For a while, I have been wanting to try a DIY Febreeze recipe, but the only recipes I can find include store-bought fabric softener. Well, I ditched the store bought fabric softener for a homemade recipe.

Scouring the internet did not find a good alternative. That left me with a couple of options. 1.) I could buy store-bought fabric softener purposed only for the DIY Febreeze or 2.) I could use my homemade fabric softener.

While that sounds easy enough, my homemade fabric softener has vinegar in it. The heat of the dryer is what kills that unmistakable odor of vinegar. I was curious if I could make a DIY Febreeze with vinegar if the final product would be very…..pleasant.

Today the even bigger question to “Is it Worth it?” is “Are my fabrics going to smell overwhelmingly like a rancid Easter concoction?”

What you need

1. 3 tbsp of fabric softener (DIY recipe is here.)

2. 1 tbsp of baking powder

3. 2-3 cups of hot water

4. essential oils 

5. empty squirt bottle

What to do

This is a dump and stir situation.

1. Pour all ingredients into squirt bottle (adjust measurements as needed to fit your bottle).

2. Shake it.

Is it worth it? 

I first tried this little recipe on a couple of my husband’s shirts. I have found that I have to remember to shake the bottle or a tad bit of that vinegar smelling residue will linger. I shake the bottle EVERY time I use it.

The scent of the DIY Febreeze is limited to the essential oils that you mix into it . I added lemon (a disinfectant and energy booster) and lavender (a calming relaxer). The DIY Febreeze had a very light and subtle scent. It’s nothing like the strength of the store-bought, but it definitely killed odors in the closet and on the couch and on the curtains….I may have become a little excited once I realized the vinegar wouldn’t be an issue.

Is it worth it? I say, “Yes!”. Not only is it cheaper, it’s the void of chemicals. And it does more than kill odors. With the vinegar, baking soda and essential oils, my Febreeze is killing germs and lifting moods all over our home.

On facebook, I asked what has been some Mamas’ favorite Mother’s Day comments and responses from the kids’ perspective:

“My mom is as pretty as a dog.” ~ Ava, age 5

“My mom looks pretty when she wears a new dress.

I love my mom as much as a dog.” ~ Ty, age 7

“I know my mom is smart because she told me.

I love my mom because she works so hard at being patient.” ~ Elizabeth, age 10

“I love my because she reads me the Bible.” ~ Camille, age 10

Nathan: “Mom, if I didn’t have you I would eat dirt”
Mom: “Why, because you wouldn’t have anyone to cook for you?
Nathan:”No, because you wouldn’t be able to tell me not too.” ~Nathan, age 6

Description of mom: “purple hair, green eyes, happy teeth and is taller than me” ~ Sophie (will be 3 years in July)

Happy Mother’s Day greeting from a toddler: “Lane came busting in yelling, ‘Hoppy bufday, Mommy!’”

An extra sweet card for Grandma: “We wrote on my moms Mother’s Day card: ‘Grandmas are just moms with more f r o s t i n g!!!’”

3 year-old Eli’s take on why we have Mother’s Day: “Be’tause it all ‘da mamas birfday today. And ‘dey gets cakes.”

the reason I celebrate <3

What was your favorite kid quote this Mother’s Day? 

A hand-made card from a little one is always the best gift. But I added a bit of a twist. We turned 3 year-old Eli’s masterpiece into cut out letters for a teacher thank-you note.

what we used: 

* 2 plain sheets of scrapbook paper

*several markers in coordinating colors

*A Cricut (This is just what we have on hand. Stencils would work nicely as well.)

*patterned scrapbook paper

how we made this craft: 

1. Eli drew his masterpiece in gray marker all over a plain sheet of scrapbook paper.

“It’s a bear and a wrocket ships and a dinosauwr that saysth ‘ROAR!’”

2. I used the Cricut to cut out “Thank you.” from Eli’s masterpiece. If you don’t have a Cricut, use stencils and a straight edge. Use a little one’s delightful doodles for flowers and other fun shapes. Layer different colors to create a new masterpiece from the original.

3. Because I used scrapbook paper, I folded the card into a triangle. It wasn’t what I had first intended, but it was an odd size for a traditional card. So, we went with it like we meant it

3. After I glued down the letters, I outlined them to add contrast (since I ended up using the same color for both the card and the doodles).

4. Eli wrote “thank you” at the bottom of the card. He is a beginning writer and reader, so I told him each letter to write. He was very upset that he messed up the “N” but I adore it. I told him it shows how much he has learned and that he is still learning.

5. With the patterned paper, I cut out several hearts and pasted them down.

6. The inside of the card was all about expressing our appreciation for Eli’s preschool teacher.

Eli even signed his name <3

a letter of thanks

The world may celebrate you 1 day of the year, but I cherish you all 365 days.

<3

Happy Mother’s Day Week, Mamas.

Celebrate you.

“Mama, do you have scareds?”

“No, I sure don’t.”

“Me nee’dur. ‘Dis house, Eli house, is not spooky.”

“No?”

“Oh no. Be’tause God mades ‘dis house. He mades it. And it His house. He pwrotects us all ‘da days and all ‘da nights. My Mama, ‘dis house just can’ts be spooky be’tause God lives here. Whew! And I’s so glad He takes my bad dwreams. It makes me feel happy and safe and not scareds in my heart.”

“How was your day at school?”

“It was gwreats! Well most of ‘da days. But one part makes me fuhrustwrated.”

“Which part?”

“Wells. Be’tause I likes to pwlay all ‘da games: race cars, soccewr ball, tea pawrty, babies, books….. ALL ‘da games.”

“I see.”

“Yeah. But my fwriend only like to pwlay soccewr ball and race cars. He really not good at pwlaying tea pawrty.”

“Mhmm.”

“But I didn’t tell his fweelings ‘dat about tea pawrties. Well, you know. Sometimes fweelings are sensitivthes.”

My curly headed boy and I were bent over our roses when we first heard it. “Listen,” I whispered. Eli cupped his hand to his ears. With all of his might, he listened.

Slowly a grin spread across his face. He brushed back his curls, “‘Dose are ‘wittle biwrds. I heawrs ‘dem to muh eawrs.”

On our fence post hangs a bird house. It isn’t a special type or even very much to look at. But little Eli and I have been mulling about the thought that there might be baby birds before the spring is out. Now the quick, hungry chirping of birds cried out from that bird house.

We listened intently. Neither of us barely breathing. Neither of us moving. “Lay down, my mama. So we’s can hears ‘dem ‘da whole day.”

As quietly as we could, we found a spot. My curly headed boy and I rested on the cool sidewalk. Eli reached for me. His fingers traced my hand as we pondered the family of birds who picked our backyard to live. “I t’inks ‘dere three of ‘dem. I bet they nice. I hope ‘dey wants to be my fwriends,” he sighed.

I closed my eyes. I soaked in the spring sunshine, gentle and warm. I breathed the scent of blooming honeysuckle. I got lost in the sound of his voice.

Contently we laid there. I’m not sure how long, but as long we were there, as long as we rested, as long as we imagined, as long as we felt that Texas breeze, our little world was just right.

The restaurant was packed as it normally is on Thursday nights. The scent of American diner food wafted through the glass doors. The bakery counter glistened with decadent pies and rich cakes. Sweet teas clattered in happy guests’ glasses. That unmistakable Texas drawl filled the dining room. Our evening was casual, relaxed and centered around family.

We piled into our booth. Little Eli bounced about as he not-so-patiently awaited his food. The family chatted. Eli rolled his matchbox cars over table, around drinks, on top of sugar packets and through our hands.

Our family settled into catch-ups of the day and giggled over happenings with students.  I overheard a snicker from the next table. I didn’t pay much attention. A few more snickers and some nudges got the best of my curiosity. I began to glance around to find out the source of everyone’s entertainment.

I screamed out, “STOP!” as I saw my 3 year-old face pressed to the partition glass. His tongue slurped the window and a single droplet of spittle raced down the glass. On the other side of the window, a man sat opened mouth with his burger hanging out. His face was pale. The burger faced man looked ill.

My slobber face preschooler looked bewildered, “What?! I’s just beings a puppy!” His face promptly was suctioned back to the partition window.

“Now is NOT the time. PLEASE remove your face from the window.”

Eli wiped his drenched face. My mother-in-law quickly mopped up the window. My husband shook his head as he attemtped to explain to our 3 year-old appropriate times to play puppy.

Eli shrugged and settled back into racing his cars on the racetrack of the table. I glanced at my husband and then at my mother-in-law. We all swallowed our grins as my mother-in-law wiped the last tongue print off of the glass.

About a month ago, on Eli’s 3rd birthday, he received a tricycle. And since that day, he has been trying to master the steering of said tricycle.

On such a beautiful Texas spring day, Eli and I decided it was the perfect time for another tricycle lesson.

I was trying. I tried to give instructions like, “Point your wheel where you want to go” and “Straighten it up.” He was trying. He pointed to his wheel and showed it where to go. He sat up very straight and tall. All of the trying between the two of us did not open our line of communication. I didn’t know another way to word the instructions. He didn’t know how to put these abstract instructions into workable action.

We both sighed. I collapsed onto the curb. The sun was beaming down on top of us. Little Eli leaned his chin onto the handlebars and pushed back soggy curls. His persistence showed in his furrowed brow. His weariness showed in his down-turned eyes. I smiled at him and patted his arm. “We’ll get this.” He nodded. I wasn’t sure if it was a nod in agreement or just in acknowledgement.

I stood up and brushed off the East Texas pollen from my yoga pants. He waited patiently for instructions. “Just drive,” I shrugged. I swear I could see my cautious child’s heart skip a beat. But he stretched his legs to reach the pedals and slowly began to inch down the street.

I stayed close. I grabbed the handle every time a car turned our way. I pushed him up hills and slowed him on the downward slopes. But I didn’t say a word.

The first time he ran into the curb, he quickly looked back at me. I smiled, “What do we do?” For a moment, he pondered that question. His eyes darted from his dangling legs to his pedals to the curb. Suddenly, he picked his tricycle up and physically turned it back towards the street. This happened a few more times.

I continued to support him, to follow him, to protect him. But I stayed quiet. I watched him learn.

Within a few run-ins with the curb, he began to steer before the collision. Before long, he was taking corners without slowing down. By the time we arrived at our favorite walking trail, I was jogging to keep up with the plastic wheels clicking on the pavement.

The moment I stepped back…let’s be honest: the moment I stopped hovering…my little one was able to rely on his problem-solving skills to find out how to drive his tricycle. I never left his side. I was there for any moment that he would need me. I was there to keep him safe and to encourage him. But I let this learning experience be about how he needed to learn, not how I knew how to teach. THEN he was able to figure it out.

We finally made it to the park. He raced down the slide and tried to touch the clouds in the swing. Our cheeks were pink with excitement, play and sun.

On our way back home, I noticed that my newly pro tricyclist was starting to go off course. When I inquired what was going on, my curly headed boy responded, “I can’t drives my bicycles and swleeps.”

That last bit of the trek was a challenge as I pushed a tricycle and carried my snoring not-so-baby boy. In fact, I had to call my husband to come rescue us just a couple of blocks from home.

Today Eli learned how to steer his tricycle. Today I learned to trust my son’s learning process. It wasn’t without its mistakes, but from his mistakes he was able to overcome and to conquer what he has been working towards for weeks. Today my curly headed boy is a bit more independent, a bit more grown up and a lot more confident in his own learning process.

“How dreadful! I’m sorry you got hurt. Does it still hurt?”

“Oh, no. It’s bettewr now. But I do needs a sticker fors my knees. I saw ‘da red on it and I cwried.”

“Which band-aid would you like? Is there still blood?”

“‘Da Thomas Twrains sticker. ‘Da red is all gones.”

“What happened when you fell down?”

“Wells, I was puhlaying. We plays chase and get each others. And I runned into my fwriend, T. We both fells down. But I’s ‘da one with ‘da red on my knees. And ‘da mud! I had to washes my legs withs ‘da wash-rag. It was gucky.”

“Was T okay?”

“Yes. He was not huwrt. But he still was sad.”

“Why was he sad?”

“He said he sowwry for ‘da fall down. He a good fwriend. A really, really good fwriend. He  took cares of me. It was just an aczthident. And you know, aczthidents happen sometimesth.”