I’m starting to think the green movement is a conspiracy against busy moms like me.
Take my new low-flow toilet. Sure, it’s nice to save water, even though I live near a large lake. But nobody told me I would have to clean it daily. And don’t get me started about the plunging.
It’s not like we have a choice. I hear these toilets, obviously never tested with busy moms, are legally required here in Toronto. Had I known about the extra work, I would have stuck with my aqua bathroom fixtures. No sooner had I replaced them than I read about how hot mid-century décor now is.
Then there’s all the garbage sorting, especially in this city where we have to pay extra for more than about one plastic grocery bag full a week. By the way, we also pay the grocery stores an extra five cents for each plastic bag if we forget our gluten-free, not-tested-on-animals ones at home or in the car, as us busy moms often do.
So instead of reusing the plastic grocery store bags for garbage, we buy new ones. You heard me right.
Now that my kids are teens they at least remember to put most of their trash in the garbage, unlike the days when trails of food wrappers and broken toys from McDonald’s decorated our floors. The trouble is they haven’t figured out how to sort recycle from organic from plain old garbage.
In my daughter’s bathroom, right beside the toilet, sit two garbage containers, one for toilet paper rolls and such, the other for trash. Yet, this 17-year-old honor student can’t figure it out. One more unwelcome task for this busy mom. Let’s just hope I don’t have to replace her toilet.
Don’t get me wrong. I like being green. I believe that every person should do their part.
I tear old towels into cleaning rags instead of wasting paper towels. I scoop my dog’s poop into a biodegradable bag. I have insulated my house and my electrical sockets, replaced my light bulbs and my boiler and so much more.
In fact, one of the reasons I am such a busy mom is the need to pay for all the renovations and purchases demanded by the energy conservationists, mostly undomesticated men and child-free women I suspect.
Let’s tell them that if they want us to do more, they have to come up ways that don’t make us even busier moms. Mind you, I’m looking forward to spending Earth Hour in a candle-lit restaurant where those toilet-plunging, garbage-sorting stress lines will be less visible.