The Lady is a Tramp

Last week Craig went out of the country on business. During that time I was a very busy lady. Staying up until all hours of the night. Driving all around town with strange guys and girls in my car. I went to the hanut (a Moroccan convenience store, although it's neither convenient, nor store-ish) in shorts so I could score. Then I got these bruises on my knees...

Ok, I stayed up til all hours of the night writing. The girls and guys? My kids playmates I carted to and fro for play dates. And I went to the fruit stand to score a watermelon. I was in shorts (which women don't wear here) because I was on my way to my friends house to work out and her house is conveniently located by the fruit stands. Then at the workout I did girl push ups on a marble floor in shorts. Thus, two bruised knees.

On Sunday we said goodbye to our friends who are moving from Rabat to the states. They also have 4 kids and went on our camel trek through the Sahara Desert with us. I can't tell you how much we'll miss them. But, even though we're all sad, our kids were still contradictorily excited. Why would they be excited that their friends are leaving? Because they were selling their trampoline. And guess who bought it? Yup. Us.

Our kids miss our yard in Colorado. Our house backs up to a hill of open space full of wild life. Some a little too wild for me. Like rattle snakes and mountain lions, but it comes with the territory. Literally. The kids loved to explore the hill side, collect rocks, climb trees, go down our zip line all while avoiding getting devoured by predators. They had the ultimate freedom there. The freedom to roam. Unfortunately, at 16 they'll probably experience the next to ultimate freedom the freedom of the road. I can't tell you how I'm dreading that one. Only 3 and a half more years. Gulp.

The thing that we don't have in Colorado? A flat spot big enough for a trampoline. And even if we did, my husband, who is Pediatrician, has always been anti-trampoline because of the amount of injuries they cause per year. Apparently, mountain lions, rattle snakes, tree climbing and zip lining aren't statistically as dangerous. Living in Morocco you will do things that you just won't do in the states. You just will. So, we now have a trampoline. It's been passed down from family to family because you can't buy a trampoline on the econonmy here. So some one shipped it from the states a good long time ago. So it's not one of those new fangled ones with the covered springs and the net enclosure that makes it appear as if your child is safer. NO. This is the 1970s kinda trampoline o' danger that I have always wanted and never had. Until now. Yeeeeeeesssssss!

And the kids think I got it for them...




Let me just say, we would much rather have our friends not move than have their trampoline if I haven't said that already. The weird thing about June here in the Embassy circle in Morocco is, if you're not moving to the states or some other far off land, you are vacationing to the states or some far off land. So there is a mass exodus of Americans from Morocco. This accounts for the summer departure of Sara, my workout queen, Chris my yoga guy and coincidentally belly dance will also go on hiatus soon before Ramadan starts. So what's a girl to do?



Jump! Might as well, jump! (Just don't pee yourself.)

At least my kids still think I got the tramp for them. I'm going to get a leg up workin' on my fitness and I shouldn't have bruises on my knees anymore. Now if I could only get those darn kids off the thing. Maybe I'll bribe them with candy.

And this my friends is why the lady is a tramp.