Navigating Baby Steps Nudity and Family Privacy (And Pants)

It was 7:13 AM on a Tuesday, and I was standing in my entryway wearing a stained NYU sweatshirt from 2009, holding a mug of coffee that had already gone cold because I’d left it on the bathroom counter for twenty minutes. My husband, Marc, was frantically waving his hands like a traffic cop directing a multi-car pileup, and my four-year-old son, Leo, was sprinting laps around the living room. Completely, joyfully, aggressively naked.

The Amazon delivery guy was standing right there on the porch.

Through the glass sidelight of our front door, I made direct eye contact with the delivery man while my stark-naked child yelled something about being a cheetah and vaulted over the sofa. I didn't even try to hide it. I just signed for my bulk order of paper towels, gave the guy a deeply exhausted nod, and shut the door. Marc, who's perpetually worried about what our neighbors think, was practically hyperventilating. "We have to make him wear pants," he kept whispering, as if Leo couldn't hear him from where he was currently rubbing his bare butt on our expensive rug.

Anyway, the point is, I used to think I had this whole bodily autonomy thing figured out.

Before I had kids, I had these grand, sweeping visions of how my family would operate. I thought we’d be one of those cool, bohemian, vaguely European families where bodies are just bodies and nobody makes a big deal out of anything. I literally envisioned myself peacefully nursing a baby while my older kids played classical instruments in linen outfits. Oh god. The absolute delusion.

The reality is that kids transition from oblivious infants to deeply opinionated people, and navigating those little developmental leaps around personal privacy is messy as hell.

The text message that sent me into a panic

Okay, before we even get into the psychology of when kids should start wearing clothes in the living room, I've to tell you about the most unhinged thing that happened in my preschool moms' WhatsApp group last week. My friend Jessica texted us in a complete panic at like 11 PM on a Thursday.

She was trying to figure out how to slowly transition her three-year-old out of his naked phase, so she just casually googled terms about taking incremental baby steps and child nudity, trying to find some parenting forum advice. Instead, her search results were entirely flooded with warnings about a video game. Like, a literal PlayStation and PC game. It's an indie game called "Baby Steps" that looks like a goofy walking simulator where you control a guy in a onesie, but apparently, it's rated M for Mature and has a literal, actual toggle setting in the menu that uncensors graphic male anatomy.

Jessica sent us a screenshot of the ESRB rating, and we were all just staring at our phones in the dark. It has drug references, F-bombs, and full-frontal exposure. So, like, if your older teenager suddenly asks you to buy a quirky game about taking literal steps, maybe check the parental controls first.

As for the sudden potty training regression Leo had last month, I’m pretty sure he just forgot how toilets work because he was distracted by a piece of lint, so I'm not even going to stress about that.

What my pediatrician actually said about boundaries

After the Amazon guy incident, I brought the whole pantsless-cheetah issue up at Leo's annual checkup. We love Dr. Aris. He has this very calm, grandfatherly vibe that immediately lowers my blood pressure, even when Leo is trying to eat the crinkly paper off the exam table.

I basically trauma-dumped on him. I was like, "Are we ruining him? Should we be forcing him to cover up? At what age does it become weird?"

Dr. Aris kind of just laughed and told me that, from a developmental standpoint, non-sexualized family nudity is completely harmless. He explained it in this very reassuring way, basically saying that kids between three and six are just incredibly curious little scientists. They point, they stare, they ask why your body has hair in certain places while you're just trying to pee in peace. I guess exposing them to normal, imperfect adult bodies wires their brains to not hate their own bodies later on? That was my takeaway, anyway.

He told me not to make a big, shameful deal out of it. If Leo is running around the house naked, it's not a moral failing. It's just a phase. But he also said that we're totally within our rights to start taking baby steps toward establishing some basic boundaries, mostly just for our own sanity.

Clothes they might actually keep on

Part of the reason Leo is always stripping is that he has sensory opinions. If a tag is scratchy, or a waistband is too tight, the pants are coming off and being launched across the hallway. It's a daily battle. I’ve had to get really ruthless about what actually goes into his dresser drawers.

My absolute, holy-grail favorite thing right now are the Baby Shorts Organic Cotton Ribbed Retro Style Comfort from Kianao. I'm obsessed with these. I bought them in the Pale Turquoise color, and they've this vintage, 1970s athletic camp vibe with the white contrast trim that makes Leo look like a tiny, aggressive track star. More importantly, they're so ridiculously soft and stretchy that he doesn’t immediately try to escape from them. The elastic doesn't dig into his stomach when he sits down to play with his Magna-Tiles. We honestly live in these.

On the flip side, we also have the Baby Jumpsuit Organic Cotton | Soft Button-Front Baby Clothes. Okay, look. It's beautiful. The GOTS-certified cotton is like a cloud. Marc completely loves it and thinks it makes Leo look like a sophisticated little artist. But honestly? It's just okay for me. If you've an octopus-child who thrashes wildly during every single diaper change or bathroom break, trying to fasten a row of front buttons while under-caffeinated is a genuine test of maternal endurance. I prefer stuff I can just aggressively yank up his legs. It’s a gorgeous outfit for Sunday brunch at my mother-in-law's house, but it’s not my everyday survival gear.

Oh, and if you're currently in the thick of those early mobility days—where they're literally just learning to walk and dragging themselves up on the coffee table—you absolutely need the Baby Sneakers Non-Slip Soft Sole First Shoes. Real shoes are way too stiff for babies who are just figuring out gravity, but these have a soft sole that lets them seriously feel the floor. Plus, they look like tiny adult boat shoes, which is objectively hilarious on a ten-month-old.

If you're also just trying to keep your kids clothed in things they won't immediately rip off, you can browse Kianao's organic baby clothes here.

The modesty shift with Maya

The weirdest part about all of this is watching how it changes as they get older. My daughter, Maya, is seven now. And almost overnight, she just... changed.

When she was Leo's age, she would follow me into the shower and ask me deeply invasive questions about my anatomy while I was trying to shave my legs. Now? She will literally gasp and slam the door if I accidentally walk into the bathroom while she's brushing her teeth in her pajamas. It was this massive, sudden shift into modesty.

Dr. Aris had honestly warned me about this. He said that right around age six or seven, kids naturally start seeking out physical privacy. They start hiding when they change clothes. They get embarrassed if you see them without a shirt on.

I remember feeling kind of sad about it at first. Like, oh, my baby is gone, she has secrets now. But then I realized this is exactly what we want, right? We want them to understand that their body belongs to them, and that they've the power to say who gets to see it. When Maya started closing her bedroom door to get dressed, I had to stop myself from barging in with her clean laundry. I had to learn to stand in the hallway and knock. You basically just have to start knocking on their door like a weird formal butler and hope they eventually do the same to yours.

How we enforce the doorbell rule

Since we're currently bridging the gap between a deeply modest seven-year-old and a completely feral four-year-old, we had to come up with some ground rules that didn't make Leo feel like his body was "bad" or "gross."

Here's what's currently kind-of-sort-of working for us, depending on the day and the alignment of the stars:

• The Guest Protocol. I read about this on a parenting blog at 2 AM, and it's brilliant. Being naked is an "at-home" activity. But the second the doorbell rings, or someone comes over, clothes have to go on. Leo understands the concept of guests, so when the dog barks at the UPS guy, I just yell, "Guest rule!" and throw a pair of shorts at his head.
• Narrating the boundaries. Instead of saying "Put your pants on, you're embarrassing me," I try to frame it around shared space. Like, "Hey buddy, I'm drinking my coffee on this couch, and I really don't want your bare bottom on the cushions right now."
• Buying cool bathrobes. This was a game-changer. I bought them both extremely plush, oversized bathrobes. Now, getting out of the tub doesn't mean streaking down the hallway; it means putting on their "cozy coats." It slows down the chaos significantly.

It's all just a work in progress. Some days I'm the mindful, modern parent who gently guides her children toward bodily autonomy, and some days I'm just a tired woman bribing a preschooler with a fruit snack so he’ll put on his underwear before the neighbors call the HOA.

Ready to upgrade your kid's wardrobe before the next Amazon delivery? Check out Kianao's full collection of ridiculously soft, sensory-friendly organic basics.

Questions I frantically googled at midnight

Is it normal that my toddler hates wearing clothes?

Oh god, yes. Literally every mom I know has a kid who strips the second they get indoors. From what my doctor said, they just like the physical freedom. Clothes can be restrictive and tags are annoying. As long as it's not a massive sensory processing issue, it's just a phase where they're realizing they've the power to take things off.

How do I explain body parts to a curious preschooler?

Honestly, just use the real medical words. Penis, vulva, whatever. I used to use silly made-up words because I was embarrassed, but Dr. Aris told me that using the correct anatomical terms is really a huge part of child safety. It normalises their bodies and takes the weird mystery out of it. Plus, it's very funny to hear a four-year-old yell "vulva" at the grocery store. You just have to lean into the awkwardness.

When will my kid stop walking in on me in the bathroom?

If you figure this out, please email me immediately. Maya stopped around age six, but Leo still thinks my bathroom time is an open invitation for a town hall meeting about his snacks. You just have to start locking the door and ignoring the little fingers wiggling under the door frame.

What if family members are uncomfortable with my kid running around in the buff?

This happens every time my dad visits. He gets so weirded out. We just enforce the "Guest Rule" even for grandparents. It's a good middle ground. We don't shame Leo for wanting to be naked, but we explain that when other people are in our house, we wear our clothes to make sure everyone feels comfortable in the shared space. Then I usually hand my dad a beer and tell him to look at the ceiling.

Are those organic cotton shorts really worth it?

Yes. Look, kids are gross and they ruin things, but investing in a few really good, soft, stretchy pieces like the Kianao ribbed shorts really stopped a lot of our clothing tantrums. If the clothes honestly feel good on their skin, they're like 80% less likely to rip them off the second you turn your back to load the dishwasher.