"The Story of Stuff" is the stuff of legend in classrooms across the country -- and now, my small town in Maine. This short film by activist Annie Leonard documents the travels of stuff -- the consumer goods we buy and use and toss -- and their impact on the environment. The free 20-minute video was the subject of a New York Times story that documented how its anti-materialistic message has taken classrooms by storm. That's because teachers itching to explain climate change can't find more than a passing explanation in their traditional textbooks. The Times reports that some 6 million people have viewed the movie on the Web, millions more on YouTube, and more than 7,000 schools, churches and people have ordered DVDs.

Last night, I talked a handful of my girlfriends into watching it with me so we could see why teachers everywhere are using it get teens talking about the plague of our consumer culture. Seems that if we buy less, we might just save the world.

Here's why: Annie Leonard, a former Greenpeace employee, wrote the film after spending years investigating the travels of trash across the globe. Leonard also narrates the story of "stuff" (depicted as line-drawn cartoons); she's clear and often funny, the way people who really know what they're talking about often are. It doesn't hurt that the film was produced by Free Range Studios, the group behind socially minded, web-based films like "The Meatrix" and "Grocery Store Wars." (The project was bankrolled by The Sustainability Funders and Tides Foundation.)

True stewardship requires good habits. Luckily for me, good habits can be learned. In my own adventures in parenting, imitation seems to be the most reliable teacher. That has its drawbacks: I no longer swear, which I used to enjoy. But it also forces me to be a better person, someone worthy of modeling. Today, of all days, we all can show our kids what it means to cherish the earth. Be a quiet guide and they'll follow in your steady footprints.

There are countless simple ways to get started. For all children, "doing" will stay with them far longer than "learning." That's especially true for young ones, for whom the idea of a threatened planet and dwindling life-giving resources may be overwhelming (I know it is for me). Instead, focus on what good they can do.

Good work is a good start: Plant trees in your town, work in your garden or clean up your local beach. Whatever you do, resist the urge to instruct young children (they won't hear a word you say anyway). Instead, take on the challenge yourself -- and pick one habit to change:

Mud pies. Puddle slogging. Dirty fingernails. Grass-stained knees. They're all in a day's work for my boys, proud members of the Unwashed Masses of Childhood.

Just when I'm feeling a bit too relaxed about my hands-off approach, arrives a serious crop of scientists to back up my instincts. Don't you just love when that happens? Turns out, getting dirty is critical to your kids' healthy development. Send them outside to play, experts say -- and don't wash them up before dinner.

"Dirt is good," says immunologist Dr. Mary Ruebush. "If your child isn't coming in dirty every day, they're not doing their job. They're not building their immunological army." And if you're not letting them, you're not doing yours, either. Her advice: Let kids play in the dirt, vaccinate your kids and use regular soap and water.

In my chaotic work-from-home universe, laundry tumbles into dishwasher loading until the cuckoo clock coos nap time. Then I write, call, email and think like a mad woman -- until a couple of hours later, when I hear the sleepy cry for "Mama."

My family and I have "quantity time" a plenty.

I know, I know. What the hell is "quality time," and are you having it with your kids? Quality time seems like a concept devised torture parents who ache for their little ones so much that they cram whatever fun and bonding they've missed all day into the worst part of what remains, the time between when we punch out and tuck them in.

Here's my take: "Quality time" is a curse. Like you, I live in the real world, one in which my sweet boys slowly melt into mush at about 5 p.m. And that's if they've had a nap. Whenever I attempt to create happy memories on cue, I always fail. I lose it. Tears usually ensue. What I can do is set the stage for something much less dramatic: Unhurried time.

Breastfeeding is all over the news. There's Salma Hayek nursing the starving baby of another woman on a UNICEF fact-finding trip to Sierra Leone. Here's new mom Naomi Watts crediting her trim post-baby figure to breastfeeding: "He's sucking it all out of me." Don't overlook the Facebook dust-up, where members are posting nurse-ins in response to site's decision to ban breastfeeding photos.

Perhaps the most jarring of all reports, though, are the so-called extreme breastfeeders.


Knowing the cost, health and bonding benefits, most new moms plan to nurse for a few months, even a year. What about when that year turns to four or five, or more? It happens more than you'd think.

Mary Pennington of Durham, ME, remembered thinking that her older sister, who nursed one of her children until the age of three, was a little odd. "I didn't get it," she told ParentDish. "If you'd told me that I'd be nursing a four-and-a-half year old, I'd say 'You're crazy.' But I don't think you're prepared for the changes in what you might feel once you have a baby."