12 Days of Sensory Mas (Part 1)
The holidays are supposed to be magical.
But when your child's nervous system is already working overtime just to navigate a regular Tuesday, the holidays can feel like sensory overload wrapped in tinsel and expectation.
You already know the basics. You've packed the safe foods, you understand what stimming is, you've done the heavy work activities.
But knowing what to do and knowing when and how to do it in the chaos of the holidays? That's the gap.
Welcome to the 12 Days of Sensory Mas — the next-level strategies for families who are past Sensory 101 and need the nuance.
This is Part 1. Let's go.
Day 1: The 2-Minute Heavy Work Reset (But Make It Strategic)
You know what heavy work is. You've done the wall pushes and the animal walks.
But here's what most people miss: Not all heavy work does the same thing.
There's calming heavy work and alerting heavy work. And using the wrong one at the wrong time can backfire.
The difference:
Calming/organizing heavy work: Slow, rhythmic, predictable
→ Use when: overstimulated, anxious, heading toward meltdown
→ Examples: slow wall pushes, carrying something heavy at a steady pace, tight squeezes
Alerting/energizing heavy work: Fast, dynamic, unpredictable
→ Use when: zoning out, shutting down, lethargic
→ Examples: jumping, crashing into couch cushions, fast animal walks
The holiday application:
Before entering a loud gathering: Calming heavy work (10 slow carpushes in the driveway)
After sitting still through dinner: Alerting heavy work (crash pad time, jumping, rough play)
When you see the glazed-over look: Alerting work brings them back online
When everything is TOO MUCH: Calming work helps them organize
Most sensory meltdowns happen because we're giving alerting input when they need calming, or vice versa.
Watch your child's baseline. High energy + overstimulated = needs slow-down input. Low energy + disconnected = needs wake-up input.
Day 2: The "Leave Early" Plan (When Your Partner Won't Leave)
You've mastered leaving early when you're the one who sees it coming.
But what about when your partner says "just 15 more minutes" and you know those 15 minutes are going to cost you the next three days?
The real issue:
It's not that your partner doesn't care. It's that they're not seeing what you're seeing, or they're managing their nervous system (people-pleasing, guilt, wanting to be "normal") at the expense of the family, namely your kids.
The strategy:
Before you go, agree on the cues.
Not "when they seem overwhelmed" — that's too subjective.
Pick concrete, observable signs you both agree mean it's time to go:
Covering ears
Increased stimming intensity
Retreating to another room
Shorter responses/monosyllabic answers
Physical aggression or self-injury
Refusal to eat safe foods
Then make a pact: When we see two of these, we leave. No debate.
When they push back in the moment:
You don't need to convince them.
You can say: "I'm taking [child] to the car. You can stay if you want, but we agreed on this."
Or: "I need you to trust me on this one."
The hard truth:
Sometimes you have to protect your child's nervous system even when your partner isn't on the same page yet.
And sometimes your partner needs to see the three-day recovery period enough times before they start seeing the early warning signs you've been seeing all along.
For them to stop overreacting and move to pattern-recognizing.
Day 3: The Safe Foods Rule (When Family Won't Accommodate)
You bring the safe foods. You always do.
But this year, Aunt Carol made a pointed comment about "catering to pickiness" and Grandma keeps pushing "just one bite" even though you've explained this a hundred times.
Here's the thing:
Some people will never get it. And you can't make them.
But you can control how much access they have to your child during meals.
The advanced strategy:
Create a buffer zone.
If you know certain family members are going to pressure, comment, or create food shame, don't sit near them.
Sit at the kids' table with your child. Sit at the end of the table. Eat in a different room if you need to.
You're not being rude. You're being protective.
When they comment anyway:
You don't owe them education. You don't owe them an explanation. You've already given it.
This time, try:
"We've talked about this." (then change subject)
"This isn't up for discussion." (firm, no smile)
"I need you to stop." (if they persist)
The nuclear option:
If someone deliberately tries to sneak in non-safe foods, hides ingredients, or actively undermines your child's food trust?
You leave. Immediately.
And you don't come back until there's a genuine apology and changed behavior.
Your child's trust around food is more important than keeping the peace.
Day 4: The Stimming Explanation (For People Who Already "Know")
You've explained stimming before. They've nodded. They've said they understand.
And then they still try to redirect it, minimize it, or worse — they say "I know, but not here."
This isn't about education anymore. This is about boundaries.
For the "I know, but..." people:
"We're not stopping it. This is non-negotiable."
For the "Can't they just tone it down?" people:
"Would you ask someone to 'tone down' their heartbeat? This is how their nervous system works."
For the "What will people think?" people:
"I'm more concerned with my child's wellbeing than strangers' opinions."
When they say it's "disruptive":
"What's disruptive is asking them to suppress their regulation. We're not doing that."
The deeper work:
Sometimes the person who needs the boundary-setting is you.
If you find yourself apologizing for your child's stimming, redirecting it in public, or feeling embarrassed — that's internalized ableism talking.
Your child is listening to how you talk about their body.
Practice saying "That's just how they move" with the same neutrality as "That's just how they laugh."
Because it is.
I hope you found part 1 useful, and will stick around. Coming soon: Part 2 of the 12 Days of Sensory Mas
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