The Sopranos – diaper bag edition.


Did you know I am part of the Mafia?  The International Mothers Mafia.  That’s what my little gang of moms and babes is known as, on Facebook at least.

This group is largely responsible for my sanity.  Finally finding great friends makes me forget the years it took me to connect with a social life here in Algeciras. (Unfortunately, none of them live here.)  Outings with friends, both big and little, are such a relief from our depressing days in the empty playground.

These women are all feisty, fun and honest about their own challenges as foreign moms in Spain.  They all have kids Yago’s age.  In our little group we represent at least five nationalities,  several languages and a wide range of crazy life stories.

So, I was pretty excited when I suggested a picnic in the “campo”  and a whole convoy of car seats turned up.

We did what you are supposed to do in the campo.  We ate.  And we talked.

Yago is no fool.  He can usually be found circling Agnes.  She always bring the best snacks.

Some of the kids have a more discerning palette.  Who needs cookies when there is dirt to lick.

Hannah even got up early to make a banana loaf and we had enough rice cakes to fill a station wagon.

We only had one problem.  I made the coffee.  Or the brown-colored warm water, which would be a more apt description.  I obviously added half a teaspoon of coffee, ran off after a kid, then returned with two litres of water.  I guess I don’t have that morning routine dialed quite yet.

I hope the Mafia Godmothers let me live to brew another pot.

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