The School Pickup Panic: When Your ASD Child Runs and You Can’t Leave the Car (Yes, the Walk-In Wardrobe is Therapy Now)

Welcome to the Chaos (We’ve Got Snacks)
Ah, the school pick-up run. A time that should just be: “Kids in car, home for snacks, done.” But if you're parenting a child with Autism Spectrum Disorder — plus a toddler, plus a baby, plus another school child — the simple after-school dash can turn into something between a hostage negotiation and an Olympic sprint.

Especially when your ASD child refuses to get in the car. And I don’t mean a firm “No thank you.” I mean a full-blown bolt, teachers scrambling, your child screaming for you while you sit helplessly in the car like a potato with a pram and a panic attack.

Why Is This Happening?
Let’s start with this: it’s not your fault, and it’s not hers either. Transitions are tough for neurodivergent kids. After a day of masking, noise, structure, and social expectations, the last thing they want is another change — especially one that means saying goodbye to their “safe space” or changing routines.

Then there’s sensory overload. The school carpark is chaos. Engines, shouting, wheels, bells, chatter, crying babies, parents yelling across cars — it’s a neurodivergent nightmare.

But What Are You Meant to Do When You Can’t Physically Go After Them?
Let’s lay this out:

• You’ve got a baby who can't be left.

• A toddler who would, without hesitation, try to lick a wheel nut if unsupervised.

• Another school child who may or may not be crying because someone called their lunchbox “cringe.”

• And your daughter is running like she’s in the ASD Games of Hide and Seek.

So, what now?

1. Pre-Pickup Preparation: The Tools

Here are a few tried-and-survived tactics that can sometimes help:

• Create a pickup plan together: Before school, talk it through. Maybe even draw it with visuals. “Mum will be in the car. You walk with Teacher X to the car. You hop in. You pick the car song. We go home.” Kids with ASD thrive on predictability. Rehearsal can reduce anxiety.

• Use a sensory transition tool: Bring along a calming object just for pick-up — something special they only get during transitions. A chewy necklace, a weighted lap pad in the car, or even a sensory bottle they can shake the stress into.
  (Sensory Planet pro tip: transition kits are a game-changer and fit neatly in your glovebox!)

• Visual timers or digital countdowns: There are apps that show a countdown with fun visuals — they can help your child see how much time is left until they get to be with you again.

• Social stories: These are short, easy-to-understand stories about what to expect. Even better if your child helps make one. Example title: “Getting Into the Car So Mum Doesn’t Have a Meltdown (A Tale of Bravery).”

2. Rally the Mini-Village (aka The School Staff)
You’re not asking for “special treatment” — you’re asking for inclusion. A great teacher aide or school admin can be part of the pickup plan. If someone can walk your child out with headphones on, a lollipop in hand, and a visual cue ready, you may have a smoother ride.

Yes, your child may still scream. Yes, you may still hear her calling your name like you're being tried in court. But teachers who understand that it’s not about “bad behaviour” but sensory distress will support you without judgment.

3. Ignore the Judgey Mums and the “Helpful” Dads
There will always be that one parent who makes a loud “tsk” sound while holding a KeepCup and zero understanding. Ignore them. If anyone raises an eyebrow while you’re trying to hold together a full-blown emotional evacuation operation from your minivan, remind yourself:

• They don’t know your story.

• You’re not failing.

• You’re surviving — and that’s heroic.

4. Cry in the Walk-In Wardrobe
Honestly? Do it. Make it your safe place. Chuck a few chocolate bars in there, maybe a diffuser and a lock on the door. Cry, breathe, scream into a pillow, then wipe your face with a baby wipe and carry on.

You are not alone in this. The wardrobe understands. The wardrobe holds your secrets. The wardrobe does not judge.

5. Celebrate the Little Wins
If your child walks to the car, celebrate. If they don't run, throw a party in your head. Even if the only thing that goes right is that you remembered to wear pants today, take the win. Parenting neurodivergent kids is not about perfection — it’s about progress and survival.

6. Final Word: You Are Doing Enough
If this is your life right now — messy, loud, lonely, exhausting — please know you are not doing it wrong. You are doing something incredibly hard, without a manual, and you’re still showing up every day.

That, my friend, is strength.
(And if all else fails, hide in the wardrobe. I’ll meet you there with snacks.)

Want more tips like this or need sensory tools for transitions?
👉 Explore our Transition & Travel Collection
👉 Or just come cry with us on Instagram @planet.sensory — we’re all just trying our best.