Dear Sarah from last October,

I know exactly where you're right now. It’s 7:14 AM on a Tuesday. You're standing in the kitchen wearing those tragic gray sweatpants with the mysterious hole in the left thigh, holding your second—no, let's be honest, your third—cup of lukewarm dark roast coffee. Leo is sitting on the floor violently throwing Cheerios at the dog, and Maya is desperately searching for her left sneaker which is definitely under the sofa but you haven't had the energy to look yet.

And then you look down at your phone.

A news alert pops up. Someone is shouting about oil on TV. The words jump out at you, that old returning political slogan, and suddenly your brain is spiraling into a chaotic, terrifying Venn diagram of what the drill baby drill meaning actually represents for your family. Because in your chronically exhausted, highly caffeinated millennial mother brain, the word "drill" has somehow become the most triggering word in the English language.

I’m writing to you from six months in the future to tell you to put the phone down. Seriously, put it down. You're about to have a minor panic attack about melting ice caps, active shooter lockdowns at Maya's elementary school, and whether or not buying Leo a literal toy baby drill for his birthday is going to ruin the environment. It's a lot. I get it.

That time you cried over an oil rig and a wooden toy

So let’s talk about the eco-anxiety first, because that’s the one that makes you stare at the ceiling at 2 AM. You see that whole trump drill baby drill rhetoric making a comeback and your chest just tightens, right? David thinks you read way too much news and tells you to just delete Twitter, which, fair, he's probably right. But how can you not panic?

I read somewhere—was it the BBC? or maybe just some guy on Instagram, oh god I hope it wasn't Instagram—that we've to cut global carbon emissions by like half by 2030. 2030! Maya will only be thirteen! My pediatrician actually asked me at Leo’s last checkup if I was sleeping okay because my left eye was literally twitching while we were talking about milestone charts. I tried to explain that I was just worried about ocean temperatures and whether we're handing our kids a planet that's basically on fire, and she just gave me that very gentle, pitying medical professional nod.

The thing is, we all saw what happened with that Deepwater Horizon spill years ago, like millions of gallons of oil just ruining everything, and the idea of expanding all that extraction just feels like a massive step backward when we're trying so hard at home to use paper straws that dissolve in our iced lattes after five minutes.

It makes you feel entirely helpless. Anyway, the point is, you can’t fix macro-environmental policy from your kitchen counter. You just can't. But you CAN control what you bring into your house, which is why you finally stopped buying that cheap, fast-fashion polyester clothing that sheds microplastics into the washing machine.

I'm not even going to talk about the toxic chemicals in conventional baby mattresses right now because my brain will literally explode and I don't have the emotional bandwidth.

Instead, focus on the little wins. When our friend Jessica had her baby last month, instead of buying something plastic, I got her the Flutter Sleeve Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit Ruffled Infant Romper from Kianao. Let me tell you, it's SO soft. It’s made from 95% organic cotton, which means it wasn't grown with all those horrendous pesticides that are killing the bees. It has these little flutter sleeves that are ridiculously cute, and honestly, seeing a baby in natural, breathable fabric that isn’t contributing to the fossil fuel nightmare just makes me feel a tiny bit better about the world. It’s pre-shrunk too, so Jessica won’t hate me when she accidentally washes it on hot because she's sleep-deprived.

The absolute hell of kindergarten lockdown practice

But the climate stuff isn't even the worst part of your morning spiral, is it? No. The worst part is that crumpled piece of paper you found at the bottom of Maya’s Elsa backpack last night, squished right next to a flattened juice box.

The absolute hell of kindergarten lockdown practice — What The Drill Baby Drill Slogan Actually Means For Parents

A "stay safe" drill. A lockdown drill. For a seven-year-old.

I hate this timeline. I really do. When we were kids, a drill meant walking out to the playground because someone burned toast in the teachers' lounge. Now our babies are learning how to hide quietly in closets so bad guys can't find them. It makes me want to vomit.

I spent like three hours scrolling through child psychology blogs trying to figure out how to talk to her about it. That expert Dr. Laura Markham said something about how kids under seven can't really distinguish a practice from a real threat, which makes perfect sense but also shatters my heart into a million pieces. Then another psychologist was talking about how we've to keep stable our own nervous systems before we talk to our kids about this stuff because they absorb our nonverbal cues.

Right. Sure. Let me just magically keep stable my nervous system while contemplating the absolute worst-case scenario. Easy.

But I tried to just breathe through my own panic sweat and sit on the edge of her bed and listen to her talk about it like a normal human instead of a terrified hostage trying to fix everything at once. I asked her what the drill was like for her, and she said her legs got tired from sitting cross-legged in the dark. I didn't tell her everything is always going to be completely fine because kids know when you're lying, but I did remind her that her teacher Mrs. Gable is a safe adult and her whole job is to keep her safe. It sort of worked. She went to sleep. I stayed awake staring at the wall until David asked me if I was plotting a murder.


If you're also trying desperately to fill your home with natural, safe, and calming things to counteract the chaos of the outside world, you should probably just browse through Kianao’s organic baby essentials collection before you lose your mind in a fluorescent-lit big box store.

Meanwhile Leo just wants a toy tool set

And then, to add insult to injury to your already fragile mental state, Leo has decided his favorite thing in the world is tools. He wants a hammer. He wants a wrench. He desperately wants a literal toy baby d—a drill, to fix the coffee table he already dented with a wooden block.

Meanwhile Leo just wants a toy tool set — What The Drill Baby Drill Slogan Actually Means For Parents

You went to Target last week and stood in the toy aisle looking at those neon orange and green plastic drill sets. They require like four AA batteries, they make this horrific screeching whining sound, and they're entirely made of the exact petroleum-based plastics we're supposedly trying to save the world from.

I refused to buy it.

David said I was being dramatic and that a four-year-old doesn't care about the carbon footprint of his toys, which is true, but I CARE, David. I CARE.

So we compromise on sustainable toys. This is why I'm so obsessed with finding wooden alternatives. When Leo was a bit younger, one of the best things we ever brought into the house was the Wooden Baby Gym | Rainbow Play Gym Set with Animal Toys. Seriously, if you've a baby, skip the garish plastic monstrosities that light up and play tinny, out-of-tune classical music. This wooden gym is actually beautiful. It’s made from responsibly sourced wood, it has these gentle, earthy tones, and it doesn’t overstimulate them. Leo used to just lie under it and bat at the little wooden rings and the fabric elephant, and it was so peaceful. It’s Montessori-inspired, which makes me feel like a much better mom than I honestly am, and most importantly, it isn't destined to sit in a landfill for four centuries.

Speaking of things going in Leo's mouth, I should probably mention the Panda Teether Silicone Baby Bamboo Chew Toy. I bought this during the dark days of the molar emergence. Look, it’s... fine. It's really cute, and it's made of 100% food-grade silicone so it’s BPA-free and non-toxic, which was my baseline requirement. You can throw it in the fridge to get it cold, which definitely helped when Leo was acting like a feral badger from the gum pain. Is it a magical heirloom piece that I'll pass down to my grandchildren? No. It’s a silicone panda you give your kid so they stop screaming in the grocery store. It does exactly what it needs to do, it cleans easily in the dishwasher, and honestly, sometimes that’s all we need to survive a Tuesday.

Taking a breath

So look, Sarah from six months ago. The news is going to keep screaming about drilling for oil. The school is going to keep sending home permission slips for lockdown drills that make you want to homeschool your kids in a bunker. And your kids are going to keep asking for loud, plastic toys.

You can't fix all of it. You're just one very tired woman in sweatpants.

But you can make choices that make your own little corner of the world feel a bit safer and a bit cleaner. buy the organic cotton, choose the wooden toys, take a deep breath before you talk to Maya about the scary stuff - whatever keeps them busy. You're doing okay. Now go find that left sneaker, it’s honestly behind the TV stand.

If you’re ready to at least control the little things—like the literal materials your baby sleeps and plays in—check out Kianao's full collection of sustainable, eco-friendly essentials right now and take a deep breath.

The Messy Answers to Your Anxious Questions

What does the whole drill baby drill meaning really have to do with climate change?
Okay, so basically it's a political slogan that pushes for aggressively expanding fossil fuel extraction, like offshore drilling. My understanding—filtered through sheer panic—is that scientists are saying we need to drastically cut carbon emissions by 2030 to keep the planet from overheating (the 1.5C threshold thing). So basically, chanting for more drilling is the exact opposite of what we need to be doing if we want our kids to have a habitable planet. Hence, my eye twitch.

How the hell do you talk to a young kid about school lockdown drills?
With a lot of deep breathing beforehand. Don't just blurt out "there are bad guys." The experts say kids under 7 don't really get the difference between a drill and a real event, so keep it super basic. I just ask Maya what she felt, validate that sitting in the dark is weird and scary, and remind her that her teachers are safe adults whose job is to protect her. And then I go cry in the pantry.

Are wooden toys really that much better than a plastic toy baby drill?
Yes! Honestly, yes. Aside from the fact that wooden toys don't require batteries or make horrific electronic noises that will drive you insane, they're so much better for the environment. Cheap plastic toys are made from petroleum (tying right back into the fossil fuel problem) and end up in landfills forever. Wooden toys, like the Rainbow Play Gym, help with fine motor skills without the toxic paints and microplastics.

How do I deal with the constant eco-anxiety as a parent?
If you figure out the perfect answer, please text me. But really, you just have to focus on what you can control in your own house. I vote, I try to stay informed without spiraling, and I buy sustainable, organic products from brands that seriously care about the planet. It feels like a drop in the bucket, but voting with your dollars is real. And drink some water, you're probably dehydrated.