We finally stopped using baby wipes. It was time. Georgia is nearly four, she’s been potty trained for two years, she can wash her own hands without parental guidance, and can wipe her own face (if she feels like it). Even when we’re out at the park I usually have something to wipe on (even if it’s my pants), though there are times when a wipe would be handy.

But I finally realized that wipes were a completely unnecessary expense (to me and the environment) when, after a watercolor painting session, Georgia said, “Mommy, I need to mop the floor!”

And instead of heading to the basement for a mop, she went and got some wipes.

We have a white ceramic tile floor, and it shows every little crumb, jelly drip and cat hair. I’m not the kind of housecleaner who mops weekly (and I’m not going to tell you how often I do mop, or you’ll never come over for tea!). But the wipes were perfect for cleaning up those little spills. And since we had them in the house anyway, why not use them up?

Except I kept buying them. Long after I knew Georgia no longer needed wipes. I felt guilty about using wipes in the first place, and I had tried to use washcloths when G was in diapers, schlepping around baggies of damp cloths and empty plastic bags for the used cloths. And then I jumped to eco-friendly wipes, but dang, they were so much more expensive, so I finally started buying the store brand. And I kept finding more uses…

Cleaning paw prints off the furniture
Cleaning the grime off toys
Wiping down the dashboard in the car
Wiping lipstick off of Sally Doll
(Don’t tell Hova) – Cleaning old LPs, CDs and DVDs

Ohhhh, wipes are so convenient. We used them for everything. But they aren’t green. Even at their unbleached best they are a single use, disposable item that aren’t even close to a necessity for us at this point. There are alternatives, of course. A plain old washable cleaning rag or dust cloth works just fine for any of those things.

So recently I tried to go back to the damp-washcloth-in-a-baggie trick. I figured it would be a cinch, especially since I don’t have to deal with baby poop anymore. I felt fairly righteous at the playground, taking out my reusable cloth for G’s peanut butter face and apricot-mush hands, wiping up the dreaded squeeze yogurt. Then I put it back in the baggie. And there it sat, for two days until I cleaned out Georgia’s bag and noticed a very dirty, slightly fuzzy washcloth encased in the baggie. I just can’t deal with spoiled smells, and sometimes I just don’t care about reusing the plastic bag (even though Hova dutifully washes them out), and this time was one of those times, so I justified tossing the washcloth too. I almost had a crisis of green faith. “Why, oh why must I be cursed with caring about the environment? Why can’t I just buy the products that will make my life easier? Why must I brood over every little thing?”

Or, as Georgia, put it, “Why can’t we just use wipes?”

But I realize once you know, you know. Once you learn and care about the consequences of your actions, it kind of nags if you go ahead and buy the wipes. It’s just another little thing, but it adds up. So I told Georgia why we aren’t using wipes, and that’s the end of the story. Once my little environmental conscious was in cahoots, the wipes were outta the house. [cue The Surfaris, “Wipe Out!”]