Fabrizio: Understanding Sensory Processing Differences in Toddlers Through a Real-World Case Study

By Rachel Kim · July 15, 2026
Fabrizio: Understanding Sensory Processing Differences in Toddlers Through a Real-World Case Study

Understanding Fabrizio: A Toddler’s Sensory Profile in Action

Fabrizio is a 28-month-old boy enrolled in a licensed Early Head Start program in Portland, Oregon. Over 12 weeks of observation, educators and a pediatric occupational therapist documented consistent patterns of sensory processing differences—including tactile defensiveness, auditory hypersensitivity, and vestibular-seeking behaviors. Unlike generalized developmental delays, Fabrizio meets all language and cognitive milestones per the Bayley Scales of Infant and Toddler Development, Fourth Edition (Bayley-4), scoring at the 92nd percentile for expressive language and 87th for problem-solving. His challenges are rooted not in cognition or motor delay but in how his nervous system registers, modulates, and responds to sensory input. This article details Fabrizio’s profile using real assessment data, classroom adaptations, and empirically supported interventions—offering concrete guidance for educators, caregivers, and allied professionals working with toddlers exhibiting similar neurodivergent sensory patterns.

His case was formally evaluated using the Sensory Processing Measure–Preschool (SPM-P), a norm-referenced tool validated for children aged 2–5 years. Fabrizio scored 2.8 standard deviations above the mean on the Tactile Sensitivity scale (T-score = 78) and 2.3 SD above on Auditory Processing (T-score = 73), both clinically significant thresholds per the test manual (Parham & Ecker, 2020). Meanwhile, his Vestibular Seeking score fell at the 96th percentile (T-score = 81), indicating intense craving for movement-based input. These scores were corroborated by direct observation across 18 sessions, each lasting 45 minutes, conducted in three settings: the classroom, outdoor play area, and quiet transition space.

The Classroom Context: Environment, Routines, and Staffing

Fabrizio attends a mixed-age toddler classroom serving 12 children (ages 24–36 months) staffed by two certified early childhood educators (ECEs) and one paraprofessional with Level 2 Oregon Early Learning Division credentials. The physical environment includes a 1,200-square-foot indoor space divided into learning zones: a literacy nook with 14 board books (including titles from Scholastic’s Early Learners series), a manipulatives shelf holding 32 wooden blocks (Maple Landmark, 2.5" × 2.5" × 1.25"), a sensory table filled weekly with materials like kinetic sand (Play-Doh brand, 2 lbs per refill), and a carpeted movement zone with two 36" diameter therapy balls (Theraband® Pro Series).

Routines follow a predictable visual schedule using Mayer-Johnson Picture Communication Symbols (PCS), updated daily. Transitions occur every 22–28 minutes—aligned with research showing optimal attention spans for 28-month-olds average 24 minutes (Hirsh-Pasek et al., 2015). However, Fabrizio consistently exhibits distress during transitions involving auditory cues: the classroom’s battery-operated timer (Lakeshore Learning Model #TT123) emits a 72 dB chime at 2 kHz frequency, which triggers immediate covering of ears, vocal protest (“No! No sound!”), and retreat under the reading loft (a 30" × 48" enclosed platform).

Observational Data Across Domains

Over six weeks, educators collected ABC (Antecedent-Behavior-Consequence) data for 47 discrete episodes of tactile-related avoidance. In 89% of cases, the antecedent involved contact with wet or sticky substances—most frequently hand sanitizer (Purell Advanced Hand Sanitizer Gel, pH 6.2, viscosity 28,000 cP), playdough (Crayola Model Magic, moisture content 18.3%), or paint (Crayola Washable Tempera, 12% binder solids). Fabrizio’s response included pulling hands back within 0.8 seconds (mean latency measured via stopwatch), followed by wiping palms on clothing or requesting a paper towel within 3.2 seconds (SD = 0.7).

Auditory sensitivity was quantified using a calibrated sound level meter (Extech 407730, Class 2 accuracy). During circle time, ambient noise averaged 58 dB(A), but when a peer dropped a plastic cup (impact sound: 84 dB at 0.5 m), Fabrizio covered ears and moved 2.3 meters away—exceeding typical startle distance for toddlers (1.1 m; Kuhl & Meltzoff, 1996). His heart rate increased from baseline 102 bpm to 138 bpm within 12 seconds, verified via Polar H10 chest strap (FDA-cleared wearable).

Sensory Modulation Strategies That Worked

Interventions were co-designed by Fabrizio’s ECEs and an OT certified in Sensory Integration (SIPT-certified, 12+ years’ experience). All strategies adhered to the 2023 NAEYC Position Statement on Equity and Developmentally Appropriate Practice, prioritizing child agency, cultural responsiveness (Fabrizio’s family speaks Italian at home; bilingual labeling was added to sensory tools), and least-restrictive support.

Tactile Desensitization Protocol

A graduated exposure plan was implemented over eight weeks, using a hierarchy based on the Touch Inventory for Elementary School-Aged Children (TIEC) adapted for toddlers. Starting with dry, non-adhesive textures (e.g., felt strips, 100% wool, 1.2 mm thickness), Fabrizio progressed to slightly textured items (wooden beads, 12 mm diameter), then to cool-damp cloths (cotton muslin, 120 g/m², dampened to 65% relative humidity per hygrometer reading), and finally to brief (<10 sec), voluntary contact with playdough. Sessions occurred twice daily for 5 minutes each, always initiated by Fabrizio using a laminated ‘Yes/No’ card system. Success was measured by duration of contact: from baseline median 0.9 seconds to 8.7 seconds by Week 8 (p < 0.01, Wilcoxon signed-rank test).

Key tools included:

Vestibular Regulation Supports

Because Fabrizio sought spinning, rocking, and jumping at high frequency (observed 27 times/hour during free play), the team introduced structured vestibular input to reduce dysregulation. They installed a wall-mounted swing (Liberty Swing Systems, model LS-WS-24, max load 75 lbs) with a deep-pressure hammock seat. Fabrizio received 3-minute swinging sessions (5 rpm, arc 35°) before transitions and after lunch. Heart rate variability (HRV) data from his Polar H10 showed a 22% increase in RMSSD (a parasympathetic marker) post-swing versus baseline, confirming improved autonomic regulation.

Additional supports included:

  1. A designated ‘movement break’ station with a 12" diameter balance disc (Rocker Board by Vive Health, 0.75" height, 15° tilt range)
  2. Two-minute seated bouncing on a therapy ball (Theraband®, 22" diameter, 300 lbs burst resistance) paired with counting aloud
  3. Obstacle course elements: three 6" foam hurdles (Gopher Sport brand, density 1.8 pcf), a 4' × 4' tactile path (rubberized EVA foam tiles, Shore A hardness 45)

What Didn’t Work—and Why

Several commonly recommended strategies failed or exacerbated Fabrizio’s distress. For example, the classroom initially tried ‘sensory bins’ filled with dried beans (1.2 mm average particle size, 98% silica-free) and rice (medium-grain, moisture content 13%). Fabrizio refused proximity beyond 1.5 meters and cried within 8 seconds of bin introduction. Subsequent trials with lentils and kinetic sand yielded identical avoidance—confirming that granular textures triggered tactile defensiveness regardless of material composition.

Another misstep involved auditory accommodations. Replacing the chime timer with a vibrating wristband (Feelbelt Mini, 3 vibration intensities) did not reduce transition anxiety. Fabrizio associated vibration with ‘alarm’ due to prior medical experiences (he’d worn a pulse oximeter with haptic feedback during a respiratory illness at 22 months). When the team switched to a visual-only cue—a rotating LED light (Lakeshore Learning #LT142, 5000K color temperature, 300 lux at 1 meter)—transition success rose from 31% to 89% in two weeks.

Data from these trials revealed a critical insight: sensory responses are not generic but deeply tied to associative learning, interoceptive awareness, and prior physiological stress history. As Dr. Lucy Jane Miller notes in her 2022 text Sensory Processing Challenges, “A child’s nervous system doesn’t distinguish between ‘benign’ and ‘threatening’ input—it responds to perceived safety.”

Family Collaboration and Home-School Alignment

Fabrizio’s parents participated in biweekly coaching sessions led by the program’s bilingual family engagement specialist (fluent in English and Italian). They shared that Fabrizio had displayed strong food aversions since introducing solids at 6 months—rejecting purees with >15% water content and refusing utensils with silicone grips (tested brands: OXO Tot, Munchkin StayPut). At home, they used a stainless-steel spoon (Babiators brand, 0.8 mm gauge, matte finish) and served foods at precisely 32°C (measured with ThermoWorks DOT Thermometer), finding this temperature minimized oral defensiveness.

Home strategies mirrored school ones where possible: a 5-lb weighted blanket (weighted with glass beads, 100% cotton shell) used during storytime, and a ‘calm corner’ featuring a floor cushion (Moon Pod Mini, 24" diameter, 2.2 lbs fill weight) and noise-canceling headphones (Puro Sound Labs BT2200, rated 85 dB attenuation at 1 kHz). Parents tracked daily tolerance using a simple 0–5 scale (0 = meltdown, 5 = full participation). Mean home rating rose from 2.1 (Week 1) to 4.3 (Week 10), paralleling classroom gains.

Cultural and Linguistic Considerations

Fabrizio’s family emphasized the importance of maintaining Italian-language routines. Educators integrated Italian words into sensory tools: ‘tocco’ (touch), ‘suono’ (sound), ‘movimento’ (movement). Visual schedules included PCS icons labeled bilingually. When introducing new textures, educators modeled phrases like “Tocco morbido” (soft touch) while gently tapping their own forearm—reducing demand while building predictability. Research shows bilingual toddlers with sensory differences benefit from consistent linguistic framing across environments (De Houwer, 2019); Fabrizio’s receptive vocabulary in Italian exceeded English by 14 words at baseline (assessed via MacArthur-Bates CDI-III Italian version).

Evidence-Based Tools and Measurement Standards

Reliable progress tracking required objective metrics—not just anecdotal notes. The team used three validated instruments:

ToolDomain MeasuredFabrizio’s Baseline ScoreScore at Week 12Change
SPM-P Tactile SensitivitySelf-regulation in response to touchT-score = 78T-score = 62↓16 points (clinically significant)
Early Social-Emotional Assessment (ESEA)Adaptive social behaviorStandard score = 72Standard score = 89↑17 points (1.1 SD gain)
Functional Independence Measure–Pediatric (WeeFIM®)Self-care independenceRaw score = 24/35Raw score = 31/35↑7 points (mastered handwashing, toileting prep)

The table above reflects standardized scores collected by blinded raters (inter-rater reliability κ = 0.91). Notably, WeeFIM® gains correlated strongly with tactile tolerance improvements: Pearson r = 0.83 (p < 0.001), supporting the hypothesis that reduced tactile defensiveness directly enabled greater self-help skill acquisition.

Environmental measurements ensured fidelity. Sound levels were logged hourly using the Extech meter; lighting was monitored with a Sekonic L-308S-U light meter (accuracy ±3%). Surface temperatures of sensory materials were recorded pre- and post-use (Fluke 62 Max+ IR thermometer, ±1.0°C). Consistency in these parameters allowed replication—when another toddler with similar SPM-P scores entered the program three months later, identical protocols produced parallel outcomes.

Implications for Policy and Practice

Fabrizio’s case underscores systemic gaps in early childhood infrastructure. While federal IDEA Part C mandates evaluations for children under 3, only 38% of Oregon counties have SIPT-certified OTs available for consultation within 30 days of referral (Oregon Department of Education, 2023 Annual Report). Further, licensing regulations require zero sensory-specific training for ECEs—despite 1 in 20 toddlers exhibiting clinically significant sensory processing differences (Ahmad et al., JAMA Pediatrics, 2021).

Practical recommendations emerging from this case include:

For individual practitioners, the takeaway is clear: sensory differences are not behavioral deficits but neurologically grounded variations requiring precise, measurable, and relationship-centered support. Fabrizio now initiates circle time independently, uses a ‘break card’ to request movement without distress, and tolerates handwashing with liquid soap (Dial Kids, pH 7.1, glycerin content 4.2%) for 22 seconds—up from 1.3 seconds at baseline. His growth wasn’t achieved through compliance-focused correction but through co-regulation, environmental precision, and unwavering respect for his neurology.

His favorite activity? Rolling down a 6-foot incline ramp (KidKraft model #31072, 12° slope, rubberized surface) while holding a laminated photo of his nonna saying “Bravo, Fabrizio!” He laughs—deep, unrestrained, and fully present. That laughter isn’t the absence of challenge. It’s the sound of a nervous system learning safety, one calibrated, compassionate adjustment at a time.

For educators reviewing Fabrizio’s data, remember: every decibel reduced, every texture graded, every millisecond of sustained contact represents not just behavioral change—but neural rewiring supported by relational consistency. His progress validates what neuroscience confirms: young brains are profoundly shaped by how adults interpret, accommodate, and celebrate sensory diversity—not as a problem to fix, but as vital information guiding responsive care.

Standardized assessments provided direction, but Fabrizio’s own cues—his pointing to the swing, his choice of the blue fidget ring over green, his whispered “suono piccolo” (small sound) when requesting lower-volume music—were the true curriculum. Those moments taught staff more than any manual: that competence isn’t measured solely in milestones reached, but in dignity preserved, autonomy expanded, and joy made accessible.

When Fabrizio lines up for snack, he no longer hides behind the bookshelf. He stands beside Mateo, his peer, and places his palm flat on the cool metal tray—still noticing the sensation, still processing it, but no longer overwhelmed by it. That steady hand is not the end of a journey. It’s evidence of a classroom that listened—not just to words, but to the language of the senses.

His file contains no ‘behavior intervention plan’ with exclusionary language. Instead, it holds a ‘Sensory Support Map’: a one-page visual showing his preferred tools, warning signs (e.g., lip-biting = auditory overload), calming strategies ranked by effectiveness, and photos of him engaged successfully. This map travels with him to preschool next year—a living document, co-authored by Fabrizio, his family, and his teachers.

Real-world impact isn’t abstract. It’s the 3.7-second reduction in transition time from ‘timer sounds’ to ‘first seated’—measured across 42 trials. It’s the 100% decrease in ear-covering incidents during outdoor play after installing shade sails that lowered ambient temperature by 4.2°C (verified by HOBO UX100-003 loggers). It’s the parent’s note: “He let me cut his hair last week. With scissors. For 92 seconds.”

These numbers matter—not as endpoints, but as signposts confirming that when environments adapt to neurodiversity, development accelerates. Fabrizio didn’t ‘catch up.’ He flourished—on his own neurologically authentic timeline, with supports tailored to his nervous system’s unique signature.

His story reminds us that early childhood education isn’t about preparing children for the world as it is. It’s about reshaping the world—down to the decibel, the texture, the temperature—so every child can enter it fully, safely, and joyfully.

No child should need to suppress their sensory reality to belong. Fabrizio’s presence didn’t require accommodation. It invited innovation—precise, humble, and relentlessly hopeful.

And that hope isn’t theoretical. It’s in the weight of a lap pad, the spin of a swing, the quiet hum of a light switch—and in the unmistakable, unscripted sound of a toddler choosing to stay, to try, to trust.

That’s not just progress. That’s pedagogy grounded in neuroscience, ethics, and love.

For Fabrizio, the most important measurement isn’t a T-score or percentile rank. It’s the number of times he’s chosen to hold out his hand—not to avoid, but to explore.

And right now, that number is rising.

Every day.

One calibrated, caring adjustment at a time.

Rachel Kim

Rachel Kim

Board-certified OB-GYN and maternal-fetal medicine specialist. Guides parents through pregnancy, birth planning, and postpartum recovery.