It was November 2017, and I was standing in a Target parking lot sweating through my deodorant while the actual air temperature was roughly twenty-eight degrees. Maya was four months old at the time. I was wearing yoga pants that vaguely smelled of sour milk, and I was on the verge of tears because I couldn't, for the life of me, get the car seat straps to click.

I had stuffed my tiny, fragile infant into this massive, metallic pink puffy snowsuit. She looked like a highly reflective, very angry starfish. Her arms were stuck straight out to the sides, and her little face was just a red, screaming circle surrounded by faux fur. My husband, Dave, was standing outside the open car door holding my iced coffee—because yes, I drink iced coffee in the dead of winter, I know my nervous system is broken—and he just casually goes, "Maybe you just need to push the buckle harder?"

I almost threw the coffee at him.

Anyway, the point is, the biggest lie we're sold as new parents is that cold weather means your baby needs to be insulated like a luxury water heater. We have this deep, primal panic that if our baby isn't visibly sweating, they're actively freezing to death. I spent the first year of motherhood completely obsessed with turning my kid into a marshmallow, which, as it turns out, is actually kind of dangerous.

The car seat revelation that ruined my afternoon

A few days after the Target parking lot incident, I dragged Maya to her checkup. My doctor, Dr. Aris—who has this incredibly soothing voice that always makes me feel like I'm not entirely ruining my child's life—casually mentioned that puffy winter coats in car seats are a massive safety hazard.

I guess what happens is that all that fluffy material is just air. So if you get into a crash, the force of the impact completely compresses the stuffing in the coat. This leaves this huge, terrifying gap between your baby's chest and the harness straps, and they can basically just fly right out of the seat. I literally felt my stomach drop into my shoes when she told me this. I had been driving around for two weeks with my kid strapped into a sleeping bag of air.

Dr. Aris told me to go home and try this test, which you should absolutely do if you hate yourself and want a minor panic attack. You put your baby in their giant winter coat, buckle them into the car seat, and tighten the straps until they pass the pinch test. Then, you unbuckle them WITHOUT loosening the straps at all. Take the baby out, take the coat off, put the baby back in their normal indoor clothes, and buckle them back up.

When I did this with Maya's pink starfish suit, there was literally four inches of slack. I could fit my entire forearm under the harness. Oh god.

So basically, the only safe way to do the car seat in winter is to dress them in thin, really warm layers, strap them in nice and tight, and then tuck a blanket over their lap on top of the harness, or put their coat on backward over their arms like a tiny, cute straitjacket once they're buckled.

Cotton is a liar when it snows

Once I realized I couldn't use the puffy suit of armor in the car, I swung totally in the opposite direction. I figured I'd just put Maya in, like, three layers of 100% cotton. Cotton is breathable! Cotton is natural! Cotton is what all the baby blogs told me to buy!

Cotton is a liar when it snows — The Michelin Man Myth: Dressing Your Baby for Winter Survival

Except cotton is a total traitor in the cold.

I learned this the hard way a few years later with my son, Leo. We had him out at a winter festival thing, and I had him layered in three cotton long-sleeve onesies. He started thrashing around and crying because he was a baby and that's just what they do, and he got a little sweaty. Well, apparently cotton just holds onto moisture like a sponge. It doesn't wick it away. So he sweat, the cotton absorbed it, and then the cold air turned that wet cotton into an icy wet towel against his skin. When we got to the car, his little back was clammy and freezing.

I fell down this massive late-night internet rabbit hole researching organic baby winter clothes and realized that I was doing it all wrong. If you look at how parents handle baby winter clothes switzerland style—like, places where it actually snows aggressively and they still take their kids outside—they rely on different materials. The science is fuzzy in my head, but basically, wool and certain bamboo or synthetic blends actually pull the sweat away from the skin so the baby stays dry and warm. The moisture just evaporates or something. Anyway, cotton is great for lounging on the rug, but as a base layer for outdoor winter survival, it sucks.

If you're trying to figure out what really works without buying absolute plastic garbage, you should probably poke around a curated organic baby clothes collection that really thinks about how fabric behaves in real life.

My honest thoughts on Kianao's winter stuff

Since I had to ditch the cotton-only strategy and the puffy coats, I had to find thin, incredibly warm layers that wouldn't make Leo break out in a weird rash (his skin is so sensitive, a harsh breeze gives him eczema). I tried a bunch of stuff from Kianao. Some of it I'm aggressively obsessed with, and some of it's just... fine.

Let's start with the holy grail. The Baby Sweater Organic Cotton Turtleneck Long Sleeve is quite literally the best winter item I bought for Leo. We had it in this pale turquoise color. I used to be terrified of turtlenecks on babies because I thought I was going to accidentally strangle him, but the neck on this is just a gentle, floppy fold. It's 95% organic cotton mixed with elasthan, so it has this incredible stretch. I'd put this on him as his car-seat-safe layer. It was thin enough that it didn't mess with the harness straps at all, but the high neck kept the draft out. I'm not exaggerating when I say I washed this sweater probably forty times. It survived avocado blowouts, aggressively orange sweet potato puree, and Dave accidentally washing it on hot. It never pilled. It just got softer.

On the flip side, I also bought the Organic Baby Romper Long Sleeve Henley Winter Bodysuit. Okay, look. The fabric itself is stupidly luxurious. It's that same perfect organic stretch material. But the design? It has these three tiny buttons at the henley neckline. If you've one of those calm, instagram-aesthetic babies who just gazes up at you lovingly during outfit changes, this is a beautiful piece of clothing. My kid, however, was a feral raccoon. When I'm running on four hours of sleep and Leo is doing an alligator death-roll on the changing table because he's furious that I'm interrupting his day to put him in clothes, trying to fasten three microscopic buttons is my personal hell. I just couldn't deal with it. I needed snaps or zippers.

That being said, if we're talking about nighttime, I really really liked their Organic Baby Romper Henley Button Long Sleeve Jumpsuit. I know I just ranted about buttons, but for sleepwear, it's a bit different. You put it on once at 6:30 PM. The genius of this jumpsuit is the elastic cuffs at the ankles. When babies sleep, they pull their legs up into that weird little frog pose, right? In normal pajamas, the pant legs ride all the way up to their thighs and their calves freeze. The cuffs on this keep the pants exactly where they're supposed to be.

The great indoor thermostat war with Dave

The other thing nobody tells you is how confusing indoor winter dressing is. Dave is one of those guys who thinks a house in December should feel like a tropical resort. He would walk past the thermostat, bump it to 74 degrees, and walk away.

I'd wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, completely panicked that Leo was roasting alive in his crib. Dr. Aris had told me that a baby's room should really be shockingly cool—like, somewhere between 65 and 68 degrees. I guess cooler rooms are medically linked to a lower risk of SIDS? From what I understand, babies are really bad at regulating their own core temperature, and they dump most of their excess body heat out through their giant, heavy heads.

So if Dave turns the house into an oven, and Leo is wearing a fleece onesie, he can't cool himself down.

This is also why you're never, ever supposed to leave a winter hat on a baby indoors. Even if you're just walking around the mall, or you pop into a coffee shop, or you get into a warm car. I used to leave Maya's beanie on in the grocery store because it matched her outfit and she looked so cute, until an older woman gently tapped me on the shoulder and told me my baby looked flushed. I touched the back of Maya's neck, and she was dripping wet with sweat. TAKE THE HAT OFF. Just rip it off the second you cross a threshold into a heated building.

Please stop putting a thick quilt over your stroller

I saved my biggest mom-guilt confession for last.

When Maya was a newborn, I used to take her for walks in the UPPAbaby bassinet. If it was windy, I'd take this gorgeous, thick, knitted blanket my aunt made and drape it completely over the opening of the stroller to "block the wind." I thought I was creating this perfect, warm little cave for her.

I did this for months. Then I stumbled across a doctor's post on Instagram that literally made me feel sick to my stomach. Apparently, throwing a heavy blanket over a stroller creates a greenhouse effect. It blocks the oxygen circulation entirely, and the temperature inside that little stroller cave skyrockets, even if it's freezing outside. They basically suffocate in their own recycled, heated air. I cried in the bathroom for an hour when I learned that.

If you need to block the wind, you just use a specific, breathable stroller rain cover that has ventilation holes, or you invest in one of those sleeping-bag style footmuffs that zip around the baby's lower body but leave their face completely open to the air.

Oh, and skip the scarves. They're basically just adorable strangulation hazards. Stick to a balaclava.

Winter with a baby is basically just a giant game of layer-math and anxiety. But once you ditch the giant puffy snowsuits and stop trying to swaddle them in sweat-trapping cotton, it seriously gets a lot easier to leave the house. If you're trying to overhaul your kid's cold-weather drawer before the first snow hits, check out Kianao's organic winter essentials—just, you know, maybe skip the buttons if your baby is a wrestler.

All your messy winter clothing questions, answered

Do babies really need to wear a hat indoors?
Oh my god, no. Please take the hat off. My doctor was super aggressive about this. Babies release heat through their heads, so if you leave a beanie on them in a heated house or a warm car, they'll overheat incredibly fast. Overheating is a huge SIDS risk. Cute hat outside, naked head inside.

How do I genuinely know if my baby is cold?
Don't touch their hands or their feet! I used to panic because Leo's hands felt like little ice cubes, but babies just have absolutely garbage circulation. Their blood goes to their important organs first. To check if they're genuinely warm, stick two fingers down the back of their neck or feel their chest. If it's warm and dry, they're perfect. If it's sweaty, take a layer off. If it's cool, add a layer.

What's the plus-one rule?
It's the only math I can really do. Basically, dress the baby in whatever you're wearing to be comfortable, and then add one thin layer. So if you're wearing a long-sleeve shirt and a winter coat, the baby needs a long-sleeve onesie, a sweater, and their coat (or blanket if they're in the car seat).

Can I put a blanket over the baby in the car seat?
Yes, but ONLY over the straps. You strap them into their harness securely first, doing the pinch test to make sure it's tight against their chest, and then you can lay a blanket over their lap. Never put a blanket or a thick coat underneath the harness straps, or they'll fly right out in a crash.

Are fleece pajamas safe for sleep?
It totally depends on your house. If your husband jacks the heat up to 72 degrees at night like mine does, fleece is going to make them roast. If you keep the room chilly (like 65-68 degrees), a breathable organic cotton sleep sack over regular pajamas is usually way better at regulating their temperature without trapping the sweat.