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Finalist in Columbia Journalism's School 2026 Radio Race. Translated from Swedish to English: My baby has learned to babble. It's so damn cute. 2-year-old: You’re supposed to bite like a crocodile! We have breakfast. And put on clothes. I pack the diaper bag. I'm headed to the gym. My body is different now. Now that I've given birth to two children. I have to go to mamafit-classes. The trainer says our bodies start to deteriorate when we turn 30. I'm about to turn forty. The sky is clear blue and the sun is shining. Life really comes back in this city when the sun shines in March. Everything that is ugly becomes beautiful. The tower cranes at Slussen gleam in the sunlight. The Katarina Elevator looks small in comparison. Almost everyone at the gym is retired. And then there's us. The moms with our babies. We who are trying to wake up those inner abdominal muscles that apparently are still in there. It's just the neural connections that are missing, says the trainer. Outside the gym my dad is waiting, leaning against a tree. We’re meeting up to choose a picture for my mother’s casket today. She died two weeks ago. My dad looks younger than he is. He is retired too, like the people at the gym. My baby is not retired. She is brand new. Then we buy milk. And I forget to pay for the diapers. Tomorrow is Wednesday. Then it will be two weeks until my mother's funeral.