Surviving The Baby Gap Outlet, Tooth Spacing & Sibling Years

I was standing under these aggressively buzzing fluorescent lights with a lukewarm, half-spilled oat milk latte leaking condensation all over my hand, clutching three pairs of tiny, stiff denim pants. Leo was four months old, strapped to my chest in a carrier that I definitely hadn’t adjusted correctly, screaming the kind of high-pitched wail that makes the back of your neck sweat. My husband, Dave, was somewhere outside the store eating a soft pretzel, blissfully unaware that I was currently having an absolute existential crisis inside the baby gap outlet over whether a size 6-12 months meant it would fit a six-month-old now or a twelve-month-old later.

I mean, why do we do this to ourselves? We cram our strollers into these chaotic outlet malls because there's a giant red sign in the window promising forty percent off already reduced prices, and suddenly we lose all our common sense. I was specifically hunting for this one tiny baby gap fleece sweater I'd seen online with a little retro "baby G" logo embroidered on the pocket—which I never found, by the way—but instead, I walked out with eighty dollars worth of multipacks and corduroy that honestly caused me more problems than it solved.

Parenthood is basically just navigating a series of gaps. The gaps in the clothing sizes. The literal gaps in your kid's teeth. The agonizing math of the age gap between your children. It's all just one giant guessing game where you're constantly convinced you've made the wrong choice. Anyway, the point is, I learned a lot of lessons the hard way so you don't have to.

The sizing math requires a whiteboard

Listen, I love a deal. Hell, I live for a deal. But when you buy clothes at outlet stores, you're playing a very specific, very risky game of textile roulette. You buy mainline stuff and it's pretty standard, right? But the outlet is a whole different beast.

I washed those little pants I bought that day exactly once on cold. ONE TIME. And they shrunk so much I could have put them on a Build-A-Bear. And not even a large Build-A-Bear. It’s like the width stayed exactly the same but the legs just retracted into the fabric. So Leo ended up looking like he was wearing weird, stiff denim capris, which is really not a great look for a baby who's already shaped like a very cute potato.

Plus, the materials are totally different. To keep those outlet prices down, brands use a lot of cheaper synthetic blends. I didn't even think about it until Leo developed this awful, angry red rash on his thighs and behind his knees. I spent three weeks aggressively moisturizing him with coconut oil, panicking that he had some rare skin condition.

Then we went to his checkup. Our doctor, Dr. Miller, was watching Leo try to eat the crinkly paper on the exam table, and she just casually felt the fabric of his cute little outlet pants. She told me that synthetic blends basically trap heat and moisture, creating a tiny, irritating sauna against his skin, which was triggering a massive eczema flare-up. I felt like the worst mother on the planet. Crap.

So you end up spending more money trying to fix the skin problems caused by the cheap clothes than if you'd just bought the good stuff to begin with. Which is why I ended up throwing away most of that outlet haul and basically living in the Organic Baby Romper Long Sleeve Henley Winter Bodysuit from Kianao. It’s actual organic cotton with a tiny bit of stretch, so Leo’s skin could finally breathe and the red patches cleared up in like, a week. Plus, the little henley buttons at the neck meant I wasn't stretching the collar out trying to yank it over his massive head during those frantic bathroom diaper blowouts where you're just praying you don't drop the clean wipes on the public floor. Just stick to the good, breathable fabrics and save yourself the dermatology bills. Honestly.

Then there's the actual mouth gap

Because the universe has a highly sarcastic sense of humor, the word "gap" didn't stop haunting my parenting experience after I abandoned the outlet malls. When my daughter Maya was about eight months old, the teething started. And by teething, I mean she turned into a rabid little drool monster who ruined every shirt I owned.

I remember vividly when her top two front teeth finally cut through the gums. I was so relieved the crying was over, until I actually looked in her mouth. There was a MASSIVE space between them. A huge gap. I immediately started spiraling, calculating the cost of pediatric braces and wondering if she was going to have a permanent whistle when she talked.

I brought it up at my own dental cleaning, practically interrogating my dentist while she had a metal hook in my mouth. She actually laughed at me. She explained that gaps in primary baby teeth are not just normal, they're exactly what you want. Apparently, because baby teeth are so tiny and permanent adult teeth are huge, the jaw has to expand and leave those spaces. If baby teeth are perfectly tight and straight, the adult teeth will come in totally crowded and messed up. So the gap is good. The gap means things are working. Who knew?

But getting those gap teeth to come in? Absolute hell. Maya was chewing on the coffee table, her crib rail, Dave's fingers, everything. We tried a bunch of things, but her absolute favorite was the Squirrel Teether Silicone Baby Gum Soother. Maya dragged this mint green thing literally everywhere we went for three months. I loved it because it's 100% food-grade silicone, which means when she inevitably dropped it onto the floor of a Target, I could just throw it in the top rack of the dishwasher when we got home. No weird crevices for mold to grow in.

We also tried the Bear Teething Rattle Wooden Ring Sensory Toy because it looked so beautiful and aesthetic for the nursery. And it IS really well made! The crochet work is gorgeous. But honestly? Maya just used it as a weapon. She would swing the wooden ring around and accidentally whack herself in the forehead, which obviously led to more crying. It's okay, and probably totally fine for younger babies who just want to grasp things, but for aggressive teething, we had to stick to the soft silicone squirrel so no one got a concussion.

And when the teething pain was really bad at night, keeping her temperature regulated became my new obsession. Because she'd wake up sweaty from crying, kick off her covers, and then wake up an hour later because she was freezing. We eventually switched to the Bamboo Baby Blanket because bamboo somehow breathes and keeps them warm at the same time? I don't understand the science, but it stopped the cycle of night sweats and freezing, which meant I actually got to sleep for more than forty-five minutes at a time.

The sibling age math I obsessed over for no reason

Speaking of spaces between things, let's talk about the age gap between your kids.

Oh my god, everyone has an opinion on this. Strangers in the grocery store will literally tell you that if your kids are more than two years apart, they won't be friends. Or if they're less than two years apart, you'll destroy your body. You can't win.

My OB-GYN told me something about how the World Health Organization recommends waiting like, 18 to 24 months between pregnancies so your body can rebuild its iron stores and folate and whatever. Because apparently growing an entire human skeleton from scratch depletes your personal resources. Makes sense.

But honestly? We waited three years between Leo and Maya. Not because of iron stores. Not because of a perfectly curated family planning spreadsheet. We waited three years because we were just so, incredibly tired. Dave and I looked at each other when Leo was 18 months old, both of us holding lukewarm coffees, and were like... nope. We can barely keep the dog alive right now.

And you know what? A three-year gap is fine. They play together sometimes. They fight over plastic dinosaurs sometimes. It's totally fine. Ignore the internet.

Just let them wear soft things and chew

Look, whether you're stressing over a baby gap outlet run that left you with weirdly proportioned toddler jeans, panicking over a space in your kid's smile, or crying over the math of when to have another baby... it all works out. Sort of. You just muddle through it.

Stop overthinking the sizing math and the tooth charts and the pregnancy spacing. Just buy soft clothes that don't give them rashes, hand them something safe to chew on so they stop biting the furniture, and drink your coffee before it gets cold. Or drink it cold. Whatever. We're all just doing our best here.

Browse Kianao's organic cotton baby clothing collection so you can skip the outlet mall fitting room meltdowns altogether.

If you're currently dealing with the drooly nightmare of gap teeth coming in, grab a dishwasher-safe teether before your kid starts gnawing on your baseboards. Shop sustainable teething toys here.

Messy answers to your gap-related questions

Do outlet baby clothes really shrink more?
In my very frustrating experience, YES. They absolutely do. Brands use cheaper fabrics for their factory and outlet lines, which usually means synthetic blends or low-quality cotton that basically retracts the second it touches warm water. If you absolutely have to buy them, size up. Better yet, just buy organic cotton from the start and save yourself the headache of trying to squeeze a chubby baby thigh into a shrunken pant leg.

Is a gap between baby teeth a problem?
Oh my god, no. I panicked about this so hard, but my dentist literally laughed at me. Baby teeth are tiny. Adult teeth are huge. If the baby teeth don't have spaces between them, the adult teeth are going to come in looking like a crowded train car. The gap is a good thing! Let the gap live!

What's the best way to clean teething toys?
If you buy the cheap plastic ones with the little holes in them, mold is going to grow inside and it's gross. Don't do it. Get food-grade silicone (like the Kianao squirrel one I won't shut up about). You can just toss it on the top rack of your dishwasher. I'm way too tired to stand at the sink boiling baby toys at 10 PM. Dishwasher or bust.

Does synthetic clothing really cause eczema?
I mean, I'm not a dermatologist, but our doctor said yes. It doesn't "cause" the underlying eczema, but it absolutely triggers it. Cheap polyester traps sweat and heat against their super sensitive skin, which pisses the skin off and causes a flare-up. Switching Leo to breathable organic cotton was literally the only thing that finally cleared up his legs.

Is there a "perfect" age gap between siblings?
No. The medical people say wait 18 months to let your body heal, which is super valid. But beyond that? Two under two is chaos. A five-year gap is a different kind of chaos. We did three years because we needed a nap. Pick your chaos and just roll with it.