Have you ever met someone that you feel like you already know? You think and think and then you realize that you don’t know this person but they remind you of someone you do know. Here’s my story…

On my daughter’s soccer team, there is a girl who has a mother named Barbara. Barbabra and I met at the first practice this year and had an easy conversation while watching our younger girls on the jungle gym. She had a voice that I felt like I had heard before and girls with golden curls that reminded me of someone. I tried to figure out if or how we knew each other but kept coming up blank.

Later that evening, I was catching up on a few blogs and I realized who Barbara reminded me of. It was Raehan. The more I thought about it, the more similarities came to mind. They have daughters with the same names. Their daughters have the same curls and extra sweet faces. They have the same style of dress and practice yoga. Most of all, though, it was the voice that got me. Barbara has a voice along with a manner of speaking which so closely resembles Raehan’s that it is incredible.

So every time I see this Barbara I think of Raehan. Which makes me like her more than I probably would normally - or at a faster pace at least. Understand?

Last weekend Barabara, who is pregnant with her 5th child, was at the soccer game with her two year old, Brigitta. (Hello - Sound of Music reference) Brigitta, or Gittie as they call her, had to go potty. When Barbara looked around and realized that the only option was a port-o-potty, she turned a very bright green. She was still dealing with morning sickness and just the thought of going in there made her eyes water and gag reflex fire up. So I offered to take her.

Normally, I would feel awkward about this because I barely know the child and she’s going to need help (like potty help) but I knew Barbara was going to lose her breakfast if she was made to do it. So we walked the long walk to the potty.

I opened the door and Gittie said, “I went poo poo.”
Great. She had already gone potty in her pants.
“It’s okay honey. We’ll fix it.” I said.

The wind was blowing so that none of the toilet paper I kept laying out would stay on the potty seat. Finally I got her up and tried to get the pants off. In order to do this, we had to take off her shoes. She had no socks on. *gag* Bare feet in a port-o-potty? What could I do? I had to get the poo out of her pants. After I flung it out the door (yes, I did) we put the underwear back on. Unfortunately, a bit of poo remnant got on her big toe. So I got some paper to get that off. As I was cleaning off her foot, I glanced up and realized that she was balancing her weight by holding on to the urinal with both hands!!

The girl was soiled from top to bottom by the time I got her back to her mother and I was in need of a Purell hose down. Why am I telling you this? I guess because if it weren’t for Raehan, I would not have made I’ll-take-your-daughter-to-the-port-o-potty friends with this woman.

Bottom line: I think this means that love Raehan enough to get poo all over me.

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