Managing Expectations During the Holidays

The holidays are supposed to be magical, right? Sparkling lights, hot cocoa, festive activities with the kids—all the picture-perfect moments we see on Instagram. As parents, especially parents to ASD kiddos, it’s so easy to fall into the trap of imagining how amazing these moments could be. And yet, if you’re anything like me, you know that reality tends to have its own plans. 

Take last year, for instance. I had big dreams of taking the boys to a gingerbread house-making event. In my mind, it was going to be adorable: frosting-covered fingers, giggles, and maybe—just maybe—a cute little gingerbread house we could proudly display at home. I was genuinely excited, ready to make a core holiday memory.  

Cue the chaos.  

We walked into the event, and within minutes, my sensory-seeking kiddo was eating the gumdrops straight off the community decorating table (yes, the one meant for everyone). My other son, meanwhile, was not-so-gently informing me that the frosting was "too sticky" and the noise in the room was “ too loud." Before I could even begin damage control, the first gingerbread wall collapsed, leading to a total meltdown—and I don’t mean the frosting kind.  

We lasted a grand total of 15 minutes. By the time we got back to the car, I was sweaty, frazzled, and teetering between tears and hysterical laughter. The gingerbread house? Never stood a chance.  

But here’s the thing: as disastrous as it felt in the moment, it was a lesson in managing my own expectations. I realized that I was putting so much pressure on myself—and the boys—to create a picture-perfect holiday moment that I forgot to think about what they might actually enjoy.  

The Holiday "Helpful Suggestions" Loop 

As if the stress of navigating holiday activities wasn’t enough, the holidays also seem to be prime time for unsolicited advice from well-meaning relatives. You know the ones—the aunt who’s read an article about gluten-free diets curing autism, the cousin who thinks Fraser is a brand-new suggestion you’ve never heard of, and the grandparent who asks, “Have you thought about getting his hearing checked?”  

(It’s always the hearing. Yes, Aunt Judy, we’ve checked his hearing. Multiple times.)  

And let’s not forget the suggestions that come with a side of judgment, like, “If you just worked on discipline more…” or the ever-popular, “I saw this program online, and you should try it.” These comments, while well-meaning, can sting, especially when they come during a season that’s already emotionally loaded.  

What I’ve learned is that most of these comments come from a place of love or curiosity, not malice. But that doesn’t make them any easier to hear. My strategy? Smile, nod, and remember that no one knows your child like you do. You’re the expert here, and it’s okay to kindly redirect the conversation or even let those comments roll off your back. 

Finding Joy in Imperfection

So, what’s the takeaway from my gingerbread disaster and the endless loop of holiday “helpful suggestions”? It’s this: The holidays don’t have to be perfect to be meaningful.  

Sometimes, the best memories aren’t the ones we plan—they’re the ones that happen in the in-between moments. Like snuggling on the couch watching Home Alone (a.k.a. “Strangers”) for the 10th time because the boys actually like it. Or driving around to look at Christmas lights, even if it means sitting in traffic with endless snack requests from the backseat.  

As parents to ASD kiddos, we know that flexibility is key, but during the holidays, it’s especially true. This season, I’m reminding myself to focus on what works for our family, to let go of what doesn’t, and to embrace the imperfect moments.  

Because, let’s be honest: no one remembers the picture-perfect gingerbread house. But the story of how it all went hilariously wrong? That’s one for the memory books.  

To all my fellow ASD parents out there, you’re doing an amazing job. The holidays can be magical, chaotic, and everything in between, but remember this: your love and effort are what make the season special for your kiddos. So, let’s take a deep breath, lower our expectations just a smidge, and focus on the moments that matter—messy, sticky, and perfectly imperfect as they may be.  

Happy holidays, friends.