A Letter to Myself About Those Aesthetic Silicone Teething Toys

Dear Sarah from exactly six months ago,

You're currently sitting cross-legged on the gross, unfinished plywood floor of the attic. You're wearing that oversized grey college sweatshirt with the mysterious mustard stain on the left cuff, sweating profusely because it's somehow ninety degrees up here, and you're holding a giant gallon-sized Ziploc bag full of Leo's old baby stuff. You've got your third cup of lukewarm, incredibly bitter hazelnut Keurig coffee sitting precariously on a stack of Maya's discarded Barbie dreamhouse parts. You're feeling very proud of yourself, very Marie Kondo, because you're about to march across the street and hand this bag of "perfectly good" hand-me-downs to your pregnant neighbor, Emily.

Put the coffee down. And for the love of god, open that bag and take out all those loose aesthetic beaded pacifier clips and necklaces.

Just take them out and throw them in the actual garbage.

I know, I know. They're so pretty. They're those beautiful, muted, earthy tones that look absolutely incredible on an Instagram grid. But I need you to understand that those little strings of silicone spheres you bought at that indie craft market are literal hazards, and you're going to feel like a complete idiot when you finally talk to the pediatrician about them.

That aesthetic neutral tone trap we all fell for

Look, I get it. When Maya was a baby seven years ago, everything was neon plastic and played aggressive electronic music that haunted my nightmares. So when Leo came along four years ago and suddenly everything was beige and sage green and minimalist, I lost my damn mind. I bought into the aesthetic so hard. I bought these long, gorgeous necklaces made of round, squishy beads on a piece of string. The idea was that I'd wear it, or he would wear it, or we would clip it to his linen romper, and he could just gnaw on the little silicone pieces while I drank my coffee in peace.

My husband Dave took one look at them when they arrived in the mail and was like, "Sarah, that looks like a choking hazard waiting to happen." And of course, because I'm stubborn and had spent forty dollars on Etsy, I got incredibly defensive. I was like, Dave, it's organic! It's aesthetic! It matches his outfit!

Then one afternoon, we were sitting on the rug in the living room, and Leo was aggressively chewing on this string of beads—like, full-on feral raccoon energy, just going to town on it. And I heard this tiny little snap. The craft cord broke. Suddenly there were fifteen tiny, squishy beads bouncing across the hardwood floor and rolling under the sofa, and Leo had one right in his mouth. Oh god, my stomach still drops just thinking about it. I had to do the finger-sweep thing and fish it out of his cheek while he screamed at me. It was terrifying.

What my pediatrician actually yelled at me about

So the next week at Leo's checkup, I casually mentioned the bead incident to Dr. Lin, fully expecting her to just nod and validate my trauma. Instead, she took off her glasses, rubbed her temples, and gave me this look of pure, unadulterated exhaustion.

She basically explained that the FDA and the AAP have been practically screaming from the rooftops about these things. As far as I understood her lecture—and honestly I was still recovering from wrangling a toddler in a paper gown—babies have this insane, disproportionate jaw strength. Like, they can bite down with crazy force. So when you give them a DIY teething necklace made with regular craft string, they'll eventually saw through it with those sharp little emerging teeth. The string breaks, the tiny pieces of silicone become the perfect size to block an airway, and it's just... it's a nightmare. Not to mention the strangulation risk of having a cord around a baby's neck. I literally went home and threw away every single necklace we owned.

Oh, and while we're at it, throw away that homeopathic numbing gel sitting in the back of the medicine cabinet too, because Dr. Lin said it's basically useless and possibly actually dangerous, so whatever, into the garbage it goes.

Wait, so is the rubbery stuff itself evil?

No.

This is where I got super confused for a minute. I thought the silicone material itself was the problem. But it's not. The material is actually amazing, it's just the loose bead format that's a death trap.

From what I've gathered during my late-night panic-googling sessions, 100% food-grade silicone is like this magical, indestructible stuff that doesn't harbor bacteria and doesn't leach weird chemicals like BPA or lead into your kid's bloodstream. It's soft enough that it won't damage their emerging teeth, but firm enough to really give them that deep-pressure relief on their gums. You just need it to be molded into one giant, solid piece so they can't break pieces off. Anyway, the point is, stop buying things on string and start buying big solid chunks of silicone.

The stuff that really works and won't give you a panic attack

If you really want to save Emily from the teething nightmares we went through, get her something safe. You remember how Leo basically lived with that Panda Teether in his mouth for three solid months? That thing was a lifesaver.

It's molded out of one single piece of silicone, so there's literally zero chance of anything snapping off, no matter how aggressively they chew on it. It has this cute little bamboo detail that's fully textured, which Leo loved dragging across his front gums when those first bottom teeth were trying to cut through. I honestly remember dropping it in the dirt at the playground once, and because it's just one solid piece of silicone, I just rinsed it off with my water bottle, wiped it on my jeans, and handed it back to him. I probably shouldn't admit that out loud, but honestly, survival mode is real. It's totally safe, completely BPA-free, and it genuinely saved our sanity during the molar stage.

We also had one of those Handmade Wood & Silicone Teether Rings, which was great for the sensory aspect. It's basically a smooth wooden ring that has silicone shapes securely attached to it, so they get to feel the hard wood and the squishy silicone at the same time. Leo liked banging it against the coffee table mostly, but hey, it kept him busy.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "But Sarah, what about pacifier clips? If I don't clip the pacifier to his shirt, it falls on the floor of Target and then nobody is happy."

Look. If you absolutely MUST use a clip, you've to buy one that's rigorously safety-tested where every single piece is individually knotted on a specialized cord, not some random craft fair find. We seriously had the Kianao Pacifier Clips with Wood & Silicone Beads and they were... okay. I mean, they're beautifully made and incredibly safe because they knot between every single bead to prevent the choking hazard thing I was ranting about earlier. But honestly? Leo completely ignored the aesthetic silicone beads and just preferred to chew on the metal clip part at the end. Because babies are weird and will always choose to chew on the one thing they aren't supposed to chew on. So yeah, they work great for holding the pacifier, but don't expect it to be a magic teething cure.

(If you're currently staring at a teething baby and want to just buy something safe so you can go back to sleep, you can check out Kianao's teething collection here. It's all organic and genuinely tested, so you don't have to spiral like I did.)

The freezer is a liar

Okay, I also need to tell you to stop freezing things.

I don't know who started this rumor that we should put teething toys in the freezer—probably our mothers, who also put whiskey on our gums, so consider the source—but it's genuinely a terrible idea. I used to keep a whole Tupperware container of teethers in the deep freeze next to the frozen waffles.

Dr. Lin explained this to me, and it made so much sense that I felt incredibly dumb. When you freeze silicone (or anything really), it becomes rock hard. A baby's gums are already inflamed, swollen, and super sensitive because literal bone is trying to slice through the tissue. When you hand them a rock-hard frozen block of silicone and they bite down with their crazy baby jaw strength, it can genuinely bruise their gums and cause tissue damage. Plus, the extreme cold can give them a little ice burn. I noticed Maya used to cry harder when I gave her a frozen toy, and now I know it's because I was basically handing her an ice cube to chew on with an open wound.

Just put the damn things in the refrigerator. Thirty minutes in the fridge makes the silicone nice and cool, which soothes the soreness without turning it into a weapon. It's so much easier anyway.

Dust magnets and dog hair

One last thing you need to remember about all these silicone products, regardless of whether it's the cute little panda or a textured ring: they're absolute magnets for hair.

We don't even own a dog. We haven't owned a dog in five years. But somehow, every time a silicone teether falls on the floor, it instantly acquires three dog hairs, a piece of lint, and a Cheerio crumb. It's just the nature of the material—it has this weird static cling that attracts every speck of dust in a five-mile radius.

You have to wash them constantly. Luckily, unlike the weird plush toys that take three days to dry, you can just throw the solid silicone ones in the top rack of the dishwasher. Or just stand at the sink at 2 AM, washing them with hot water and Dawn dish soap while you question all your life choices. Honestly, it's incredibly satisfying to know that when you wash a solid piece of silicone, it's genuinely clean. There are no tiny crevices for mold to grow in, unlike those horrible rubber squeeze toys that we had to cut open and throw away because they looked like a science experiment inside.

So, Sarah from six months ago. Take a breath. Drink your terrible coffee. Throw the aesthetic string beads in the trash. Buy Emily the solid panda teether instead. Trust me, her sanity (and her pediatrician) will thank you.

Ready to ditch the dangerous DIY beads and get something that won't keep you up at night with anxiety? Shop Kianao's collection of safe, one-piece silicone and wooden teethers here.

Things you're probably googling at 3 AM (FAQs)

Are silicone teethers seriously safe for my baby?
Yes, as long as you're buying the right kind. The material itself—100% food-grade silicone—is fantastic because it's non-toxic, doesn't harbor mold, and is super gentle on their gums. The danger comes when the silicone is shaped into small beads on a string. If you buy a solid, one-piece teether that can't break apart, it's completely safe and highly recommended by pediatricians who are tired of yelling at us about necklaces.

How the hell do I clean these things without losing my mind?
They attract lint like crazy, I know. But cleaning them is honestly the easiest part. For the 100% silicone ones, you just wash them in the sink with warm water and whatever mild dish soap you use for their bottles. Most of them can also go straight into the top rack of the dishwasher. If it has wooden parts attached, don't soak it or put it in the dishwasher—just wipe the wood with a damp cloth so it doesn't warp or splinter.

Can I put silicone teethers in the freezer?
Please don't. I did this for way too long before I learned that freezing them makes them way too hard. When your baby bites down on a rock-solid frozen toy, they can honestly bruise their already sensitive gums or cause minor frostbite on their lips. Just toss it in the regular refrigerator for 15-30 minutes. The chill is enough to soothe the soreness without doing any damage.

What about those teething necklaces the mom wears?
Adult-worn nursing necklaces are a grey area. If YOU wear it strictly as a distraction tool while you're holding or nursing the baby, and it has a breakaway safety clasp, it's generally okay. But you can never, ever take it off and let the baby hold it or play with it alone. Honestly, I found them to be more trouble than they were worth, and my kids just ended up pulling my hair anyway.

When do I need to throw a teether away?
Inspect them all the time. Like, every time you wash it, give it a good tug. If you see any cracks, deep teeth marks, or tears starting to form in the silicone, throw it in the trash immediately. It's not worth the risk of a piece breaking off. Also, if they've outgrown the teething phase and it's just sitting at the bottom of the toy bin gathering dust, do yourself a favor and toss it before you trip over it.