Learning to Turn Down the Volume

Sometimes regulation starts with safety — and safety begins with understanding what overwhelms your child, even when they can’t explain it yet.

From My Home to Yours: Learning to Turn Down the Volume

From the time my son was little, we knew something was different when it came to sound. When we played outside in the yard and a motorcycle passed, he’d cover his ears, scream, and run inside. He was tiny — not even two — and already trying to protect himself from a world that felt too loud.

We began noticing it at events like a local Touch-a-Truck day — a community gathering where kids can explore and climb into real trucks, police cars, ambulances, and fire engines. While other kids eagerly hopped in and pressed buttons, our son stood to the side with his hands pressed tightly over his ears, his eyes darting from vehicle to vehicle. He couldn’t take it all in — it was too much, too fast, and too loud.

One Fourth of July, when Vin was about four years old, while the other kids oohed and ahhed under the fireworks, he stood frozen with his hands tightly clasped over his ears, asking over and over, “Why are they booming? Why are they so loud?” His eyes were wide with confusion. His little body trembled. He wasn’t just scared — he was overwhelmed. And while most people saw a tantrum or avoidance, what we saw was sensory overload.

Over the years, we started seeing it more clearly. At local festivals, birthday parties, restaurants — anywhere with background noise or crowded chatter — he’d instinctively cover his ears. Sometimes he’d cry. Other times he’d shut down completely.

One spring afternoon, we went to a restaurant with extended family. The weather was perfect, the place was buzzing, and everyone was in good spirits. But as we settled at the table, I looked to my left and saw him — still, silent, eyes beginning to well up. I leaned in gently and asked, “What’s up bud, are you okay?”
He hesitated. His lip quivered. And in the softest, saddest voice, he said, "There's so many people. It hurts my ears."

That was the moment we knew — he didn’t need distractions. He didn’t need redirection. He needed relief. He needed tools.

That’s when we introduced noise-canceling headphones. And for our son, they became a lifeline. He could still be with us, but on his terms. The headphones gave him a bubble — a sense of safety when the world got too loud. And perhaps the most powerful part? We’d watch him, after a while, carefully lift one side… then the other. Listening. Testing. Deciding for himself when he was ready to re-engage and remove the headphones.

We began bringing the headphones with us wherever we thought he might need them — to the arcade for a fun family outing, festivals, restaurants, etc. For the first time, we were even able to go to the movie theater as a family together — something that had once felt out of reach. With the headphones on, he could step into the noise without being consumed by it.

🔍 What I Learned

Regulation isn’t about removing the world — it’s about giving kids tools to face it. For our son, the headphones weren’t a crutch. They were confidence.

💡 Why This Stuck With Me

That quiet whisper at the restaurant reminded me how often our kids don’t have the words — until they do. And when they do, we have the chance to listen and give them what they truly need.