry them with you. Keep a selection of bags in your car for impromptu trips to the store. That way, you will never find yourself in need of a plastic bag when you approach the register. “No bag, please, I have my own,” will become your new mantra. Some stores such as Target will even reward you for it with a discount on your bill.

And don’t forget to recycle those plastic bags sitting around at home. According to the Environmental Protection Agency, less than ten percent of plastic bags are recycled, with other estimates at less than one percent. Still, nearly every grocery store has a bin for collecting plastic bags. Use it! Gather up all the bags filling up space in your pantry and drop them off the next time you go shopping. Encourage your friends, co-workers and family members to do the same.

Excuse #3: “Plastic Makes My Home Life Easier!”
You can fight the green fight on the home front as well. Many people use plastic grocery bags to line their wastebaskets; however, there are many non-plastic ways to keep your trash bins clean. Round coffee filters fit nicely into the bottom of bathroom wastebaskets and can be replaced as needed. Additionally, wastebaskets can be wiped out weekly with the same white vinegar and hot water solution recommended for cleaning your re-usable bags. Ditching the plastic bin liners may seem like an inconvenience at first, but it’s one more small step toward living a greener life.

For packing lunches, reusable snack and sandwich bags can take the place of plastic and can be found at www.reusies.com. Children love the fun fabrics and they can be hand washed or tossed in the washing machine or dishwasher. Storing food in your refrigerator and freezer in BPA-free plastic or glass containers can also prevent piling up plastic in the landfills. Of course, if there is a reason you simply must use a plastic bag, opt for a biodegradable and/or compostable option.

As people become more aware of the need to conserve, it’s good to know that alternatives exist to the traditional plastic bag. These options will not only help you green up your life but will also keep needless waste to a minimum and keep the planet spinning toward a better future for all.