11/09/2026
I’ve just returned from what was possibly the shortest residential trip ever.
What was meant to be four days ended up being about three hours.
On Monday, I headed north with my son for his Primary 7 residential. His experience was always going to look a little different. Although I wasn’t able to accompany him during the activities, I had booked a caravan nearby so that he could take part in the daytime experiences without the pressure of sleeping away from home and I would be on call if he needed a break.
It was always going to be a bit of a long shot.
But as he skipped out of the car to meet his PSA and classmates, he shouted back, “I’m going to have a ball!”
A few hours later, I got the call to collect him.
He had become overwhelmed at dinner after misunderstanding an instruction and being called out by a member of the residential team. The little boy I picked up was a shadow of the one I had dropped off. Completely shut down. Unable to connect. Just sitting staring ahead, with tears silently streaming down his face.
After a night of gentle soothing, he eventually fell asleep, albeit unsettled.
The next morning, he was still struggling, but he was able to piece together what had happened and he was absolutely adamant that he wasn’t going back.
And I knew he couldn’t.
He had reached his limit. The experience had tipped from challenge into distress.
So, instead, we made a new plan. We stayed in the caravan and had our own little holiday. Swimming, crazy golf, parks, walks and exploring the countryside. And slowly, my boy came back.
I’ve thought about this a lot since.
Should I have sent him in the first place?
And this is the dilemma so many parents of neurodivergent children face.
We want to give our children opportunities. We want them to experience challenge, independence, success and all the things their peers are experiencing.
But we also have to consider whether the demands of the experience are within their current capacity to manage and if the supports in place are adequate.
Sometimes we get the balance right.
Sometimes we get it wrong.
Sometimes the supports you think are in place, are not.
And sometimes, despite our best planning, we only find out where that line is by crossing it.