Supporting Little Ones Through Halloween Sensory Overload

Halloween always sounds like the perfect classroom celebration — the laughter, the costumes, the themed games, and that festive hum that fills the school halls. But for many young children, especially those with sensory sensitivities, the excitement of the day can quickly become overwhelming.

When “Fun” Feels Overwhelming

Sensory processing differences are incredibly common among young children — not only for those with diagnosed sensory processing disorder or autism, but also for many neurotypical kids still learning to manage the world’s sensory demands. A costume that feels fine for one child might feel itchy, hot, tight, or scratchy to another. Add bright lights, music, excited chatter, and new routines, and you have a day that’s full of sensory input from every direction.

We often think of Halloween as “fun for everyone,” but the truth is, fun looks different for every child. When the sights, sounds, and sensations pile up, their nervous system can go into overdrive — not because they’re being “difficult,” but because they’re simply overwhelmed.

Expectation vs. Reality — The Fall Festival Story

One year, during my time teaching Pre-K, we hosted what I thought was going to be the perfect Fall Festival. Students came dressed in costumes, parents volunteered, and we transformed the courtyard into a rotation of carnival-style games and booths. It was colorful, festive, and buzzing with excitement — exactly how I pictured a great celebration should look.

And for some children, it truly was magical. They laughed with friends, proudly showed off their costumes, and moved eagerly from one booth to the next.

But for others, the reality was much harder. The noise level was intense, directions were fast-paced, and some games required skills or concepts they didn’t quite understand yet. What was meant to be fun started to feel confusing, loud, and unpredictable.

I quickly realized that while I was rotating through stations with the large group, some of my students were struggling just to make it through the next few minutes. One of my incredible paraprofessionals stayed back in the classroom to create a quiet, familiar space for those who needed it. Another para helped escort children back and forth as needed — giving them the chance to take a sensory break whenever things felt “too big.”

Back in the calm classroom, those children relaxed almost instantly. They played with blocks, colored quietly, or looked at books with a friend. They smiled again. Watching that happen shifted something for me — I realized that keeping the day joyful doesn’t mean every child has to do everything. Sometimes, the best part of a special day is giving children the freedom to experience it in a way that feels safe for them.

What Sensory Overload Can Look Like

Sensory overload can show up in lots of ways — covering ears, crying, hiding, or shutting down completely. Some children might appear “hyper” or unfocused, while others might seem withdrawn or refuse to participate. It’s not defiance; it’s self-preservation. Their brains are trying to protect them from too much input.

Shifting Our Focus: Child-Centered Celebrations

The most meaningful classroom celebrations are child-centered. That doesn’t mean no costumes or no fun — it means recognizing that “fun” can look different for every student.

Here are a few ways we can make Halloween (and similar special events) feel inclusive and joyful for all:

1. Preview the Day.

Talk about what will happen — in simple, clear language — and use visuals or social stories to help students understand what to expect.

2. Offer Costume Flexibility.

Let families know it’s okay to modify or skip costumes altogether. Pajama days, themed shirts, or favorite-color outfits can still feel festive.

3. Keep Routines Steady.

Maintain the same morning routine and schedule wherever possible. Predictability is comforting, especially on high-energy days.

4. Plan for Breaks.

Create a calm-down corner or classroom “safe space” for children who need a sensory break. Let them know it’s always okay to use it.

5. Simplify Instructions.

If games or activities have complex directions, simplify them or provide visual cues so all students can participate at their comfort level.

6. Focus on Connection Over Compliance.

If a child opts out of an activity, that’s okay. Find ways to connect with them — a small helper role, a quiet game, or simply sharing a book together.

Why I Created “When My Costume Feels Uncomfortable”

After years of watching children struggle through events like that Fall Festival, I wanted to give teachers and parents a way to prepare kids before those big sensory days. That’s how When My Costume Feels Uncomfortable was born — a gentle, rhyming social story that helps children understand what’s happening in their bodies when something feels “too much.”

The story walks them through common experiences — scratchy fabric, loud sounds, different routines — and introduces self-regulation strategies in kid-friendly language. It reassures them that it’s okay to feel uncomfortable, and that there are ways to feel better, like asking for a break or choosing softer layers.

It’s perfect to read at school during circle time or at home before trick-or-treating. The goal isn’t to eliminate the challenges entirely — it’s to give children the tools, confidence, and understanding they need to navigate them.

Keeping the Day About the Child

At the end of the day, Halloween doesn’t have to be perfect — it just has to be positive. When we make celebrations about the child instead of the checklist, we create room for joy in all its forms.

For some children, that joy might come from parading proudly in their costume. For others, it might come from coloring pumpkins quietly in the classroom, or helping a friend pick up beanbags after a game. Both are equally valuable.

When we lead with empathy and flexibility, we remind children that their feelings are valid, their comfort matters, and that there’s no “wrong” way to celebrate.

Because sometimes, the best Halloween memories aren’t about the costumes at all — they’re about being seen, understood, and accepted just as they are.