Muffin Fiasco In Sedona: Mom Travel Diaries

I debated whether or not to write this particular blog. It’s kind of embarrassing, but yet it’s very real and I’m sure families all across America have had situations like ours, even if the details are different. This blog, my friends, is all about poop. Sorry, no other why to describe it.

My children always find a way to make all vacations hectic, chaotic or challenging in some sort of way. I’m not mad or bitter. It’s just what happens and I’ve grown to not only accept it, but to expect it. However, this particular vacation that went awry shall be laid solely at my husband’s feet. I’m sure he will disagree. So dear hubby, as I always say, get your own blog and plead your case!

It all started with a back to school doctor visit for my children. The pediatrician always asks how they’re sleeping, how much exercise they get. Do they go potty on the regular? She decided by their answers to the last question that they could use more fiber in their diets. She gave me a list of recommendations of what to feed them in order to get things moving, if you catch my drift.

I reported these findings to my husband the night before we were set to leave on a weekend trip to Sedona. The next morning, he wakes up and says he’s making some special muffins for the kids that will be full of fiber and taste great too! I responded with: “This will NOT bode well for us. I guarantee it. They will be pooping all weekend! I think we should wait until we get back.”

But noooo…”They’ll be fine!” he said. “I just put a little oatmeal and apples in the muffins…not enough to wreck them!” he assured me.

My response continued to be full of dire warnings and disastrous consequences that would await us with this fateful decision. I know my children and their body workings all too well.

“Please, don’t do this!” I pleaded.

But alas. He did not listen and gave them the muffins. I knew what the future held. But oh, it would turn out even worse than I imagined.

We left for our trip to Sedona and arrived in the early afternoon, leaving us plenty of time to explore. As we drove around and did our hikes, everyone seemed fine. However, I was just waiting for the bomb to drop. The boo boo bomb.

We get back to the hotel and one of my children (who shall remain nameless and ageless but you will probably be able to guess who) had to go the bathroom. For a long time. He comes out and everything seemed ok. Yet, a lingering smell remained that would not go away. After a while, my husband went into the bathroom and screamed in horror. The bathroom looked like a crime scene. But there was no blood.

The rest of the family recoiled in fear and disgust as we went to investigate.

I don’t even know what this kid did in there or how the hotel bathroom became this god awful disaster zone. And this unnamed child gave no hints as to how this occurred either. No explanations. Just a blank face and “I don’t knows.” I mean, the hows and the whys will be taken to the grave with this kid.

I know this sounds wrong, but oh was I glad my husband discovered this bathroom scene first. We have this rule since the kids were babies that if you smell it (or discover it), you deal with it. It made things a little more fair. I also thought that since my warnings of the “Boo Boo Muffins” went unheeded, it was more appropriate that my husband be the one to deal with the resulting situation.

Being the supportive wife, I did check on the hubby to make sure he was ok during the clean up.

Unfortunately, I was not completely off the hook. I soon discovered that the same unnamed child was not unscathed and required a massive hosing down of his own. So instead of going out to explore more mountains and trails and lakes, I was on bath duty.

Unnamed child continued to make more muffin inspired bathroom runs throughout the weekend, though with less fanfare thankfully. Soon another child joined in the bathroom fun. It just seemed never-ending. It didn’t help that they continued to devour the muffins during our trip, against my advice. Does anyone listen to me in this family?!?

I really tried to be subtle in reminding my husband that this was really all his fault.

I just wanted some recognition that I am wise and was totally right about this situation. Why does he continue to doubt me?

We still managed to put together an enjoyable weekend in between bathroom visits. However, within 15 minutes of getting in the car to drive back home, the muffin side effects appeared again and one of the kids needed to get to a bathroom immediately. By now, I’m thinking these muffins are worthy enough to be sold on the market as laxatives.

I once again gave my husband “the look” as he grumbled about having to stop at a public restroom.

Days later, my husband STILL wouldn’t fully admit it was his “Boo Boo Muffins” that caused this weekend disaster (that lasted yet another day after we returned home). Sure, two out of three children just happened to get the runs after eating muffins with oatmeal and apples. It happens all the time!

Now he has conceded a little and says the children obviously can’t handle fiber properly so they just need to get used to it. Of course. But maybe next time not doing it before we go away for a weekend trip and an extended car ride would be great. Just sayin’.

I know dear dad meant well and never intended on any of this happening. It actually turned out to be quite funny once the ordeal was over. Yet, I hope an important lesson has been learned from this. Listen to your wife. And traveling with kids will always be a disaster. Always.