The Hidden Cost of Summer Holidays
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The Hidden Cost of Summer Holidays: What 6 Weeks Off Does to a Sensory-Sensitive Child (and Their Parents)
Six weeks. That's how long summer holidays last in South Africa. Six weeks of disrupted routines, overstimulation, no school structure, and—if you're parenting a child with sensory sensitivities—six weeks of watching your child's nervous system slowly unravel.
This December, we lived it. Again.
My daughter Ada is noise-sensitive and struggles with attention regulation. The festive season brought everything her nervous system finds challenging: crowds, unexpected visitors, loud family gatherings, late nights, sugar overload, and the complete collapse of her usual routine. Add to that me being sick, her dad being sick, both kids being sick, and zero support network during the shutdown, and you have a recipe for complete dysregulation—not just for Ada, but for both of us as parents too.
By week three, we weren't just tired. We were touched out, overstimulated, and running on fumes. And I realised something: we talk about our children's dysregulation—often filtered through carefully curated social media posts—but we rarely talk honestly about how we're actually coping. Or not coping. Pride keeps us quiet about the messy reality.
(And just to keep it real: as I carve time out to write this, I am by no means sitting in a quiet room. My youngest daughter is currently sitting on my back as I type, pretending to ride a horse.)
What regulation breakdown actually looks like:
For Ada, it started small—or actually, it started two to three weeks before the holidays even began. The lead-up to Christmas disrupted her sleep, with excitement building until she was waking us at 3am to talk about something Christmas-related. Emotional reactions over minor transitions. Things not happening in the exact order she'd expected. Heightened sensitivity to anything unexperienced or unplanned. Waking at 4-5am every morning through the holidays, her nervous system running on a potent mix of excitement and anxiety. Increased fidgeting at family gatherings and busy restaurants. A shorter attention span when the world felt too loud, too much.
For us as parents? I'm going to be honest here... Shorter fuses. Less patience. Our own heightened sensitivity to everything. That constant background hum of stress that makes even simple things feel monumental. The mental load of constantly scanning for triggers, pre-empting meltdowns, managing other people's expectations of "normal" holiday behaviour. And when you're both sick on top of it? Forget co-regulation—you're in pure survival mode.
Why holidays are so hard for sensory kids:
The very things that make holidays special for neurotypical children—novelty, excitement, spontaneity, socialising—are the things that overwhelm a nervous system that craves predictability and calm.
- Routine disruption: No school means no structure. No structure means constant uncertainty.
- Sensory overload: More people, more noise, more stimulation everywhere.
- Pressure to perform: Family gatherings where they're expected to sit still at long meals, "be polite."
- Sugar and late nights: Inflammatory foods and sleep deprivation that compound dysregulation.
And here's what most people don't see: the recovery time. It's not just the six weeks of chaos. It's the two weeks after, where you're slowly rebuilding regulation, reestablishing routine, soothing an overtaxed nervous system back to baseline.
And the parental toll:
When both parents are depleted—physically sick, emotionally drained, touched out—there's no one left to hold the calm. We couldn't tag-team. We couldn't give each other breaks. We were both running on empty, trying to be the regulated adult Ada needed, while our own nervous systems were screaming for rest.
What I learnt:
1. Our regulation affects hers (and vice versa)
When we're dysregulated—stressed, overwhelmed, touched out—Ada picks up on it immediately. Her nervous system mirrors ours. Co-regulation isn't just about us calming her; it's about us staying calm so she can borrow our regulation.
But that's hard to do when you're both running on empty.
2. Parents need regulation tools too
We spend so much energy finding tools for our kids—weighted blankets, fidget toys, noise-cancelling headphones. But what about us? Where are the regulation tools for burnt-out parents who need to stay calm in the chaos?
I found myself reaching for Ada's weighted neck pillow during a particularly stressful moment. It helped. When possible i even took a Balasana, (Childs Pose) and did some stretches but yoga wasn't even remotely as available to me during this time as i would normally like it to be. And I thought: so many people I know could benefit from something easy and accessible to use...like this.
3. Prevention > damage control
By week four, I realised we should have been more proactive. More sensory breaks. More proprioceptive input (jumping, deep pressure, weighted tools). Creating more dependable timelines to the day—more structure, more predictability—instead of pushing through social obligations.
A prime example: Just the other day, we joined my parents for brunch at a café. I was rushing and forgot to bring any activities for Ada. She wasn't interested in being there—she had other ideas about how she wanted to spend her time. Without going into all the details, it ended with me—a 56-kilo woman—carrying my 36-kilo daughter out of the café before we'd even finished eating. Removing her from the situation became unavoidable. And apart from being quite proud of my physical strength in effortlessly carrying her 50 metres, it left us both emotionally drained—and a table of somewhat bewildered relatives behind us.
Simple things I kicked myself for not doing: packing a sensory activity kit for restaurant visits—colouring books, writing activities, story books, busy finger accessories, her noise-reducing hoodie (a sample from my Qalm collection that I'm developing at the moment), a music player with headphones—anything to keep the kids occupied and calm when we decided last-minute to grab lunch out. Small preparation that could have prevented dysregulation.
We can't always control the chaos, but we can control the tools we give our kids—and ourselves—to manage it.
4. Sensory-friendly tools shouldn't look medical
Ada often reaches for my engagement ring, rubbing her hand along it for sensory input. Or she pulls her hoodie over her head and draws the eye patch down (part of the Calm Focus Hoodie I'm developing). It's occurred to me time and time again how regulation tools can be small, discreet, and woven into everyday life—not specialised equipment—and still provide significant sensory input.
Sensory tools need to look normal. Kids (and adults) won't use tools that make them feel different, broken, or medicalised—even if they desperately need them.
5. We need to go easier on ourselves
I can write about everything we should have done differently—the sensory kits, the structure, the proactive breaks. But here's the truth: we're human. We won't get it right. We can't always predict what will tip the scales from regulated to dysregulated.
I've felt the guilt acutely these past weeks—not just about Ada, but about this business I'm building. The frustration of not posting, not making progress, not finding time to work on Qalm-Wear while surviving the holiday chaos. The voice that says I should be doing more, moving faster, staying visible.
But as Ada says, "through mistakes we learn." And she's right. The guilt doesn't serve us. Forgiveness does.
This is why I'm building Qalm-Wear
Not because the world needs another weighted blanket. But because we all need regulation tools that:
- Look like regular clothing and accessories (not therapy equipment)
- Work for adults AND kids (because parents need regulation too)
- Use natural, non-toxic materials
- Are designed with real therapeutic input (I'm working with an occupational therapist and paediatrician)
- Make nervous system support accessible and unstigmatised
While I appreciate them, I'm also tired of sensory-friendly products that scream "special needs." I want people to have tools that help them regulate without making them feel different. I want tools for parents—because when we're dysregulated, we can't help our kids.
What we're launching:
April 2026, Qalm-Wear goes live with a curated collection:
Fidget tools that look like jewellery, not therapy toys. Chewable necklaces in adult-appropriate designs. Stress balls that aren't bright primary colours.
Weighted accessories you can wear anywhere—collars, sleeves—that provide proprioceptive input without looking medical.
Sensory-friendly clothing designed to support regulation through the day: noise-reducing hoodies with soft, non-scratchy fabrics. Fidget-friendly details. Weighted options that feel like a hug, not a medical device.
Join us:
If you've survived the holiday regulation rollercoaster and you're exhausted, touched out, and wishing there were better tools out there—we see you.
If your child struggles with sensory overload and you're tired of products that make them feel "different"—we're building this for you.
If you're realising that you as a parent need regulation support too—this is for all of us.
Qalm-Wear launches April 2026. Join the waitlist and be the first to know when we go live. First 20 customers get 10% off.
Because regulation shouldn't look like therapy. It should look like life.
Here's to shorter summer holidays, better tools, and nervous systems that get the support they deserve.
Francesca
Founder, Qalm-Wear