Author: Emily Gonzalez

Tapping back in

Hey there, remember me?  I used to write for this blog?  The last post I worked on but never managed to finish was titled, “How do I do it? I don’t.”  It was going to be about the fact that people always look at me – sweaty, scattered, overwhelmed – and sympathetically declare, “I don’t know how you do it.”  And how I kind of smile and shrug but my internal response is to tell them how I’m not actually doing “it” and then spout off a list of the dozens of balls I’m dropping all at once.  But...

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A Day in the Life of a Working Mother: Emily

5:30 am: First alarm. 5:35: Second alarm. 5:40: Third alarm.  My phone flashes a message I programmed: GET UP YOU ARE RUNNING LATE.  I roll over and enjoy the warmth of my three-year-old for ten more seconds.  She’s been in bed with me for a week, as little sister’s transition to their shared room hasn’t been great.  Our months-long game of musical bedrooms continues. 5:52 am: After sufficient procrastination, I jump in the shower.  I decide I’ll be super quick to make up for the lost time, but once I’m in there I never want to leave.  I slap on...

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Hair Chronicles

I was born in the early 80’s, which was a very unfortunate time to be a person with flat hair.  I wanted a perm SO BAD, and my parents’ refusal to get me one was probably one of their best parenting decisions ever.  So I went through tons of hair spray, slept regularly in foam rollers, and burnt the hell out of my hair (and myself) with a crimping iron.  My mom still says that her great failure as a mother was her inability to french braid.  I won’t exactly say this scarred me for life (maybe my therapist...

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Giving up on the old me

Last weekend, I cleaned out my closet.  I am a person who definitely revels in getting rid of things, and at the end of a purge like that one, there is usually a nice empty spot left over.  Not this time.  At 13 months postpartum, I have two wardrobes now – one for me and one for my body.  Shoved into the corners are all those clothes that I used to wear.  All my faves that are associated with fun, old-timey memories when I was cute and young and didn’t mind hand washing or dry cleaning.  Front and center...

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The day my PPD came full circle

Upstairs in my bedroom behind the always-open closet door sits one of my prized possessions.  It is an art print on canvas of a mother nursing a baby.  This thing has been through a lot – I would venture to call it “weathered.”  Over-stretched, it looks like a pair of wrinkled khakis under the glass.  There is a large water stain at the bottom that suggests it survived a flood.  Still, the print is stunning, and subject is something very near and dear to my heart. But that’s not the whole reason that this thing is so special to...

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