🎄 When Christmas Feels Big: Navigating the Festive Season With Sensory Needs, Siblings, and a Stretched-Too-Thin Nervous System

School’s out ! And if you’re anything like me, that brings a complicated mix of joy, relief… and a rising tide of stress you can feel in your chest before the first lunchbox even hits the sink.

Our nervous systems are already frayed after a full year of therapy appointments, school meetings, NDIS plan reviews, medical procedures, juggling work, and carrying the invisible labour that comes with raising children with additional needs. And now we’re stepping into the festive season — the season that’s supposed to be magical, sparkly, and overflowing with memory-making.

But for many of us, especially parents of neurodivergent or sensory-sensitive kids, this time of year can be heartbreakingly complex.

Because while other families might be planning their visits to see Santa, their Christmas parades, their markets and twilight carols… we’re standing here quietly hoping our children can get through the next hour without becoming overwhelmed.

And if you’re a parent with multiple children — like so many of the mums I support — the grief can double. There are the moments you miss as a family because one child cannot manage it, and the moments sibling children lose because the environment simply isn’t accessible. “Another year,” you think, “another thing they couldn’t experience.”

It’s devastating.
It’s isolating.
And it’s something so few people truly understand.

A Moment That Changed Me: The Camping Story

Earlier this year we were camping, something our family genuinely loves. There’s something about the open air, the trees, and the sense of slowing down that usually helps us all breathe a little easier.

It was one of those rare afternoons where everything felt peaceful. The kids were riding their bikes, the fire was crackling, I put on some music and actually, finally, let my shoulders drop.

Then suddenly, without warning, my neurodivergent daughter bolted.

Her nervous system flipped into fight-or-flight instantly. One second she was there, the next she was running, fast and frantic.

I went after her immediately but it took nearly thirty minutes to bring her back to the campsite.
Thirty minutes of fear.
Thirty minutes of dysregulation.
Thirty minutes of watching her panic while trying to stay calm myself.

By the time she settled again, my music had stopped, the kettle was cold, and that tiny pocket of peace I had only just stepped into… was gone.

And the hardest part?
I grieved that moment.
Not because she did anything wrong — she didn’t.
But because sometimes the simplest, smallest moments are taken from us without warning.

And that’s exactly how the festive season can feel when you’re raising a child with sensory needs.

The Grief We Don’t Talk About: The Lost Christmas Moments

We all walk into December with an idea of how it should look:

✨ A Santa photo where everyone smiles
✨ Twilight carols on a picnic rug
✨ Christmas markets and parades
✨ The magic, the joy, the warmth

But sometimes, all too often, those moments don’t happen for families like ours.

They end in meltdowns.
Or they begin in them.
Or we simply don’t attempt them because we already know it will be too overwhelming.

And if you have other children, the grief expands.
You don’t just mourn the moment for one child you mourn the moment for all of them.

And in those moments, the guilt creeps in:
Am I failing? Am I letting everyone down? Why does this have to feel so hard?

But you’re not failing.
You are navigating a level of emotional, physical, and mental labour most people never see.
You are doing everything you can with a nervous system that is already overstretched.

And you deserve compassion, not judgement especially from yourself.

What Helps: Five Strategies for a Gentler Christmas

1. Choose low-demand, high-impact activities
Think Christmas movie nights, decorating a gingerbread house, simple baking, building a festive LEGO set, or making salt dough ornaments. These are cosy, connection-driven moments that don’t overwhelm.

2. Look for sensory-friendly Santa sessions
No queues, dim lights, no loud music — many shopping centres offer these now, and they can give you the moment you thought wasn’t possible.

3. Let yourself grieve and remember: it’s sensory, not personal
Your child isn’t choosing difficulty. Their nervous system is overwhelmed. Grief is natural. Give it space, then gently look for what is possible.

4. Embrace stolen moments, not big events
A single Christmas book before bed, looking at lights from the car, one decorated cookie — these become beautiful memories.

5. Create “calm from chaos” routines
Visual schedules, sensory toolkits, predictability, and structured downtime before and after outings help everyone stay more regulated.

These strategies aren’t “less than.”
They are accessible, realistic, and deeply meaningful.

You Are Doing Better Than You Think

If this season feels big and you are not alone.
The festive season doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to match the Instagram version. It doesn’t have to follow anyone else’s traditions.

It only needs to honour your child’s needs, your family’s reality, and your nervous system.

And sometimes, that looks beautifully simple.

✨ Want more support, guidance, and real conversations? Join my email list.

If you’re raising children with complex needs and trying to stay regulated, hopeful, and somewhat sane through it all, you’re my people.

My emails are designed to support parents like us navigating:

🌿 sensory needs
🌿 NDIS planning, therapy juggling, and advocating
🌿 grief, burnout, and emotional load
🌿 self-care that actually fits into your real life
🌿 building a calmer home, one small shift at a time

You’ll also get access to gentle guides — like my newest one:

🎄 Ten Gentle Festive Activities for kids with sensory needs
(a free download to help you create connection without overwhelm)

👉 Join the Thriving Slowly email list here

You don’t have to navigate this season alone.
I’m right here with you — gently, slowly, and with so much care.