The Short-Trip Test Drive Why We Never Book a Full Week for a New AuDHD Experience
It’s an almost universal truth for parents of AuDHD (Autistic/ADHD) children: Planning a trip can feel like a high-stakes gamble.
You spend hours researching, budgeting, and building up the excitement, only to arrive and have your child declare, “I hate the sound of that fan,” or, “The floor by the pool is hurting my feet!” sending the entire carefully constructed itinerary into a meltdown spiral.
I’ve been there too many times. I’ve committed to a seven-day, non-refundable experience only to realize on Day 2 that the environment was a complete sensory mismatch for my kid. We ended up spending half the trip hiding in the hotel room, watching movies on a loop. It was a huge financial hit and a complete emotional drain.
That’s why I developed a strategy I call the “Short-Trip Test Drive.”
The Philosophy: Minimize the Risk, Maximize the Learning
The premise is simple: When introducing a completely new environment, experience, or mode of travel, you book the shortest, most affordable version possible.
You are not booking the dream vacation yet. You are booking a paid research session.
The goal of the test drive is not to have a perfect, relaxing getaway. The goal is to gather data. You need to know the answers to questions like:
Sensory: Is the noise level tolerable? Are the smells (pool chlorine, food courts, sunscreen) overwhelming? Is the lighting too bright?
Routine: Does the new schedule (or lack of one) trigger anxiety? Is the transition time between activities too long or too frequent?
Interest: Does the novelty wear off quickly? Is there enough opportunity for safe, quiet stimming?
If the experience is a huge success, fantastic! You’ve found your next great destination. If it fails spectacularly, you minimize your losses.
Case Study: The Three-Night Cruise Experiment
For a long time, my son has been fascinated by the idea of a cruise. He sees the huge ships and the slides and asks to go, but as an AuDHD kid, a cruise ship is a sensory battlefield. It’s loud, crowded, smells of endless buffets, and there’s nowhere to easily escape the motion or the constant hum of the engine.
Committing to a full seven-day Caribbean cruise felt like signing up for an emotional and financial disaster.
Instead, we are doing a 3-night Royal Caribbean cruise at the end of the month.
Here is the math behind that decision:
Cost Mitigation: I found a great deal on a quick weekend sailing. If we spend the entire time in the cabin watching movies because the ship is too much, it stings a lot less than wasting a four-figure, week-long trip.
End Date Certainty: Three nights is manageable. Even if he is miserable on Day 1, he can clearly see the calendar and know that he only has two more sleeps until we are home, which massively reduces transition anxiety.
Maximum Learning: If he loves it, we’ll know exactly which cabin location to book (mid-ship for less rocking?), which activities to avoid (the main pool deck at 2 PM?), and what to pack more of (noise-canceling ear defenders, weighted blanket).
We’re going into this with zero expectations of perfection. If he spends 90% of the time in the quiet safety of the cabin, that’s okay. We will have learned that a cruise is not our family’s vacation style, and we will have done it without the crushing disappointment and expense of a full-length trip.
Your Next Test Drive
If you’re considering a big new experience—Disney, a camping trip, an all-inclusive resort, or even a long flight—don’t book the full package yet.
Find the shortest possible version first:
Instead of: A 7-day Disney trip.
Try: A single-day ticket to a local theme park that shares similar sensory input (crowds, loud music, rides).
Instead of: A week-long national park camping trip.
Try: A single night of “backyard camping” or one night at a state park 30 minutes from home.
Instead of: A transatlantic flight.
Try: A 90-minute flight to a nearby state or city just to test the logistics of TSA, boarding, and the tight space.
The Short-Trip Test Drive is your permission to be smart, not sorry. It’s about respecting your child’s needs and safeguarding your family’s vacation budget and sanity.
