I never thought we’d do this…

Next week, we’re taking our boys out of school and going on a family holiday. Abroad. On a plane. For the first time ever.

Not during half-term. Not during the summer holidays. Because that’s simply not an option for our family.

And yes, we’ll probably be fined. And yes, from the outside it might look like “just a holiday”.

But here’s what people don’t see.

They don’t see the weeks of planning.

The military-level prep.

The deep dive into flight times, airport layouts, Spanish school holidays, noise levels, food options, and what sensory triggers we can’t plan for (but are trying to anyway).

They don’t see the anxiety we’re holding underneath the excitement.

The fear of public meltdowns.

The very real risk of one of the boys running off if it all gets too much.

The delicate balance we’re trying to hold between one child who needs structure, and the other who needs flexibility.

They don’t see the social stories I’ve made, the airport assistance we’ve booked, the effort to find somewhere that echoes the holidays they’ve managed to tolerate here in the UK.

They just see term-time travel and make assumptions.

But we know what we’re doing – and more importantly, why we’re doing it.

Because our children want to try. And so do we.

Because they deserve access to the same life experiences as their peers – just in a way that actually works for them. That respects their neurology, their limits, their needs.

Because it’s been years since we went abroad. And it’s time.

We’re holding excitement and apprehension at the same time.

We’re managing our own dysregulation so we can support theirs.

We’re hoping, somewhere in all of this, we might just get a few moments that feel like a holiday for us too.

And honestly? I feel grateful we’ve made it this far. That we’ve reached a point where this is even possible.

If you’ve ever made impossible things happen for your children with the world watching and misunderstanding, just know you’re not alone.

We’re doing the brave thing. The hard thing. The hopeful thing.

Not because it’s easy.

Because our kids are worth it.