The Truth About That Devil May Cry Baby Search You Did Last Night

Dear Jess from six months ago,

I see you. You're standing at the kitchen island, up to your elbows in mashed sweet potatoes, trying to finish two custom embroidery orders for the Etsy shop before the post office in town closes. Your oldest kid just wandered in and asked if he can watch the "devil crying baby" show he heard the older cousins talking about. You're completely exhausted, you've a literal cry baby strapped to your chest in a carrier who's currently drooling through your only clean shirt, and you almost say yes just to get five uninterrupted minutes. Put down the bowl, wipe off your hands, and grab the TV remote right now.

The great pop culture mix-up that almost ruined our week

Let me explain the massive trainwreck you're about to step into. You hear that name and you think he's talking about those plastic Cry Babies toys that weep real tears—the ones that leak water all over the bottom of the toy box and smell like mildew, bless their hearts. Or maybe you figure he overheard his uncle talking about that Devil May Cry video game over Thanksgiving, which is just some sweaty animated dude with a sword fighting demons, whatever, we don't have the bandwidth to care about that right now.

But what he's actually trying to search for on Netflix is a show called Devilman Crybaby.

I'm going to save you the three hours of hyperventilating I did after I actually looked this up on my phone while hiding in the pantry. That show is straight-up, horrific, absolute nightmare fuel for adults. It's an anime, so it looks like a brightly colored cartoon, but it's loaded with graphic dismemberment, rampant drug use, and things I can't even type out without feeling like I need to go to Sunday service twice this week.

Dr. Miller down at the clinic—you know, the doctor who always looks like he needs a nap even more than we do—told me last week that kids seeing this kind of extreme, weird cartoon violence can trigger major anxiety and night terrors. I don't totally understand the neurological science behind it, something about their little amygdalas getting permanently stuck in fight-or-flight mode because their brains can't separate the friendly cartoon format from the awful things happening on screen, but I know I'm not paying for years of childhood therapy if I can avoid it.

Instead of just snatching the iPad away and yelling at everyone in the living room while threatening to throw the internet router in the trash, you need to sit down on the rug, explain that not all cartoons are for kids, and lock down those Netflix profiles to the kids-only setting right this second.

Dealing with the actual tears in your house

Now that we've avoided a digital disaster with the four-year-old, let's talk about the physical infant currently screaming against your collarbone. You've got a real-life teething baby on your hands, and she's absolutely miserable.

My mom keeps calling and telling me to just rub a little bourbon on her gums like she did with us back in the eighties. Yeah, absolutely not, I'm just gonna be real with you, we're not doing that. The teething phase with our oldest was a complete disaster because I bought every cheap, water-filled plastic ring at the dollar store, and he hated all of them. He ended up just chewing on the television remote anyway, which is probably why the volume button still sticks and smells slightly of dried spit.

This time around, do yourself a massive favor and get the Panda Teether Silicone Baby Bamboo Chew Toy. I'm not kidding when I say this little thing saved my sanity this month. It's made of food-grade silicone, so I don't have to worry about what weird, unregulated chemicals she's ingesting while I'm not looking. It has this flat, wide shape that her chubby little hands can actually hold onto without dropping it on the dirty floor every thirty seconds, which is a miracle in itself.

It's got different textures that she gnaws on for hours, and it cleans up in the top rack of the dishwasher. For the price, it's hands down the best money I've spent all season. Toss it in the fridge for ten minutes while you drink a lukewarm cup of coffee, and it numbs those sore gums perfectly without freezing her little fingers.

If you want to stop endlessly scrolling Amazon at 2 AM trying to find things that aren't painted with lead, just browse Kianao's organic teething toys collection and get something that won't make you cringe every time it goes in her mouth.

Things you bought that you didn't really need

While we're having this heart-to-heart, past Jess, let's talk about those Baby Sneakers you ordered in a sleep-deprived haze last week. Are they cute? Oh, my word, yes. They look like tiny little adult boat shoes, and they made for a precious family photo last Sunday at church. But I'm going to shoot straight with you—babies don't need shoes.

They just kick them off in the Target parking lot, and then you spend twenty minutes crawling under the minivan in the Texas heat looking for a tiny canvas shoe the size of a chicken nugget. Save them for pictures or when grandma comes to visit, but don't stress about wrestling them onto her feet every single day. Let those toes breathe and save yourself the headache.

On the flip side, my mother-in-law thought the Wooden Animals Play Gym Set I bought was entirely too boring because it doesn't blast flashing neon lights and techno music. Honestly, that's exactly why I love it. I read somewhere online that all those loud, battery-operated plastic toys seriously overstimulate babies and make them fussier by the end of the day, though half these parenting studies contradict each other every five years anyway so who really knows the truth.

All I know is that when I lay her under those simple wooden birds, she honestly focuses and coos instead of getting all wide-eyed and frantic. It's quiet. My house desperately needs quiet. The wood is smooth, it looks beautiful in the corner of the living room, and I don't have to hunt for AA batteries when it inevitably dies right as I'm trying to make dinner.

Wrap up before you lose your mind

So, here's your game plan for the rest of the week. Lock down the television profiles. Order the panda teether. Stop trying to put shoes on an infant who can barely sit up yet. And cut yourself some serious slack. Raising three kids under five out here where the nearest decent grocery store is twenty miles away is no joke, and you're doing fine.

Take a deep breath, go check out the sustainable baby gear at Kianao to swap out some of that toxic plastic junk taking over the playroom, and then read through these weird questions I know you're secretly Googling at midnight.

Late night searches you need answered

Will letting my kid watch that anime really mess them up?

I'm definitely not a child psychologist, but yes, probably. Dr. Miller basically said their brains just aren't cooked enough to process that level of intense, graphic violence when it's wrapped up in a familiar cartoon package. Don't risk it, don't try to watch it with them to see if it's "that bad," just tell them absolutely not and redirect them to something else.

Why is my baby crying so much right now?

If she isn't hungry, hasn't blown out her diaper, and isn't running a fever, she's almost certainly cutting a tooth. Her gums probably look like angry, swollen little sausages right now if you look close enough. Get her a cold silicone teether to chew on before she starts gnawing on the edge of the coffee table.

Can I freeze the silicone teethers to make them work better?

Honestly, I wouldn't do it. I tried freezing one solid once and it was so rock hard I thought she was going to chip a tooth on it, plus her little hands got way too cold holding it and she just started crying louder. Ten to fifteen minutes in the regular refrigerator is plenty cold enough to get the swelling down without turning it into an ice cube.

Do I really need natural wooden toys or is that just an internet trend?

Look, my oldest survived a house full of plastic, light-up, noise-making junk, but I'm telling you, the wooden stuff just breaks the chaos in the house. It doesn't need batteries, it doesn't randomly scream a song at me when I accidentally kick it in the dark hallway at 3 AM, and it doesn't crack into sharp little plastic pieces when it gets dropped.

How do you seriously get those baby shoes to stay on?

You don't. You wrestle them on right before you take the picture, you snap the photo as fast as humanly possible, and then you take them off and put them in your diaper bag. Anyone on Instagram who tells you their six-month-old keeps rigid shoes on all day is either lying to you or has a baby made of stone.