Last February Zach and I decided to attempt living zero waste, and as our first year as zero wasters just wrapped up, I thought it perfect timing to share our successes...and failures. I first introduced the idea of becoming zero waste to Zach when we were registering for baby shower gifts. I couldn't justify our friends and family buying brand new clothes, toys, books, etc., for our baby knowing there were millions of gently used baby goods available second-hand. This thought opened the floodgates. I read Bea Johnson's "Zero Waste Home" almost immediately and seared the five Rs--refuse, reduce, reuse, recycle, and rot--into my brain, began researching how to raise a zero waste baby, became interested in cloth diapering, and spent hours reading about the negative environmental impacts single-use diapers have on our Earth, as well as the cost variables and upkeep. I'm not going to get into specifics here, I'll save that for another post, but my personal interest in zero waste, in general, took me by surprise. I thought I was pretty contentious of my choices already, but I began reevaluating everything I did, everything I bought, and everything I used throughout my day. I began living intentionally, mindfully, and slower.
Even though this decision was brought on through being expecting parents, it extended into our daily life quickly; I'll elaborate on the different aspects in other posts over the next few months. It was important to me that we started incorporating this practice before our baby arrived, and I'm glad we did. As much as I wanted to believe we were living a sustainable life, we weren't, and making efforts to do so was a huge adjustment period. Every aspect of our life, how we grocery shopped, where we dined, how we gave gifts, how we cleaned our home and clothes, how we traveled, and how we disposed of the garbage we did create, and unfortunately, still create, had to be reconsidered. Grocery shopping was the first major challenge, and definitely the most eye-opening. Our society does not make it easy to shop this way, as nearly everything comes in some form of packaging. I was an avid Aldi shopper up until that point, but even their produce is encased in plastic, simply ridiculous. I spent almost an entire day just driving to all the grocery stores around me to see who had the best bakery, who would let me use my own containers, who sold in bulk, etc. By reducing and refusing plastic, this also meant we were eating healthier. I stocked up on unpackaged fruits and veggies, invested in a CSA from Down River Farm--a local farm who specializes in organic farming--and bought large bags of grains. Now, I should say that if I am going to buy an item that is packaged, I always try to opt for glass or paper over plastic, and if that isn't an option, then the plastic has to be recyclable, otherwise, we go without. While we do still recycle, it's been important that don't rely on it, but as I mentioned earlier, our society does not set us up for success. We foster, and have been trained to live in and accept, a linear economy, not a circular economy. My intention with living this way is that every effort to live circular counts.
One thing we have always done is to buy the majority of our clothes second-hand, and besides a few crisp white onesies for our daughter, her wardrobe has been no exception. That's not to say we won't buy her new clothes from time to time, consumerism, aka shopping, is just not a pastime we want her to put much value on. Pun intended. We want her to seek value in experiences, to find beauty in previously loved clothes, and to care and repair the things she does have instead of replacing. Thrifting for clothes was also how I grew up, my parents didn't have disposable income to buy us new, and when they did it was reserved for school clothes or a special occasion. Because of that, my love for thrifting was instilled at an early age, something I always felt slightly weird about this. I knew my friends' parents always bought them new, but I loved my funky jackets, skirts, and belts, and luckily married someone who also grew up wearing second-hand. He reassures me that our daughter will grow up just fine in her used, vintage, and previously loved clothes.
My interest in zero waste didn't end there, it expanded into my life in ways I did not expect. I have always been a yes person, but as I considered all the things I was saying no to, I began saying no to much more than just waste. I used this as an opportunity to say no to the parts of my life that brought stress, took unnecessary amounts of my time, and thus, extended to people. I no longer put myself out there for people who did not cherish my friendship, my time, or my input and began pursuing individuals who would. And by allowing myself to be vulnerable again to new friendships, I have developed the most amazing, grounded, and mutual relationships with people who I value, and in return, value me.
Now, for the sake of transparency, we fail, every day. Making the decision to live this way has not been easy, nor did I expect it to be. We use disposable diapers at night, because why wake a sleeping baby if you don't have to, and we buy packaged bread from time to time and recycle the plastic. I think these slip-ups are beneficial though, they remind us why we are doing this and to slow down. I've enjoyed the obstacles, learning, and countless conversations I've had with my husband, family, friends, and even strangers. Zero waste has been a huge learning curve for us, it has challenged our habits, viewpoints, and parenting plans. I'd be lying if I said we figured it all out, a year is a short period of time, becoming a mother has proven that, but a year has also proven to show how far we have come.