This post was sponsored by WaterWipes as part of an Influencer Activation for Influence Central. I received complimentary products to facilitate my review.
I’m not going to lie to you. There’s nothing that I find cuter than a really messy kid. I mean, bonus points if I’m not obligated to clean the kid, but even that is kind of irresistible. Take a look at Ellie up there. She’s a drippy, sticky mess. There’s ice cream in her hair, her eyebrows, and I even found some smudged on her chunky little ankles. And do you know what? The kid could not care less. She’s completely lost in a moment of pure bliss. There’s really nothing more enjoyable for a momma to watch.
That said, the whole cleaning her up part is much less enjoyable. First, there’s the enormity of the task at hand (what is the best way to make a kid stand when almost every inch of her is covered in chocolate?). Then there’s the fact that I’m becoming more and more neurotic about the products I use. It started out with our cleaning products and has slowly moved into products that we use on our bodies. I find myself wanting to use the most gentle, natural products I can find.
When I was younger, I never really gave a second thought to the ingredients in my cleaning products. As long as they did their jobs, who cares, right? But then I had a baby. And babies? They bring out the neurotic in people. Suddenly I was really thinking about my cleaning products. It started with the bathtub. The thought of cleaning it out with harsh chemicals and then plopping a fresh new human inside made me a little crazy.
When she got bigger, I started to think twice about the products I used to wipe down toys and tables and her high chair tray. When everything finds its way directly into her mouth, did I really want it coated in chemicals?
For me, the answer was a big, fat, bold, NO. And that no got bigger and bolder once my second (much messier) daughter was born.
Since then, I’ve tried a bunch of different products and found some that I loved and some that I hated.
I know the title of this post probably has about half of you turning your noses up and doing a little shudder. I get it. The idea of ditching what is widely considered a personal hygiene staple might seem totally bizarre. I mean, I’m sure I thought it was crazy the first time I heard about the whole “No Poo” thing (that term is so gross).
But, as with most things, I was slowly pulled towards it until I finally decided to brave it. And you know what? I haven’t washed my hair with shampoo in nine months—and not once has anyone questioned my hair routine (and believe me, there are people in my life who would have no problem asking why I’m such a greaseball).
The other day I was looking around my disgusting mess of a bedroom, trying to figure out where the heck to start the 40 Bags in 40 Days Challenge (if you’re unfamiliar, it’s basically spring cleaning with community support). That’s when it hit me. For someone who has so many organization and cleaning posts on her blog, I’m a pretty big slob.
I mean, I try. I do. Even if my husband disagrees. I just tend to get overwhelmed with life and prioritizing. Cleaning is generally the first thing that gets removed from ye olde list of must dos. But I am trying. Mostly because I just can’t handle the clutter anymore. It’s making me even more crazy and flustered and disorganized.
So I took a deep breath and I did it. I got something done. Like a boss.
A super simple way to remove sticky residue naturally—and make recycled bottle vases.
I’ve turned my kids into hoarders. I’m not sure if it’s nature or nurture, but it’s happening. While I might complain about the constant accumulation of scraps of paper, junky plastic mementos, and wrappers that smell like their favorite candy, these girls of mine definitely got their inability to let things go from their momma.
I absolutely loathe throwing something out that is still perfectly useful—even if I’m not sure how it might be useful to me at this very moment. Sometimes I’m good and I throw everything into a donate pile. Other times, not so much. I stash things in a closet or a drawer or in a pile on the dining room table waiting for some sort of inspiration to strike.
So it was with a few empty bottles. I know. Just throw them in the recycling, right? I couldn’t do it. I shoved them into a corner of the dining room hoping my husband wouldn’t notice them while I tried to figure out a way to repurpose them. Days went by, but when the rose of Sharon bushes outside my front door started blooming, inspiration struck.
Vases from the florist are usually pretty boring. I get it, they’re not the star of the show. But I like something a little more quirky and interesting. My bottles—which were actually a wine bottle, a syrup bottle, and an empty candle jar—totally fit the bill. My only obstacle was that sticky residue labels leave behind. And I figured out an easy way to get rid of it.