Dear Past Me: Surviving The Literal Baby Bat And Bath Time Chaos

Dear Sarah from six months ago,

It's exactly 7:14 PM on a Tuesday and you're currently kneeling on the damp bathroom tiles in an oversized, bleach-stained Nirvana t-shirt that you haven't washed in a week. You're dripping with lukewarm water because you're trying to give your sister's 8-month-old baby, Toby, a bath while she's out of town, which seemed like a totally manageable favor when she asked you three months ago. Your third Nespresso of the day is sitting on the edge of the sink, completely cold, obviously.

And then, it happens.

A shadow detaches itself from the ceiling molding above the shower curtain. At first, your exhausted brain thinks it's a very large, aggressive moth, but then it starts doing these jagged, terrifying dive-bombs around the exhaust fan. Leo, who's 7 and thinks he's immortal, starts screaming that Batman is here. Maya, my 4-year-old shadow who had stripped completely naked for absolutely no reason just to watch her cousin bathe, starts crying hysterically and trying to climb into the laundry hamper. And Mark, my dear, sweet husband, bursts into the bathroom wielding the metal colander we use for spaghetti, like a pasta strainer is going to do a damn thing against a winged creature of the night.

Anyway, the point is, you're trapped in a tiny tiled room with a literal baby bat swooping over your head while you're physically holding a slippery infant in a plastic bucket of water, and this is the exact moment your entire parenting philosophy is going to crack wide open.

The winged rat that ruined my Tuesday

I don't even know how we eventually got it out of the house. I think Mark just opened the tiny bathroom window and screamed at it while I threw a towel over my head and clutched Toby like a football. But the aftermath was worse than the actual flying rodent, because obviously, the first thing you do when your heart rate drops below 150 is pull out your phone and start googling "bat in house with baby."

Which, pro tip, never do that.

I called Dr. Miller's after-hours line at 8:30 PM, practically hyperventilating. I expected her to just laugh and tell me to give the kids some Tylenol and go to sleep, but she got very quiet and mumbled something about bats carrying rabies and how their teeth are so microscopic you wouldn't even know if you or the kids got bitten, which is exactly the kind of reassuring medical advice an already panicking mother needs to hear. She said if we couldn't confidently say the bat hadn't touched anyone while we were all screaming in the dark, we might need shots. Oh god, the shots.

We didn't end up needing them because Mark somehow remembered the bat never actually came below the shower curtain rod, but the sheer terror of that phone call rewired my brain entirely. It made me look around that bathroom and realize that while I was freaking out about a one-in-a-million rabies exposure, I was literally sitting my nephew in a soup of everyday chemicals.

Let's talk about the plastic situation for a second

Because after the bat incident, I couldn't sleep, so I started aggressively researching what I was actually putting Toby in. You know that standard, cheap plastic baby bath tub that everyone gets at their shower and uses without thinking twice about it? The one that smells vaguely like a new shower curtain?

Yeah, that smell is off-gassing, and I fell down a massive midnight rabbit hole about Polyvinyl chloride—PVC—and phthalates. Apparently, a lot of these older or cheaper tubs are made with endocrine-disrupting chemicals that leach into the water, especially when you fill them with warm water. Babies have this incredibly permeable, paper-thin skin, and I was just letting him soak in a plastic chemical bath three nights a week because the tub had a cute little whale painted on the side.

I threw the whole thing straight into the garage recycling bin at 2 AM. I was so mad at myself.

I spent the next three days hunting for a truly non toxic baby bathtub made from food-grade silicone or high-density polyethylene because apparently those are the safer, non-leaching plastics, but it's incredibly exhausting trying to find baby bath products that aren't just greenwashed garbage. You have to read every single label. If it just says "BPA-free" but doesn't tell you what the plastic actually IS, they're probably just replacing the BPA with BPS, which is basically the same toxic crap but with a different letter.

If you're wondering about the water temperature, just stick your elbow in it until it feels like warm soup, it really isn't rocket science.

The stuff that really worked during the chaos

The night of the bat, when I practically ripped Toby out of the water, I grabbed the closest thing to me to wrap him in, which happened to be the Bamboo Baby Blanket with the little watercolor leaves on it. I know it's supposed to be a sleep or stroller blanket, but let me tell you, organic bamboo is LITERALLY more absorbent than any of the so-called "baby towels" I own.

Those scratchy terrycloth things you get in multipacks just push the water around on their skin, but this bamboo blanket soaked him dry in about two seconds while he was screaming. It's incredibly soft, like ridiculously velvety, and it didn't irritate his eczema spots at all. I seriously ended up buying another one just to keep in the bathroom because it's massive enough to wrap a flailing infant in completely.

Before the bat interrupted us, he was chewing on some of the Gentle Baby Building Block Sets we threw in the water to keep him distracted. They're made of soft rubber and they're totally BPA and formaldehyde-free, which gave me peace of mind while he was gnawing on the number 4 block. Honestly, they're just okay as bath toys. They do float, and the pastel colors are cute and not obnoxious, but they've these tiny squeaker holes in them that suck in water, and trying to squeeze all the moisture out of twelve individual blocks so they don't grow mold is kind of a pain in my ass. Maya likes stacking them though, so they survive.

If you want to look at some of the things that genuinely make the evening routine less horrible, check out the organic baby blankets and bath gear here because finding the best baby bath products is less about buying out the whole baby aisle and more about just finding three things that don't make you want to pull your hair out.

Post-bath hostage negotiations

Once the bathroom was evacuated and Toby was dry and dressed in a fresh onesie, I still had to feed him. And my own kids, who were now completely unhinged from the adrenaline of the bat encounter. Leo was running around the kitchen island with a towel tied around his neck like a cape, and Maya was demanding dry cereal from a very specific pink bowl that was currently dirty in the dishwasher.

Toby was sitting in the high chair, rubbing his eyes and whining in that specific pitch that means a meltdown is imminent. We're deep in the weaning phase where he wants to feed himself but has the motor coordination of a drunk sailor. I slapped the Walrus Silicone Plate down on his tray, and it stuck like absolute concrete. I'm not kidding, that suction base is aggressive. I put some mashed sweet potatoes and tiny pieces of avocado in the divided sections—because god forbid the foods touch—and he couldn't rip it off the tray, no matter how hard he pulled.

I love this plate so much. It's 100% food-grade silicone, so I don't have to worry about the whole toxic plastic leaching thing when I throw it in the microwave to warm up leftovers. Plus, the little raised edges of the walrus shape genuinely help him scoop the food into his hand instead of just pushing it over the side onto my freshly swept floor.

The reality of the routine

Here's what I wish someone had told me before I had kids, or even before I agreed to watch my sister's baby: you don't genuinely need to bathe a baby every day. Dr. Miller told me during one of Maya's early checkups that newborns and infants really only need a bath like three times a week. Doing it every night just strips all the natural oils out of their skin and makes them prone to rashes. I used to think a nightly bath was the only way to signal to a baby that it was time to sleep, but honestly, halfway through most baths they just get cold and pissed off anyway.

When you do bathe them, the absolute most critical thing I've learned—bat invasions notwithstanding—is that you're going to want to make sure the towel and the diaper and the pajamas are literally within arm's reach before you even think about turning on the faucet because the second that slippery little seal is in the water you're completely trapped. You can't just step away to grab a washcloth. My doctor calls it "touch supervision," which sounds very clinical, but basically just means you've to keep one hand physically touching the baby at all times because they can silently slip under the water in literally one inch of water in the blink of an eye. Hence why I didn't drop Toby when the winged demon attacked.

So, Past Sarah, here's a list of things you'll survive that night:

1. The absolute terror of wildlife inside your home.
2. The realization that you've been using a toxic chemical tub.
3. Mark's useless pasta strainer defense strategy.
4. The sweet potato stains that will permanently ruin your Nirvana shirt.

And here's what you'll learn you honestly need to care about:

• Finding a baby bathtub that isn't made of PVC.
• Keeping the AAP poison control and wildlife rehab numbers saved in your phone.
• Stockpiling organic, highly absorbent things like that bamboo blanket.
• Buying silicone plates that really stick to the damn table.

You're doing fine. The kids are going to sleep eventually. Just throw out the cheap plastic tub tomorrow morning, and for the love of god, keep the bathroom window shut.

Ready to detox your own baby's routine without losing your mind? Explore our collection of safe, non-toxic essentials and silicone tableware that really makes parenting a little bit easier.

Questions I furiously googled at midnight

Do I really need a special bathtub for a baby?

Honestly? No, you don't NEED a dedicated tub if you've a clean sink and a lot of upper body strength, but trying to hold a wet, squirming infant who has suddenly decided they hate water is terrifying. A good, non-toxic tub with an ergonomic slant just gives you a safe place to put them down so you can really wash their hair without feeling like you're wrestling a greased pig. Just make sure whatever you buy isn't made of PVC plastic.

What exactly makes a baby product "non-toxic"?

Oh god, this is the worst because companies lie all the time. "Non-toxic" isn't a highly regulated term, so any brand can slap it on a box. For me, it means looking for specifics: 100% food-grade silicone, natural un-treated wood, organic cotton or bamboo, and plastics that are explicitly categorized as HDPE or PP (high-density polyethylene or polypropylene). If a company just says "BPA-free" but won't tell you the exact material, I usually assume it's garbage.

How warm should the bath water honestly be?

My doctor always says around 100 degrees Fahrenheit, which means absolutely nothing to me because I'm not a human thermometer. Basically, it should feel pleasantly warm on the inside of your wrist or your elbow, not hot. Babies lose body heat super fast, so I usually pour warm water over their shoulders constantly while they're sitting there, and I always have the towel fully opened and waiting on my lap before I pull them out.

What if my baby drinks the bath water?

They're 100% going to drink the bath water. Maya used to treat her bath like a giant soup bowl. Unless they're actively drinking gallons of soapy water or pooped in the tub (in which case, abort mission immediately), a little bit of swallowed water isn't going to kill them. This is exactly why finding safe baby bath products and non-toxic washes is so important though—because whatever you put in that water is eventually going into their mouth.

What do I really do if a bat gets in the house?

Okay, first of all, don't use a pasta strainer. Isolate the bat in one room if you can, shut the doors, put a towel under the crack, and get the kids and pets out. Call a local wildlife rehabilitator or animal control. And call your doctor, because bat bites are so tiny you can't always see them, and rabies is not something you want to mess around with, even if the chances are astronomically low. Just... keep your windows screened, okay?