The Panic of Buying Sunblock Newborn Twins Can Actually Tolerate

Standing in aisle four of our local Boots, sweat pooling in the small of my back, I found myself staring at thirty-seven different brightly coloured bottles while two four-week-old girls actively lost their minds in a double buggy. The great British heatwave was scheduled for Tuesday (which meant exactly three days of 26-degree weather before a month of inevitable drizzle), and I was simply trying to figure out which factor 50 wouldn't turn my daughters into a rashy, screaming mess.

I picked up a tube that proudly proclaimed it was waterproof for eighty minutes. The twins wailed in stereo. An elderly woman tutted at me over a display of throat lozenges. I frantically Googled the phrase sunblock newborn on my phone, praying for a simple answer, but was immediately hit with a barrage of terrifying parenting forum posts about chemical absorption and body temperature regulation. I ended up buying nothing, pushing the buggy out of the shop at top speed, and deciding we just wouldn't go outside until October.

Before having kids, I honestly thought sun protection just meant buying the most expensive, child-branded goop you could find and slathering it on until they looked like they were ready to swim the English Channel. But when you're suddenly responsible for two fragile, wrinkly beings who seem highly allergic to existing, the rules change entirely.

My previous ignorance about baby skin

I used to think a baby was just a miniature adult, and therefore their skin was just adult skin, only smaller and softer. Our GP, a fantastically dry woman who always looked faintly amused by my constant state of panic, sat me down at our six-week check and blew my mind entirely.

She told me that infant skin is basically paper-thin and completely useless at metabolising chemical ingredients. Apparently, whatever you rub onto a baby under six months old goes straight into their tiny systems, because their skin barrier hasn't properly finished baking yet. When she said this, I had a sudden, horrifying flashback to the amount of scented baby lotion I had confidently rubbed onto their feet the week before.

This is precisely why you aren't supposed to cover young babies in standard chemical sun creams. They physically can't process the chemical UV filters like oxybenzone that make normal sunscreens work. My understanding of the science is a bit hazy, but it basically boils down to their tiny livers and kidneys having enough to deal with just processing milk, let alone trying to break down complex synthetic chemicals from a spray bottle.

The great temperature regulation problem

Once you learn that chemical creams are out, you logically pivot to mineral creams. Zinc oxide and titanium dioxide are the ones that sit on top of the skin like a physical mirror, reflecting the sun's rays away. You think you've cracked it. You buy a tube of thick white paste that costs the same as a small second-hand car.

Then you hit the second biological hurdle: babies are absolutely rubbish at sweating.

Because they can't keep stable their own body temperature very well, covering a newborn in a thick, occlusive layer of zinc oxide is a brilliant way to make them overheat. The thick cream traps their body heat inside, and because they can't sweat properly to cool down, they just quietly roast like tiny, angry potatoes in a jacket. I learned this the hard way when I put a bit too much mineral cream on my daughter's neck before a quick walk, only to find her bright red, furious, and radiating heat like a radiator on full blast by the time we reached the end of the street.

Advice from our incredibly dry doctor

If you can't use chemical creams, and you can't cover them in mineral creams because they'll overheat, what on earth are you supposed to do? I asked our GP this exact question while holding a twin under each arm like poorly wrapped rugby balls.

From what she told me, the official medical bodies reckon the absolute best defence is keeping them entirely out of direct sunlight, but they also concede that we live in the real world where you occasionally have to cross a car park at noon. She said that if you're absolutely stuck without shade, you can use a tiny smear of baby-safe mineral cream on the small exposed areas, like the backs of their hands or their cheeks. A bit of zinc on their nose is obviously better than a blistering sunburn, though she left the exact measurement of a 'tiny smear' completely open to my terrified interpretation.

Clothes that actually work in the heat

Instead of basting them in thick pastes, we leaned heavily into physical barriers. I quickly realised that dressing them in the right fabrics was far less stressful than trying to wash water-resistant zinc out of a screaming infant's neck folds at seven in the evening.

We basically put them in long sleeves and trousers all summer, which sounds mad until you discover proper, breathable fabrics. I picked up a few of the Long Sleeve Organic Cotton Bodysuits from Kianao, and they ended up being our absolute lifesavers.

They're woven from proper organic cotton, so the fabric is thin enough that the girls didn't sweat to death, but the weave is tight enough that I felt confident carrying them from the front door to the car without a parasol. I genuinely loved these suits. The fabric actually breathes, unlike the cheap synthetic ones I bought from a supermarket that made them smell like damp towels after an hour. The snaps at the bottom are brilliant too, though I'll admit I occasionally misaligned them in my sleep-deprived state and ended up with a baby whose clothes pulled diagonally across their chest.

If you find yourself frantically trying to outfit a summer baby without melting them, you might want to browse Kianao's organic baby essentials collection to find bits that won't turn your child into a sweaty mess.

Life under indoor house arrest

Because the midday sun is incredibly aggressive, we essentially put ourselves under voluntary house arrest between the hours of 10am and 4pm. We would do our pram walks at 8am, terrifying the local dog walkers with our twin-sized vehicle, and then scurry back indoors before the UV index crept up.

Spending six hours a day trapped in a shaded living room with two infants requires distractions. In a moment of weakness, I bought the Panda Play Gym Set to give them something to look at while the electric fan oscillated in the corner.

It's alright, honestly. The monochrome colours gave their developing eyes something to focus on, and the crocheted panda is quite sweet. It definitely bought me five minutes to drink a cup of lukewarm tea while they lay on their backs and stared at it. However, I must confess that the wooden teepee piece hanging from the side seems to be magnetically attracted to my kneecaps. I've tripped over the wooden frame of this gym more times than I care to admit while attempting to bring them bottles in a darkened room.

When we did venture out to the local park at five in the evening, I brought along the Squirrel Organic Cotton Baby Blanket. I bought it specifically to lay on the grass under the massive oak tree by the duck pond. It's properly soft and provides a clean barrier between my babies and whatever the local foxes have left on the ground overnight. Plus, it washes brilliantly, which is lucky, because one of the twins managed to sick up her afternoon milk directly onto the printed squirrel's face within three minutes of us arriving at the park.

The pram blanket nightmare

Since we're on the topic of blankets, I feel compelled to mention the single most stress-inducing thing I see other parents do in the summer. It drives me completely mental when I walk past a buggy in the park and see a thick muslin or a knitted blanket pegged tightly over the bassinet opening to block the sun.

I know they're just trying to keep the UV rays off their sleeping baby, because I almost did the exact same thing when the twins were tiny. But draping a blanket over a pram basically turns the bassinet into a greenhouse. The air stops circulating immediately, and the temperature inside spikes to dangerous levels in a matter of minutes. We ended up buying a proper clip-on pram parasol instead. It looked completely ridiculous, like we were wheeling a tiny cocktail drink down the pavement, but it cast a shadow without suffocating them.

The evening bath time scrub down

On the rare occasions we did have to use a tiny bit of mineral cream on the backs of their hands or their cheeks, getting the bloody stuff off again was an absolute nightmare. Mineral sun protection is essentially like spreading cold butter onto un-toasted bread.

It doesn't rub in, it just sits there, making them look like very small, confused mimes. By the end of the day, that white paste has mixed with drool, milk spit-up, and general airborne dust to create a cement-like crust in the creases of their chins. Trying to wipe it off with a standard baby wipe just smears it around further.

I found that the only way to actually break down the mineral zinc without scrubbing their delicate skin raw was to use a warm, damp flannel with a tiny drop of baby bath oil. The oil breaks down the thick paste, and then you can gently wipe it away. Between avoiding the midday sun, dressing them in long breathable sleeves, and frantically scrubbing zinc out of their neck folds while they scream the house down, keeping a newborn safe in the summer is frankly an exhausting full-time job.

Ready to stop panicking about UV exposure and seriously enjoy a brief walk outside? Have a look at our breathable long-sleeved bodysuits right here before the next heatwave hits.

Messy questions about summer babies

Can I put standard sun cream on my three-week-old?

Honestly, no, and I wouldn't risk it. Their skin is so thin at that age that they absorb everything you rub onto it. My doctor was quite firm about keeping synthetic chemicals away from them until they're at least six months old. Stick to shade, floppy hats, and keeping them indoors when the sun is properly blazing.

What happens if we get caught in the sun without a hat?

If you're miles from home, there's no shade, and the sun is beating down, most medical advice says a tiny smear of baby-safe mineral cream on their face is better than letting them burn. A sunburn on a newborn is a serious medical issue that usually involves a trip to A&E, so if you're caught out, use a tiny bit of mineral zinc on exposed skin, then wash it off as soon as you get home.

Does sitting under a parasol mean they're completely safe?

I thought it did, until I learned that concrete, sand, and water bounce UV rays back up at you. You can be sitting under a massive umbrella and still get burnt from the reflection off the pavement. We found this out the hard way at a pub garden. Keep their legs and arms covered with thin, breathable cotton even if you're in the shade.

How do I know if they're overheating in their clothes?

Babies can't tell you they're hot, and they often don't sweat to cool down. I spent most of July obsessively slipping two fingers down the back of their necks. If the back of their neck feels hot to the touch or slightly clammy, they're too warm. Forget checking their hands and feet—those are always freezing anyway because their circulation is terrible.

Why are spray bottles so bad for kids?

Aside from the fact that it's impossible to tell how much you've honestly put on, spray bottles are a massive inhalation risk. If you spray it near a squirming infant, they're going to breathe in those particles directly into their tiny lungs. If you absolutely have to use a spray bottle on an older baby, spray it directly into your own hands first, far away from their face, and then rub it on.