Why I Googled "Baby Boi Carti" And Panicked About My Kids' Ears

It was Tuesday, 4:12 PM, and I was standing in the kitchen wearing my "bad day" sweatpants—the ones with the mystery yogurt stain on the left knee that I absolutely refuse to wash out because it feels like a monument to my survival—holding Maya's iPad like it was a live grenade. She's seven, so her search history is usually just, like, 'how to draw a realistic cat' or 'Roblox free stuff please.' But there it was, right between a Minecraft tutorial and a video about making slime: baby boi carti.

I stared at the screen for a full minute. My brain, fully saturated with stale cold brew and the sheer exhaustion of keeping two small humans alive until dinnertime, tried desperately to make sense of it. Was this a new baby clothing brand? Some weird aesthetic on TikTok where teenagers dress like infants? Is it related to those creepy unboxing videos Leo used to watch before I completely banned YouTube Kids? I texted my husband, Dave. Do you know what a baby boi is? He replied three minutes later: A small male infant? Also can we do tacos tonight. Helpful, Dave. Very helpful.

So I did what any slightly neurotic millennial mother does: I googled it. And oh god, the relief mixed with immediate, big terror.

The internet is a terrifying place for mothers

Okay, so it's absolutely not a cute sustainable onesie company. It’s Playboi Carti. The rapper. Specifically, rumors about an upcoming baby boi carti album and a recently leaked song where he’s calling himself a baby boi, which, honestly, whatever, musicians can call themselves whatever they want. I clicked on a YouTube clip out of sheer curiosity because, in my head, I thought maybe it was one of those lullaby cover albums? Like the Rockabye Baby series where they turn Snoop Dogg into xylophone music?

I swear to you, my soul temporarily left my body.

The bass was so loud and heavily distorted that my phone speaker physically vibrated off the kitchen island and almost fell into the sink. It’s part of this rap subgenre called "Rage," which is exactly what it sounds like. It's aggressive, there's screaming, the electronics sound like a dial-up modem having a panic attack, the lyrics are absolutely not something I want my first grader repeating at the dinner table, and it's just so, so incredibly loud.

Anyway, the point is, Maya had heard the phrase on the bus from a fifth grader, thought it was a literal song about a cute baby, and decided to search for it. We had a five-minute talk about what we search for on the internet, I deleted the history, and we moved on.

What my doctor said about loud noises

But hearing that deafening wall of bass coming out of my phone instantly triggered this deeply buried memory of a conversation I had with our doctor, Dr. Miller, back when Leo was, like, eight months old. We were planning to take him to this outdoor food truck festival thing in the city—Dave was desperate for these specific birria tacos—and she looked me dead in the eye during his checkup and asked if I had infant ear protection.

I remember scoffing a little, thinking, it's just a food truck festival, not a Metallica concert, relax.

Dr. Miller then proceeded to gently terrify me. She said something about how a baby's ear canal is tiny, so sounds are physically much louder to them than they're to us? Like, the sound pressure is amplified because of the small space in their little heads, or whatever the physics are. I don't totally get the mechanics, to be honest. I barely passed high school physics, I was busy drawing band logos on my converse. But she said even moderate crowd noise, a loud restaurant, or someone blasting heavy bass music nearby can actually physically hurt a baby's ears, and they can't tell you it hurts until they just start screaming uncontrollably.

She mentioned the World Health Organization has this 85-decibel limit, which I guess is the threshold where hearing damage starts happening. Apparently, a lot of the music we listen to—and definitely a Rage rap concert, if that's your thing—easily blows past 100 decibels and can permanently ruin a kid's hearing in like, five minutes. Five minutes!

Since that day, I’ve been hyper-aware of everything going near my kids' heads. And their mouths, honestly, because Leo is four and still occasionally tries to chew on his shirt collar when he's anxious, which is a whole other sensory thing.

If you're in the thick of the chewing phase right now and want to make sure they aren't gnawing on toxic plastic, you should check out Kianao's organic teething toys collection. It's a lifesaver.

Stuff to put in their mouths instead of their ears

Speaking of sensory inputs, when Leo was still using a pacifier, I was an absolute wreck about keeping it clean and close by, especially when we *were* out at loud places where he desperately needed it to self-soothe. Babies are basically just tiny sensory sponges, and when the noise gets to be too much, they need to suck or chew on something. The absolute best thing I bought back then was the Kianao Pacifier Clips Wood & Silicone Beads.

I specifically remember having the Mint colored one. We were at this incredibly noisy, echoing coffee shop downtown—the kind with the exposed brick that looks cool but makes voices bounce around violently, and an espresso machine that sounds like a literal jet engine taking off. I was wearing a terribly uncomfortable denim jacket. Leo was starting to panic because of the noise. He spit his pacifier out in protest, and it absolutely would have landed on the disgusting, sticky floor right next to the barista's mop bucket, but the Kianao clip saved it.

I used that thing every single day. The little wooden cookie charm was adorable, and the metal clip actually stayed clamped to his shirt without ruining the fabric, unlike the cheap plastic ones I bought on a late-night Amazon binge that broke in three days. Highly suggest.

We also tried the Llama Teether Silicone Soothing Gum Soother. It’s super cute, and the food-grade silicone is totally safe and BPA-free, but honestly? Leo mostly just liked throwing it at the dog. The little heart cutout was perfect for his tiny fingers to grasp, but as an actual teether, it was just okay for us. Every baby is different, I guess. Maya probably would have loved it when she was an infant because she liked smooth textures, but Leo was aggressively loyal to his pacifier.

We did have a bit more luck with the Baby Teething Toy Cactus Silicone. Mostly because it has all these little bumpy nubs on the cactus arms that I think really helped when his back molars were coming in, and the little pot base was super easy for his chubby hands to grip. It was pretty solid.

The moral of the story

So my whole Tuesday afternoon was derailed by a teenage rap trend that I didn't understand, which turned into a guilt-trip about noise levels, which resulted in me making Maya delete her search history while I frantically ordered Leo some noise-limiting volume-controlled headphones for his tablet.

Parenting is wild. You can't control every single sound they hear or every pop culture trend that trickles down to them on the school bus, but you can buy the earmuffs and give them safe things to chew on. Don't let the internet scare you into hiding in a silent bunker, but also maybe keep an eye on their iPad history and definitely invest in hearing protection if you're taking your baby anywhere louder than a quiet library.

Check out Kianao's full line of sustainable, quiet, and safe infant gear before your next loud outing. Your baby's ears (and your sanity) will thank you.

Messy questions I get asked all the time

Should I let my kids listen to loud music?
God, no. I mean, my doctor basically said anything over 85 decibels is a danger zone for tiny ears. If you've to yell over the music for your partner to hear you ask if they bought milk, it's way too loud for your baby. Turn it down. I know Dave loves blasting 90s grunge in the car, but we keep it strictly at conversation volume when the kids are in the backseat now.

How do I know if a place is too loud for my baby?
Honestly, if your ears are ringing even a little bit, your baby is probably in actual pain. Their ear canals are so small that the sound pressure is way more intense. If Leo starts covering his ears or getting inexplicably cranky at a restaurant, I don't even question it anymore. We just pack up our fries and leave. It's not worth the meltdown.

What's the deal with infant earmuffs?
They're non-negotiable. Don't use those foam earplugs you get on airplanes—they're a massive choking hazard, I literally caught Leo trying to eat one once. Get the actual over-the-ear padded earmuffs. They look kind of ridiculous, like your baby is directing air traffic, but they work. We take them to fireworks, festivals, everywhere.

Are silicone teethers really better than plastic?
In my chaotic experience, yes. The cheap plastic ones I bought with Maya got all scratched up and gross, and I was constantly paranoid about what chemicals were leaking into her mouth. The food-grade silicone ones from Kianao can be boiled or thrown in the dishwasher without melting into a toxic puddle. Plus, you can put them in the fridge when their gums are really inflamed. Game changer.

Do I need to worry about my 7-year-old searching for rap music?
Probably. I mean, they hear everything from older kids. You can't put them in a bubble. Just talk to them. I explained to Maya that some words aren't for us, and some videos are too loud and scary, and then we watched Bluey for an hour to cleanse our palates. It's all just a guessing game anyway.