The Truth About That Cute Baby Milo Keychain (And My Mom Guilt)

It was a random Tuesday in October, like, 2018 maybe? Maya was about seven months old, and we were sitting outside this aggressively hip coffee shop in Brooklyn—the kind where a basic iced oat milk latte costs seven dollars and the baristas look like they're actively judging your messy mom bun. I was wearing Dave's oversized college hoodie and leggings with a mystery stain on the knee that was probably mashed sweet potato but honestly could have been anything. Maya was absolutely screaming her face off in the stroller. Just full, unhinged pterodactyl screeches because her gums were bothering her and I was desperately trying to find literally anything in my bottomless pit of a bag to soothe her.

I pulled out my keys. Attached to them was my pride and joy at the time: a BAPE Baby Milo keychain. I handed the heavy, jingling mess to my crying infant, and she immediately shoved the little plastic monkey head into her mouth and went dead silent. I took a sip of my coffee and felt like the smartest, coolest mom on the planet. I mean, it literally starts with a baby m right? Baby Milo. The word baby is right there in the name. It implies it's for infants. I had paid an embarrassing amount of money for this tiny streetwear accessory because I wanted to feel like a relevant human being who understood fashion, not just a walking, exhausted milk dispenser.

I genuinely thought I was doing great until I realized, much later, that I was basically letting my child gnaw on a choking hazard attached to a dirty car key. Mom guilt is so incredibly real, you guys.

How a streetwear monkey fooled me

If you don't live with a sneakerhead husband like Dave, you might not even know what I'm talking about. A Bathing Ape, or BAPE, is this massive Japanese streetwear brand, and Baby Milo is their cute little monkey mascot. It's entirely a fashion brand for adults and teenagers who have too much disposable income and like to wait in line for limited-edition drops. It's NOT a baby brand. At all.

When Dave saw Maya chewing on the keychain later that week, he almost had a legitimate heart attack. Not because of the horrifying safety implications—which, oh god, we'll get to in a minute—but because it was a "collectible piece." Men are absolutely wild.

But his panic made me actually look up what the hell Maya was putting in her mouth. According to my frantic, exhausted 3 AM googling while trapped under a sleeping baby, the rubbery keychains are made from something called ATBC-PVC. From what I can barely understand with my zero chemistry background, this means it's a non-phthalate plastic. Which I guess is great, because phthalates are those terrifying endocrine-disrupting chemicals that make my eye twitch every time I read a mom blog. So it’s safer than standard cheap PVC, but—and this is a massive but—it's not food-grade silicone. It's industrial plastic meant to hang on a backpack. Just because it doesn't have the worst toxic crap in it doesn't mean it belongs in a human infant's mouth. Anyway, the point is, I felt like a total idiot.

That time my pediatrician gently shamed me

Dr. Gordon is an absolute saint of a man who has talked me off the ledge more times than I can count, but he definitely gave me the look at Maya's nine-month checkup. We were waiting in the exam room, Maya sitting on that loud, crinkly paper on the table, happily gnawing on the carabiner clip attached to the monkey.

He didn't yell, but my doctor very gently explained to me that the American Academy of Pediatrics basically views anything with small metal parts as a giant red flag for kids under three. The metal rings, the tiny linked chains, the spring-loaded carabiner clips—all of it's a massive choking and pinching hazard. He told me a horror story about a baby getting their lip caught in a keychain ring that honestly made my stomach drop into my shoes. He didn't quote textbook rules at me because he knows I'd just spiral into an anxiety hole, but he made it incredibly clear that keychains are fashion accessories, not medical-grade soothing devices.

I realized then that handing over a set of keys with a heavy metal fob just because the plastic part looks like a cute cartoon is basically playing Russian roulette with a baby's gums.

The great teething crisis of 2021

By the time Leo was born three years later, I actually knew what I was doing. Sort of. Mostly I just knew what *not* to do, which included keeping my keys safely hidden at the bottom of my bag. But Leo was a completely different beast when it came to teething. Maya fussed a bit, but Leo was demonic. He drooled through four bibs a day and would try to bite the dog, the sofa, and my shoulder.

I finally got smart and bought the Panda Teether Silicone Baby Bamboo Chew Toy Soothing Gum Relief from Kianao, and I'm not exaggerating when I say this tiny silicone bear saved what was left of my sanity. It has these little textured bumps on the bamboo part that Leo would just furiously grind his gums against for thirty minutes straight while I finally drank a cup of coffee while it was still hot.

The best part is that it’s actually 100% food-grade silicone, completely BPA and phthalate-free, and purposely designed without any weird tiny parts that could snap off in his mouth. Plus, when it inevitably got dropped on the floor of a public target bathroom—because of course it did—I could just take it home and literally throw it in the top rack of the dishwasher. It didn't melt or warp. Seriously, if you've a teething baby who's currently destroying your life, get one of these and keep it in your freezer.

If you're currently surviving on three hours of broken sleep and whatever crumbs you found at the bottom of the snack drawer, you should probably just take a second to browse Kianao's baby essentials before you completely lose your mind.

What to honestly do with your hypebeast accessories

So what did I do with the Baby Milo keychain? I definitely didn't throw it away. I paid too much for it and Dave would have cried. I just repurposed it. Diaper bags are usually incredibly boring, and when you become a mom, you kind of lose your personal identity for a while. You just become "Maya's mom" or "Leo's mom." Clipping a cool streetwear keychain to the zipper of my diaper bag or the foam handle of my stroller was my tiny, desperate way of holding onto my pre-kid self.

Honestly, BAPE makes these reflective keychain versions too. Which is honestly super practical if you're stuck doing the dreaded 5 PM witching-hour stroller walk in November when the sun goes down at basically lunchtime and you're just praying that the cars backing out of driveways can see you.

You have to find ways to make the baby gear work for you. Like with clothing. We constantly used the Organic Cotton Baby Bodysuit Sleeveless Infant Onesie when Leo was little. It’s fine. It’s a onesie, you know? It didn’t magically make him sleep through the night or cure his terrible mood swings, but it’s really soft and it completely stopped those weird, rough eczema patches he used to get from synthetic fabrics, so I just kept buying them in every single size until he outgrew them. It does its job and keeps them covered.

And when they aren't screaming from teething or ruining their onesies, you still have to keep them safely occupied so you can do wild, luxurious things like brush your own teeth. I used to just lay Leo flat on his back under the Wooden Baby Gym | Rainbow Play Gym Set with Animal Toys and let him aggressively bat at the little wooden elephant. It was so aesthetically pleasing that Dave never once complained about it ruining our living room decor, and the sound of the wooden rings clacking together was honestly kind of peaceful compared to those plastic toys that light up and sing off-key songs until you want to smash them with a hammer.

The before and after of my tired mom brain

Before I knew better, I genuinely operated under the delusion that anything small, colorful, and vaguely cartoonish was basically a baby toy. I thought a monkey keychain was fine. I thought my metal keys were fine. I thought I was surviving.

Now I know that just because something looks incredibly cute doesn't mean it won't land you in the pediatric ER with a chipped tooth or a swallowed carabiner clip. Just peel the expensive streetwear monkey off your car keys, clip it safely out of reach on your diaper bag zipper where it honestly belongs, and hand your screaming kid a solid piece of food-grade silicone while you pray to whatever higher power is listening for ten minutes of unbroken quiet.

If you need actual, pediatrician-approved soothing gear that won't make your doctor sigh heavily at your next appointment, go check out the Kianao teething collection right now so you can stop stressing about what's going into your baby's mouth.

Can a baby chew on a PVC keychain if the label says it's non-toxic?

Honestly, my doctor said absolutely not, and I trust him more than a fashion brand's marketing label. Even if it says non-phthalate or non-toxic, PVC is just not designed for a baby's mouth. Plus, it's not just about the plastic—it's the metal chains and clips that are attached to it. They're massive choking hazards and can slice up their little gums. Save the keychains for your bags.

What's the absolute best way to clean actual silicone teethers?

I'm far too lazy to boil water every time Leo drops his teether on the floor, which is roughly seventy times a day. Food-grade silicone is virtually indestructible, so I literally just throw ours in the top rack of the dishwasher. If we're out in public, I just wash it in the sink with warm water and whatever hand soap is there, rinse it super well, and hand it back. Don't overcomplicate it.

Why do people even put keychains on strollers anyway?

Because we're desperate for a shred of individuality, okay? When you're pushing the exact same black or grey stroller as four other moms at the park, clipping a Baby Milo keychain or a cool charm to the handle helps you identify your stroller in the chaotic sea of baby gear. It's just stroller flair. It makes us feel cool.

Is the BAPE brand honestly meant for kids?

No, not really. BAPE does have a kids' clothing line (BAPE Kids), but the brand itself is fundamentally a high-end streetwear label for adults who care deeply about hype culture and sneakers. The accessories, especially the keychains and figures, are collector's items. Dave treats his BAPE stuff better than he treats his own car.

At what age did your kids finally stop trying to eat your keys?

Oh god, I wish I had a solid answer for this. Leo stopped trying to eat my keys around two and a half, but he replaced it with trying to eat actual dirt from the yard. Maya is seven and she still absentmindedly chews on the strings of her hoodies when she's watching iPad. Kids are just weirdly oral creatures. Just give them safe things to chew on and hope for the best.