December often feels full of shifts and changes. Growing up with parents in separate homes, I learned early how different households can have their own rhythms, expectations, and ways of celebrating. For a child, moving between these spaces isn’t just confusing — it can feel heavy and unsettling.
As a parent now, I notice how children experience transitions even more vividly. Their bodies often signal overwhelm before they have words to express it. They might become clingy, retreat quietly, or have sudden meltdowns — and that’s their nervous system asking for support. Even minor changes — a later bedtime, a new routine, or a different holiday plan — can feel like a big adjustment for a child.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that presence matters more than perfection. Children are watching, feeling, and absorbing the energy around them. When adults slow down, notice shifts, and prioritize connection, children can begin to feel grounded, safe, and understood — even amidst the busyness of December.
Steady anchors can make all the difference. Here are some ways I approach transitions with children and the families I work with:
Connection First
Before trying to redirect behavior, move on to the next activity, or fix a problem, I check in. I notice their energy, tone, and behavior. Naming what they might be feeling is simple but powerful: "That was a lot of change today. Your body might feel tired or off-balance." These moments of connection signal to the nervous system that it’s safe to slow down. When children feel seen first, everything else — routines, transitions, expectations — becomes easier to navigate.
Before trying to redirect behavior, move on to the next activity, or fix a problem, I check in. I notice their energy, tone, and behavior. Naming what they might be feeling is simple but powerful: "That was a lot of change today. Your body might feel tired or off-balance." These moments of connection signal to the nervous system that it’s safe to slow down. When children feel seen first, everything else — routines, transitions, expectations — becomes easier to navigate.
Predictable Routines
Children thrive on predictable rhythms. Between homes or activities, keeping familiar routines consistent can help anchor them. When my children were very young, I sometimes questioned the need to maintain these rhythms, worried it might feel too rigid. Over the years, I’ve learned that even something as simple as a familiar breakfast ritual can be a secret superpower — a small anchor that builds deeper connection and trust and helps children feel safe when they are gently led and supported. Familiar breakfast routines, bedtime stories, or short check-ins during transitions provide stability and help children navigate the inevitable shifts of December — and sometimes they’re the only thing keeping the morning coffee warm.
Children thrive on predictable rhythms. Between homes or activities, keeping familiar routines consistent can help anchor them. When my children were very young, I sometimes questioned the need to maintain these rhythms, worried it might feel too rigid. Over the years, I’ve learned that even something as simple as a familiar breakfast ritual can be a secret superpower — a small anchor that builds deeper connection and trust and helps children feel safe when they are gently led and supported. Familiar breakfast routines, bedtime stories, or short check-ins during transitions provide stability and help children navigate the inevitable shifts of December — and sometimes they’re the only thing keeping the morning coffee warm.
Sensory Pauses
The holiday season comes with extra noise, lights, and activity. For children, these changes can feel overwhelming. Short sensory breaks — a quiet cuddle, a walk outside, or a few minutes of deep breathing — give their nervous systems space to reset. Even noticing that a child needs a moment to stretch, shake, or move can prevent overwhelm from building into a full meltdown. These pauses are acts of respect for the child’s body — and, honestly, for your sanity too.
The holiday season comes with extra noise, lights, and activity. For children, these changes can feel overwhelming. Short sensory breaks — a quiet cuddle, a walk outside, or a few minutes of deep breathing — give their nervous systems space to reset. Even noticing that a child needs a moment to stretch, shake, or move can prevent overwhelm from building into a full meltdown. These pauses are acts of respect for the child’s body — and, honestly, for your sanity too.
December also brings cultural and family expectations. One household may celebrate with certain traditions, another with different rhythms. Children pick up on all of it — from tone of voice to subtle shifts in energy. That’s why anchoring them with connection, routine, and sensory breaks is so important. They don’t need perfection or constant entertainment; they need steadiness and attunement.
Being attuned doesn’t just help children; it helps parents, too. Noticing our own nervous system allows us to model calm, regulated behavior. Stepping outside for a few minutes to breathe or quietly observing a child can help both parent and child settle. Presence is contagious, and children feel it immediately.
As a parent in the Santa Cruz area, I notice that even in a slower, small-town environment, December has its own rhythm: twinkling holiday lights along local streets, school parties, and neighborhood gatherings. Even here, transitions between homes, events, and expectations are felt strongly by children. Recognizing and supporting those transitions is an act of care, not indulgence.
This December, I’m remembering that the most meaningful gift we can give children isn’t more lights, parties, or toys. It’s attunement, steady presence, and practices that help their nervous systems feel safe and regulated, even amidst change. Connection first. Routines second. Sensory pauses third. These anchors give children a place to return to, no matter where they are, what’s happening around them, or how busy the season gets.
Staying rooted in connection means allowing ourselves to feel, to pause, and to return to our neutral state again and again. In the noise and activity of the season, these small moments of regulation are acts of deep love — quiet reminders that we deserve the same care and attunement we so readily offer to others.
Tovah Petra, MA, is a Somatic Practitioner and the creator of the Whole Family, Whole Child approach, where she helps parents of neurodivergent kids create emotionally safe, attuned, and connected homes — while also nurturing their own nervous systems, relationships, and intimate connection.
Learn more at: www.tovahpetra.com
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