What to Do When You Look Outside and See a Baby Rat Near Your Kids

It was 6:15 on a freezing Tuesday morning, and I was standing in my kitchen wearing a pair of inside-out Target leggings—you know the ones with the side pocket that always sags?—drinking my third espresso because Maya was going through that horrific four-month sleep regression where they just wake up every hour to stare at the wall. My seven-year-old, Leo, was pressing his greasy forehead against the sliding glass patio door.

Suddenly, he slammed his hand against the glass. "Mom! Rat baby! Look outside!"

I literally inhaled a mouthful of hot coffee. I coughed so hard I thought I was going to pull a rib muscle, shoved past my son, and peered through the smudged glass. There, sitting on our patio furniture like it was waiting for a mimosa, was a small, aggressively round rodent with a thick, scaly tail. It wasn't a mouse. Mice are kind of... delicate? This thing looked like a miniature bouncer at a nightclub.

And right behind me, Maya was doing that army-crawl thing across the living room rug, dragging her little body toward the glass door, putting her wet hands on the exact floor where this creature’s extended family had probably been tap-dancing all night.

The biggest myth about motherhood is that you somehow instantly become this capable, fearless protector of the realm when danger strikes, but honestly, my first instinct was to just sell the house. Just list it on Zillow as-is and move to a high-rise in the city where nature can’t find me.

Anyway, the point is, finding a rodent anywhere near your house when you've babies is a completely specific type of panic. Because babies lick the floor. They lick the floor, they lick their hands, they lick the bottom of your shoes.

The great poison pellet myth

Here's what happens when you tell people you've a rat problem: everyone suddenly becomes an amateur exterminator and tells you to just go to the hardware store and buy those buckets of neon green poison pellets. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

My doctor, Dr. Aris, who's basically my therapist at this point because I call him about everything, told me once during a routine checkup that traditional rodenticides are one of the biggest accidental poisoning risks for toddlers. He was like, Sarah, don't ever put that stuff in your house because those pellets look exactly like the stray snacks your kids already eat off the floor.

Plus, even if you hide the poison, the rat eats it, wanders off, and dies somewhere in your walls, or worse, out in the yard where a neighborhood cat or a bird eats it, and then you’re basically poisoning the whole food chain.

So instead of frantically buying toxic neon chemicals that your crawling baby might find or setting up those ridiculous humane catch-and-release traps that never actually work because the rodents just eat the bait and laugh at you, you basically just need to put on some heavy winter gloves, physically block your kids from entering the room, and immediately call an actual professional who uses tamper-proof snap-boxes.

What Dr. Aris actually told me about floor germs

The thing that kept me up at night wasn't the idea of the rat biting Maya. It’s not like they're tiny assassins waiting to jump on your baby. It’s the invisible stuff.

Dr. Aris explained that rats carry pathogens in their urine and saliva—god, just typing that makes my skin crawl—and they leave this microscopic trail wherever they walk. He mentioned something about hantavirus and maybe leptospirosis? I don't completely understand the science of how it all works, but he said their dried droppings and dander basically turn into dust, and when a baby crawls through it and breathes it in, it can trigger some really severe allergic reactions or asthma.

Knowing that, I looked at Maya on the floor and panicked. I immediately scooped her up. She dropped her Zebra Rattle Tooth Ring onto the rug, which was fine, it’s a perfectly good little teether because the black and white stripes keep her focused during diaper changes, though honestly she vastly prefers chewing on my dirty car keys or the TV remote. But seeing that wooden ring roll across the floor where I now assumed a thousand invisible rat footprints were hiding made my stomach completely drop.

I needed to contain her while I figured out what the hell to do. I plopped her down on the sofa under her Panda Play Gym Set. I actually really love this thing because it’s wooden and gray and doesn't look like a plastic neon explosion in the middle of my living room, and the little crocheted panda gave her something to bat at so I could have exactly four minutes to aggressively Google "how to clean floors after rats."

My husband's useless obsession with peppermint oil

When my husband Dave finally came downstairs, I was deep in a panic spiral. His immediate solution? Key oils.

Dave is a great guy, but he read one blog post somewhere that said rodents hate the smell of peppermint, so he decided he was going to DIY our pest control. He literally took a bottle of highly concentrated peppermint oil and started dousing the baseboards by the patio door. Within ten minutes, our entire downstairs smelled like an aggressive, angry candy cane.

The problem is, infant respiratory systems are super delicate. Maya started sneezing almost immediately. I had to yell at him to stop because dumping concentrated key oils right at the exact level where our baby breathes is probably just as irritating to her lungs as the rat dust. Oh, and those high-pitch ultrasonic plug-in repellers are a complete scam, by the way.

I ended up wiping up all of Dave's oil with a towel and instead, we spent the afternoon doing what you're really supposed to do: exclusion. Which is just a fancy exterminator word for "finding every tiny crack in your house and plugging it with steel wool." Because apparently, rats can squeeze their gross little bodies through a hole the size of a quarter. A QUARTER.

If you're looking to upgrade your baby's safe spaces while you scrub your baseboards, you might want to check out Kianao's beautiful collection of wooden play gyms and organic accessories to keep them happily contained.

The playmat barrier method

Once Gary the exterminator came (who was lovely and assured me that finding one rat outside doesn't mean they're plotting a hostile takeover of my pantry, they just get displaced by weather sometimes), I still had severe floor anxiety. I spent two days washing the hardwoods with baby-safe soap and hot water.

But I still needed a mental barrier between Maya and the ground. I started laying down my absolute favorite Organic Cotton Playful Penguin Blanket everywhere she played. I've to talk about this blanket for a second because it’s literally survived the trenches of motherhood with me. It’s double-layered organic cotton, so it's thick enough to feel like a real protective mat over the rug, and the black and yellow penguin print is so cute. I bought the giant 120x120cm one, and it's my go-to "safe zone" drop cloth. If we were out on the grass? Penguin blanket. Living room floor? Penguin blanket. It washes like a dream, which is key because within a day Maya had already mashed half a banana into the corner of it.

Leo was thoroughly disappointed that we didn't keep the "puppy" as a pet. He was standing there in his Retro Organic Cotton Ringer Tee—which makes him look like a tiny 1990s camp counselor and is basically the only shirt he'll wear because the ribbed fabric doesn't scratch his neck—pouting while Gary the exterminator took away the traps.

Look, seeing a rodent near your house when you've small kids is jarring. It makes you feel like your safe little nest is compromised. But you don't need to panic, and you definitely don't need to buy poison. You just need a good professional, a lot of steel wool, and a really thick blanket to put your baby on until you stop feeling paranoid.

Need to refresh your baby's essentials with materials you can seriously trust? Explore our full collection of organic baby blankets and gear for your peace of mind.

Messy, Honest FAQs About Kids and Pests

Are those plug-in ultrasonic things safe for babies?

Honestly, I don't even know if they're "safe" because they don't do anything at all. My brother-in-law bought like ten of them for his garage and said the mice literally built a nest on top of one. They just emit a high-pitched noise that humans supposedly can't hear, but I swear my seven-year-old said he could hear it buzzing, so we threw them out. Just save your money and seal your doors.

What if my baby really touches a mouse trap?

This was my biggest nightmare. If you use a professional, they should put the snap traps inside these heavy black plastic lockboxes that require a special key to open. A baby physically can't get their fingers inside to the trap. If you're buying those cheap wooden snap traps from the grocery store and just laying them on the floor? Oh god, don't do that. A crawling baby will absolutely snap their fingers in it. Professional lockboxes only!

Can I use peppermint oil instead of calling an exterminator?

As I learned from my husband's little science experiment, no. Aside from the fact that it doesn't genuinely solve the problem (they just walk around the smelly spot), strong key oils are super volatile. Pouring them all over the floor where your baby does tummy time can really irritate their little developing lungs and eyes. Dr. Aris told me to keep strong aromatics away from Maya until she's older anyway.

How do I clean the floor if I know a rat was there?

Don't sweep or vacuum first! I learned this the hard way at 2 AM on Google. Sweeping kicks the dried urine and dander dust up into the air where you and your baby can breathe it in. You have to spray the area with a wet disinfectant first—I just used a baby-safe enzyme cleaner and hot soapy water—let it soak so the dust gets heavy and wet, and then wipe it up with paper towels that you immediately throw in the outside trash. Wash your hands like you're scrubbing in for surgery afterward.