I love my body. 43 years old, the true collector of memory. Everything I’ve been through stored inside, marks on the outside. Scars, brown spots, wrinkles, varicose veins, dry heals, hair, a tattoo, looser skin than a decade ago. On the inside old aches meet new aches. Time to get a mammogram. I feel so exposed. My ovaries are swollen and painful, my uterus is complicated. I am glad both babies already had their morning poop so I can sit here longer. I’m tired, maybe the 2 shots of tequila yesterday wore me out. The coffee doesn’t seem to be helping me, it’s just leaving a gross taste on my tongue because I used too much honey. But I’m still drinking it. My mind is foggy this morning just like the sky outside. The babies are having fun playing together. I feel lucky. I need to stretch my body today. Drink lots of water, take a bath and go for a walk. My bodies tired. My back is sore, I was kneeling this morning with Jack, I went to stand up but he was so heavy I fell to the side. It’s like doing dead lifts everyday all day long. My body is getting so strong. I feel the babies are growing restless, they will be wanting my attention soon. I will need to make breakfast and clean the kitchen. I wish this coffee would give me some energy. I used to think If I was super healthy, ate raw foods, no caffeine, kept my body super pure I would feel so much better. I always felt like I needed to change. Now I feel that way of thinking just puts too much un-needed pressure on myself.