Vacation was absolutely divine
by Karla ° Wednesday, December 21, 2005
To capture those special memories of grandiose splendor, grandeur and greatness we hoped to create while on vacay, we opted to strike our best pose to symbolize all said anticipations.




While I dreamed of sun, fruity girly drinks, gourmet dining and frolicking in our jacuzzi, my husband clearly had his mind on other matters. But, I digress. We can’t always share the same values. The one thing we did share was an amazing holiday of over indulgence, intimacy and romance, and that is exactly what we hoped for.

To all the staff at Secrets Excellence, Mucha Gracias.









Check out those red faces!








Merry Christmas!




Cute until they go for the jewlery.


Baby Jesus was in the manger, and although I had no gold or frankincense to offer, I came bearing a bottle of Budweiser. That's gotta count for something.

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Brrr
by Karla ° Friday, December 9, 2005
Adios Canada. See you in a week.

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Taking flight
by Karla ° Tuesday, December 6, 2005
It’s that time of year again. A time when children mark the days off of their calendars in an earnest and frenzied anticipation of Santa's arrival, and a time when the adult folks swipe plastic and rack up exorbitant bills, all in a jubilant effort to tis the season and be merry and all that jazz.

This year the Cadeau family is doing up Christmas a little different. We’re leaving the country in a few days to visit somewhere where the humidity levels make no mistake in ensuring that we are no longer in the chilly climate that is Canada, and the booze is as free flowing as the steady stream of cars filtering into the mall parking lots in the final Christmas shopping hours.

I almost feel guilty (in a delightful and sinful sort of way), that I am done all of my Christmas shopping, have dropped yet another 12 lbs (amazing what grief can do for your prospects of fitting into a bikini*), have a fierce golden tan, and am ready to temporarily escape winter for a luxurious week in paradise.

Although highly anticipated expectations to visit the Mayan Riviera were literally washed away with the after effects of Hurricane Wilma, we managed to find a destination with equal elegance and charm where we can lavish and enjoy unending white sand beaches, enticing alcoholic beverages served out of coconuts, and bask in the warmth of a soft Caribbean breeze. I’m thrilled that our suite has a Jacuzzi for two and a four post king size bed available for fostering a multitude of fantasies that only a strictly adult resort could offer. There is a plethora of a la carte dining options and a seemingly quiet romanticism and seclusion that allows for me to do nothing but lavish attention on my husband and focus on getting a wicked tan. Stress will be limited to whether or not there is a drink in my hand to compliment the soothing and calming waves crashing upon the shore outside my bedroom window.

I am so lucky that such extravagance and lavishness will consume me in the not so distant future, particularly at a time of year when the spirit of giving and sharing is so important. I completely recognize my good fortune, and feel extremely privileged to be whisked off on a jet plane in a moments notice like this. I know that I am blessed for all of the opportunities in front of me, and whether it’s a bit of luck, some fierce investment savvy, or kick ass negotiating skills, I may never know, but what I do know is that I have the most supportive and caring husband a woman could hope for.

With everything we have been through, he has always been there, whether it’s just to hold me for hours on end, or offer a shoulder to cry on, he is my rock. His support is unending, and as a testament to his unrelenting devotion, he recently expressed much attention and 100% support in my efforts to pursue volunteer interests where I will bring no money, no investment potential and no financial security to the table. He did this with a genuine smile, complete trust, and a fun piggy back ride around the room that left me in a head spinning twirly frenzy while he clearly expressed his happiness and that I have found something to bring purpose and happiness to my heart while we move on after losing Ava. Together, we collaboratively decided on what is important in our life right now, and that just happens to be helping others. Job searches have ceased and endeavors of the heart are flourishing.

It’s been a long nine months since our devasting loss, and finally, life is beginning to take form and purpose again.

*No warranties are being made, express or implied that any weight loss has actually translated into an attractive figure if pictures ever become public knowledge after this holiday. Cesarean section moms can unite and vouch for me on this one. The vile surgery leaves the most despicable and nasty fat “bump” or “ridge” where abdominal muscles were sliced and hacked into while trying to retrieve our offspring out of our tummies. Any attempts to conceal or hide this disfiguration will, I am afraid, be futile.

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Character in Cats
by Karla ° Friday, December 2, 2005
My cats are quite the interesting bunch.

They fight and paw at each other like typical siblings on a mission for rivalry do, but always finish off their tiffs by lovingly cleaning each others behinds. It’s really quite endearing to see how much they take care of each other, and considering they are pushing 40 in human years, I really must applaud their rambunctious and carefree way of life. Despite their obesity, which I take full ownership of because I bride them with treats in exchange for cuddle time, they still love to charge through the house like evil invisible puppies are nipping at their ears and run up and down the stairs in a retarded frenzy like their tails are on fire. Of course, once they realize how goofy they are being, they stop mid rampage, flatten their ears against their head and while standing freakishly still, glare in my direction with wildly buggy eyes as if to lay the blame on me for their wackiness before casually sauntering off for a nap.

Yes, they enjoy life to the fullest and will stop at nothing to delight in the things that bring them pleasure, like scratching the carpet to a horrible shredded mess or shock us with out of the blue acts of foolish courage by taking a giant leap of faith onto a stove with burning elements to satisfy a need to sniff scrambling egg whites.

I used to find their pretentious ways and arrogance quite entertaining until they decided to put it all on full display (literally) and stopped covering their stinky poo with kitty litter. I can’t help but wonder if Ron Popeil’s “set it and forget it” tag line has been lost in translation while my cats eyed him cooking a rotisserie chicken and they understood “shit and forget it”. I knew the media could impression small minded brains, but really, my cats have now succeeded in driving all forms of human existence out of the room when they drop their kitty bombs and leave it on exhibit like that.

Despite their issues and superiority complex, I still treat them like royalty. From the moment they wake up in the morning, a human is there to serve their every needs, from providing delicious treats, fresh water, topping off the kibble bowl and even scooping up their by products left on display after their gallant acts of kibble eating gluttony. Frequent chin scratchings, belly rubs, toe nail clippings, kitty hockey games, cat-o-plane rides and dorky songs they don’t understand the words to add purpose and love to their tiny little cat hearts.

Actually, the thing that I am sure about my cats is that they really couldn’t care less about me. I’m just the human who happens to sit in the bathtub where the fascinating bubbles exist for swatting at, the human who hogs all the cozy blankets they like to sleep on and the human who has the opposable thumbs capable of dispensing their kibble and unlocking the mystery behind the treat bags. Despite their ignorance and inability to understand emotions, at least brains are smart enough to recognize the smell of the chick who keeps their bellies full and the treats free flowing. They’ve been snuggled up on my sweater all day and I can’t help but chuckle at the thought that somewhere, deep inside, an innate desire and connection is being make in their tiny little kitty brains that my sweater, coupled with the tantalizing aroma of yours truly, may perhaps magically translate into the eventuality a tasty kitty treat.




Maybe they are smarter than I give them credit for.
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