It’s Not a Holiday, It’s a Change of Scenery (or Maybe Just Survival of the Fittest).
Associate of Neurowise, Becky Govan is a Social Worker, Practice Educator, Qualified Wellness Coach and Assistant Lecturer. She is currently completing a PhD on social work support for post adoption with families with a child with FASD. Here she talks about her experiences of the recent holidays.
When I first became a parent 9 years ago, someone told me that holidays would be dramatically different. “It’s not a holiday, it’s a change of scenery” they said. I was shocked to discover the truth in that statement. Taking my boys away was not the restful escape I had imagined, it was bloody hard work! Over the years, this phrase has become a mantra to help manage my expectations. However, since my daughter, who has FASD, joined our family 4 years ago, "holidays" have evolved into something akin to a hardcore reality TV challenge where someone could starve or die by the end. Holidays are now more like survival of the fittest.
This is not a blog about how to make holidays easier. There are excellent resources that offer advice for taking neurodiverse kids on holiday, and I’ve listed some of those at the end. Instead, this is an attempt to lift the layers of shame and disappointment we sometimes pile onto ourselves when holidays don’t go as planned.
The Chaos of Getting There
It always starts with the car journey. My daughter usually enjoys the sensory experience of the moving car, but the pleasure of this wears off after a while. Cue rocking, head-banging, and screaming accompanied by her brothers fighting. Finding the Airbnb becomes a feat of endurance.
I try to avoid service stations. The layout doesn’t work for us: the noise, the crowds, the long waits for food. Instead, we push through the journey or break it up by visiting friends who understand our situation and can offer support. Even so, the trip is tough, but we eventually make it to our destination.
The Accommodation Gauntlet
This was the first holiday where I prepped the accommodation owner in advance, explaining my daughter’s needs and asking them to move anything breakable, edible, or otherwise within reach. While they’d had a go at this, there were still challenges: an open sash window with no key, a mezzanine play area that screamed "danger," and a TV in her room that needed unplugging.
Thankfully, my mum came away with us. I can’t begin to express how much this helped. There’s no way I could have made it work alone. While I frantically tried to make the house safe, she looked after my daughter. We joked that it was like her helping in the night with my newborn twins as she made constant coffee while I surrendered to sleepless nights and unrelenting exhaustion, despite the caffeine!
My daughter woke up at 3 a.m. most mornings, and keeping her occupied while the rest of the house tried to sleep became my daily mission.
The reality of expectations
I tried to do yoga one day and even took my trainers with the idea that I’d go for a run. That didn’t happen. Instead I walked around like a zombie with one grumpy over tired child and two who did not want to do the planned activities so in the end we just stayed at the accommodation eating cake.
Some families have given up on holidays altogether because the disruption to routine is too much. I get that. I’m torn between soldiering on or accepting that reality. I want my boys to experience a change of scenery, and god knows I need one too. Stuff about adoption seems to assume I only have one child to consider and not a whole family of us with different wants and needs. And sometimes balancing their wants and needs and mine feels impossible. I feel like I’ve failed to make anyone happy. I didn’t see the sea on this trip because no one else wanted to go and my basic needs were left seriously unmet.
A Way Forward
For now, day trips seem like the best compromise. They offer a way out if things go wrong and minimise the risk of failure—or feeling like a failure.
We did get some fresh air, went for a walk, and spent time together. We made a few memories, and some of them were good ones and frankly I’ll take that as a win.
SCHOOL HOLIDAY STRATEGIES - NOFASD Australia