Squishies, Fidgets and the Great Sensory Toy Takeover: Are they therapeutic tools, or have we just found another thing for our children to collect?

Hello and Welcome Back to The Therapist Diaries,

I have a confession.

As a therapist, I have a slightly complicated relationship with squishies. On the one hand, I love them. On the other hand, I am increasingly convinced that we have collectively lost the plot because somewhere between the first humble fidget spinner and today's shelves groaning under the weight of NeeDohs, Pop-Its, squishy animals, stretchy things, clicky things, magnetic things and approximately 4,000 varieties of brightly coloured silicone, something happened.

A therapeutic tool became a toy trend.

And honestly? I'm not sure children are the only ones who need help regulating.

Some of us adults could probably use a squishy after walking into Smyths and discovering that the thing our child absolutely cannot live without costs £11.99 and comes in seven colours and our children need every single colour… for every different emotion. 

What are fidgets actually for?

Fidgets aren't new. The idea that movement, touch and sensory input can help some children regulate themselves, manage their attention or cope with overwhelming environments has been around for a long time. Occupational therapists, psychologists, teachers and other professionals have used sensory strategies with children who have different sensory needs for decades, including some autistic children and children with ADHD. And for some children, they can be genuinely useful.

A child who is overwhelmed by the noise of a classroom might find something repetitive and predictable to do with their hands calming. A child whose body is buzzing with nervous energy might find squeezing something helpful. A child who constantly picks at their skin might find having something else to manipulate gives their hands another option. A child who stims might find a fidget gives them a safe, portable way of getting some of the sensory input their body is looking for.

The fidget isn’t doing anything, but the function of the fidget is, and in my opinion that’s the piece that we’re currently missing.

In recent years, probably after COVID, but definitely in the last 2-3 years, we have started treating fidgets as though they are universally good for children.

Can't concentrate? Fidget.

Anxious? Fidget.

Bored? Fidget.

Waiting at the doctor's? Fidget.

Finished your homework? Here's another fidget.

Had a good day at school? Pick a fidget.

It's Tuesday? Apparently you need a fidget.

But a sensory tool isn't automatically helpful just because it's labelled “sensory”.

If a child is supposed to be listening to their teacher while simultaneously watching a glitter-filled spinner go round and round, we probably need to ask ourselves whether we're actually helping. There is research looking at fidgets and attention, but the findings are mixed. Some studies have found no meaningful academic benefit from particular fidget devices, and some have even found that certain fidgets can become distracting.

Which makes perfect sense if you think about it.

A child who is concentrating on the maths lesson while quietly squeezing something in their hand is having a very different experience from a child who is wondering whether their fidget looks cooler than their friend's.

One is regulation.

The other is competitive fidgeting.

And yes, apparently that is now a thing.

So are they actually helpful?

Fidgets became popular tools for helping children with Autism and ADHD, so let’s look at that first.

Children living with Autism and/or ADHD can experience sensory information differently. Some are extremely sensitive to sounds, textures, lights, smells or movement. Others actively seek particular sensory experiences because they help them feel organised, calm or alert. And some children do both. A sensory tool can sometimes give a child something predictable when everything else around them feels like far too much.

Imagine a classroom. Someone is scraping a chair. Someone else is tapping their pencil. The lights are buzzing. The teacher is talking. There's a child coughing behind them. Someone is whispering. The clock is ticking. And your brain is taking in all of it. Now imagine having something familiar in your hand that you can squeeze, roll or manipulate. It doesn't magically make the classroom quiet.

But it might give your nervous system one predictable thing to focus on. That's very different from giving a child a squishy because “all the other kids have one.”

Then we move on to stimming.  Stimming is a type of restricted and repetitive behaviour, it can be conscious and subconcious.  They’re a sort of protective responses to sensory or emotional overload, and to some degree we all do them- but stimming is especially intense and frequent in those with neurodevelopmental conditions. Stimming isn’t a problem, it’s a useful way of regulating, communicating or simply experiencing the world.

In my opinion, and that’s all this blog post is, my opinion, as someone who works with children, is that we shouldn't be handing a stimming child a fidget and saying, “Please stop doing that thing with your hands.” I’m sorry, I don’t care if it’s a behaviour that bothers you but if a child is happily rocking, humming, tapping or moving their hands and nobody is being harmed, we don't need to intervene.

There is of course a line, and that line is- “but what if the behaviour is causing harm?” What if this child is scratching themselves until they bleed? Biting their fingers? Picking their skin? Well then, that’s where a sensory tool may become useful! If the conversation is: “How can we help your body get what it needs without hurting you?” Then the fidget gets an approval from me.

But even with that, I feel a responsibility to go further, because something else I think too many of us are skipping over these days is that, a fidget can be a very helpful tool… it isn’t a magical treatment. Just like a calculator does not negate the need for children to learn basic arithmetic in school, a squishy isn’t a treatment for skin picking (or other concern). So once again I feel the need to tell parents frequently that if your child is stimming, please don't think you need to rush out and buy the biggest, squishiest NeeDoh available, and if you do want to provide them with a fidget, then think about HOW and WHY it’s going to help them.

For example, if we notice that a child tends to pick while watching television, doing homework or sitting in the car, we might introduce a fidget as something for their hands to do instead.

But we (as the adult in their life) are also responsible for looking at the whole pattern and working with their treatment team (GP/ Teachers/ Therapists etc.) to come up with a helpful and long term intervention and support plan. What do I mean by the whole pattern? You should be asking:

When does the picking happen? What is the child feeling? What sensation are they seeking? Are they bored? Anxious? Overwhelmed? Tired? Is there a particular texture they're drawn to? What happens immediately before the picking? A squishy might help support a healthier behaviour while you’re investigating and treating to root cause, but please don’t let TikTok make you believe than handing out a squishy will change behaviours forever with no additional support and work.

When is a Squsishy not helpful?

I may have used an incorrect subtitle for this section because look, I’m not the fidget police. If your child enjoys playing with a squishy stick of butter then who am I to rain on their parade. However, from a clinician perspective, this is where I feel we are today… and I’m calling it SQUISHY COLLECTOR ZONE.

This is where, as a parent, I suspect you may be nodding along because suddenly we're not buying a sensory tool. We're buying the collection.

“We've already got that one.”

“But this one's different.”

“It's the rare one.”

“No, Mum, that's a FAKE ONE.”

“It's £9.99.”

“I KNOW.”

“And what exactly does the £9.99 one do that the £2 one doesn't?”

“IT'S A REAL ONE.”

“Right. Of course. My mistake.” … proceeds to buy £9.99 one.

I completely understand why this happens. Children today are no different from children 50 years ago in the sense that they love to collect things, they love novelty, they love having something their friends don't have, they love limited editions, they love the feeling of finding the special one, they love trading, and they love being the one to set the trend- and hate being the one left out.

That's childhood.

I'm not suggesting we take all the fun out of it.

But we do need to notice when a therapeutic tool has quietly become another consumer trend. because if we're not careful, we end up in a slightly ridiculous situation where a child who originally needed something to help regulate their hands now has 36 of them, and is still dysregulated because the 37th one hasn't been released yet. Or we end up with a class of 35 students who all need special accommodations in the classroom to allow a squishy cube to be on their desk, and not enough funding or staff support to meet the requirements of individualised learning plans for that many students at once.

“But Georgina, they love them!” I hear you saying.

Yes and that's fine. Like I said, I’m not the squishy police, your children are allowed to love whatever they like. A child is allowed to enjoy a squishy simply because it's satisfying to squish. A child is allowed to collect Pop-Its. A child is allowed to want the sparkly one. A child is allowed to spend their pocket money on something completely unnecessary. Not everything has to be therapeutic. But this is actually an important distinction. If it's a toy, let it be a toy (personal toys from home shouldn't be anywhere near school classrooms) and if it's a regulation tool, let's teach the child how to use it as one. It can absolutely be both, but we shouldn't tell ourselves that every toy our child likes is now an essential therapeutic intervention. Imagine if it was something bigger… let's say a Hot Wheels Car. If your child came home one day and said they have to take a hot wheel's car to school every day because they don’t understand the spelling test without it…, would you cave as easily as you do with the fidgets? I don't want to call you out... but I'm going to assume the answer would be.. no! 

So, if we want to use them as therapeutic tools, how do we do that?

Keep it simple. Start by noticing your child. Ask: “What is this helping with?”

Is it helping them keep their hands busy? Helping them calm down? Helping them tolerate waiting? Helping them avoid picking? Helping them cope with sensory overload? Helping them stay in their seat? Or are they simply enjoying it? All of those answers are okay.

 Then introduce the item when they're calm and don’t buy it as a treat or a birthday gift. Explain it like any other tool (calculator, pencil) “this is something to help you when you feel…”

Practice using the tool at a calm time. Show them what it does. Let them experiment. “Does squeezing this feel nice?” “Does it help when your hands feel busy?” “Would you like to try this when you're feeling cross?” We're teaching them to notice their own bodies. Talk about what happens afterwards This is the bit that often gets missed.

Children are not stupid, they're resilient and always learning. After they've used it, ask them: Did that help? Did your body feel calmer? Were your hands less busy? Was it easier to listen? Did you still feel overwhelmed? Did the fidget actually make you more distracted?

Get to know your child on an emotional level. 

Go in with the belief that EVERY behaviour is a communication. What are they saying but not saying?

Schools have got a role in this too

I don't want this post to turn into “schools are giving children too many fidgets”, because I don't think that's accurate. Actually, I think there's something really positive about schools making sensory tools available. If every child can access a fidget, a child who genuinely needs one doesn't have to stand up in front of their classmates and announce: “I'm autistic and I need the special sensory toy.” That's a good thing. Children shouldn't have to publicly justify their support needs but there's a difference between access and unlimited use without purpose.

A school might reasonably say: “You can use a fidget during independent work.” Or: “You can take one when you're feeling overwhelmed.” Or: “If you need sensory input, here's a basket of options.”

That's very different from every child having a fidget on their desk all day regardless of whether it's helping them. Teachers have to teach and if twenty-five children are clicking, spinning, squeezing, popping and launching tiny silicone animals across the classroom, we're probably no longer talking about sensory regulation. We’re talking about teacher dysregulation!

We also need to protect the children who really need them

This is the slightly uncomfortable bit. Resources are finite. Schools have finite budgets. Teachers have finite attention. Special educational needs teams have finite time. If a sensory tool is genuinely helping one child remain in the classroom, manage overwhelming sensory input or prevent them from hurting themselves, that matters. So does teaching children that support isn't the same thing as a prize and sometimes all we have in the world is self regulation. Universal access can be wonderful but universal access shouldn't mean pretending that everyone has the same need. The child who quietly squeezes a fidget under the table so they can cope with a noisy classroom may have a very different reason for using it from the child who wants to see whether they can make theirs fly across the room. We can be kind to both children without pretending the situations are identical.

Parents, you don't have to keep up. This is probably the biggest thing I want parents to take away from all of this. You don't have to buy the latest one. You don't have to own every colour. You don't need to know the difference between the genuine NeeDoh and the suspiciously convincing one from the market. You don't need a sensory drawer that looks like the toy aisle at Christmas, and you definitely don't need to feel guilty because your child doesn't own the “special” one their friend brought into school.

If your child has a fidget that works for them? Brilliant. Keep it somewhere they can access it.

Teach them what it's for. Help them notice when they need it. And then leave it alone and make it as mundane as it can be.

If they want another one because they think it's adorable? Fine. Call it a toy. If they want another one because their body genuinely needs a different type of sensory input? Let's talk about that, remember he distinction matters.

The goal isn't to raise a child who owns excellent fidgets.  The goal isn't for our children to become experts in sensory toys. Emotional regulation is about helping children understand their bodies and their emotions. It doesn’t look like: "I have the right squishy, therefore I can regulate.” It looks like a child who says,: “I know what my body feels like when I'm becoming overwhelmed, I know what helps me, I can ask for what I need.”

Maybe their choice is a squishy. Maybe it's movement. Maybe it's headphones. Maybe it's a quiet space. Maybe it's drawing. Maybe it's deep pressure. Maybe it's talking to someone. Maybe it's a walk around the garden. Maybe it's doing absolutely nothing for five minutes.

The squishy was never supposed to be the therapy. It was supposed to be a tool.

The most useful thing we can teach our children is not how to collect the tools, but how to recognise when they need one.

Until next time- be kind to your mind.

—The Therapist Diaries

For more information on our emotional regulation & behavioral support programmes please visit our website: Voyager Therapy