
Thoughts While Running : Core Memories
By katherine douglas
We went out for a family breakfast one saturday morning at Stable Cafe, the cutest coffee shop/cafe down the street from our house. The food is good and they have the most adorable outside garden area - perfect for reading a book, enjoying a coffee, or policing a feral 3 year old. The building itself used to be an old stable (thus the name), back when our neighborhood was considered the country and people needed a place to house their horses instead of charging stations. Inside there’s a lofted area where you can also sit + eat, with a steep set of stairs for access that are absolute catnip for a toddler and *just* steep enough to raise the stress levels of any parent of a toddler that loves stairs.

We prefer to eat outside because outdoor spaces in SF are a rarity (despite the weather being fairly mild all year round) and the aforementioned stair situation. That said, we always let Dougie go up + down the stairs for a bit to get it out of his system after we eat, before the walk home. There’s also a window in the loft where he can look out over the garden + wave down to me while Dad stands guard so sometimes I also get a few (emphasis on ‘few’) precious moments of quiet to finish my latte.
It’s been a tough couple of weeks since daylight savings, Hawaii + the transition to a toddler bed all occurred in rapid succession. Nothing throws everything sideways like a time change, schedule change and the sweet taste of freedom of being able to get in + out of bed all by yourself. Apparently that taste of freedom is greater than the need to sleep because since we got back we haven’t been getting a whole lot of the latter. Apologies to anyone I sold the idea of 3 being the best age to. Yes, they’re sweet but also jeezus.
Dougie’s in his mean girl phase, which he only unleashes on his dad, and if I’m being totally honest I’m relieved to not be on the receiving end of his burn book insults. Three year olds can be vicious; they know exactly the right thing to say that goes straight for the jugular. ‘You’re not my pizza buddy’ is the ultimate insult right now. The switch from sweet, cuddly angel to threenager mostly occurs without warning, and is aggravated by things like time changes, schedule changes, and the lack of sleep that occurs from getting in + out of bed thirty times a night.
I had a friend text me the other day for some mom advice. She’s the creator of an extremely popular yoga tight for an extremely popular Canadian brand; one that has inspired many, many dupes since its inception (I’ll let you connect your own dots). It’s approaching its 10 year anniversary + she’s been invited to join the celebration tour but the caveat is that in doing so, she’ll miss her daughter’s birthday. I encouraged her to go, talking up the positives of celebrating when she gets back (bonus birthdays are the BEST) but the truth is it sucks either way, because for a mom (or parent in general perhaps) missing milestones are the absolute worst, even if they happen every year.
Since I’ve been at the store working borderline insane hours I’ve become hyper aware of all the things I’m missing as a result. The weekends are sacred; the only uninterrupted time our family has together and yet I’m mostly absent as I spend the majority of our waking hours working. I at least get holidays since the store closes, however Easter is next week and because I’ll be in Boston for our pop up, I’ll be missing out. I was hoping I could travel with family in tow, but the idea of flying 6 hours cross country so I can work while my husband solo parents, dealing with a time change, routine shift and the mean girl antics of a threenager who’s mood changes faster than the weather wasn’t one I was able to sell. Instead I’ll be traveling alone + luxuriating in a king sized bed that is freshly made each morning. Could be worse but the mom guilt of not being home to fill the easter basket + hide the eggs is very real + very heavy.
When I was laid off two years ago, we dropped Dougie down to part time day care + I assumed my new job as part time stay at home mom. We figured since I wasn’t working it’d be smart to save a little bit of money but also I thought it’d be nice to have some alone time with him, aware of how little time I’d have when I re-entered the working world as a business owner. He was so little at the time and while his memory is scary good, I don’t know what, if anything he’ll retain from our time together. What I do know is he absolutely loves to go for runs in the stroller, something I did with him most Monday + Friday mornings when he was home with me.
While he was playing on the stairs of doom, he ran up into the loft area (which was luckily empty) and called out to me as I watched from below ‘welcome to my store Mama! would you like to buy some shoes?’ He also loves to come along for run club, which he missed today to instead spend the morning at the park with friends ‘sorry i can’t come to your run club Mama, maybe next week?’ and when he is at the store, he’ll often run upstairs to grab whatever shoe box is within his reach to bring down + offer up to whomever happens to be trying on shoes while he’s there. ‘Helping the customers’ is one of his favorite activities (apologies in advance if you’re at the store + a three year old waits on you…he’s cute but will definitely bring you what you didn’t ask for).
So while I might be missing out on creating core memories like going to the park on a Sunday morning, I’m still creating core memories for him of hanging out at the store and hopefully one day traveling to Boston for Mama’s pop up. Or maybe there’ll be another pop up in another city. Rome for a month? Paris for the marathon?
The shift for me, and one I encouraged my friend to adopt as well, is to focus on the things I am here for vs. the things that I’m not. I might be missing Easter this year, but we’ll do a ‘bonus’ Easter the following weekend. I’m there for couch cuddles every morning and an expert builder of train tracks. I’m there for story time at night + bedtime cuddles with the Yoto player. I have core memories of my mom tucking us into bed each night and also of helping her get her classroom ready every August and I hold them equally. Hopefully Dougie will have + do the same.
*k