The Ridiculous

My absolute favorite things about Bean, without a shadow of a doubt, are the ridiculous things. I love absurdity in almost any form, and when you take a healthy dose of absurdity and add it to a heaping helping of my main man…well, folks. That’s just about perfection to me. His major milestones were amazing, don’t misunderstand. I cannot possibly forget his first, wobbly steps, watching him learn to crawl and climb and wiggle, and even the first time he held up a toy in his tiny, chubby fist. Milestones can be magic too. But the ridiculous things? These are the things I know I’ll really hold on to as time flies by. These are the things that just…count. You know? These are the things I cross my fingers and hope beyond hope that Bean remembers about his life when he’s older.

~ The Cart Hug. While pushing Bean down the aisles of a grocery store he will occasionally reach out for me and pull me close to him. I, of course, oblige and lean in and he gives me the greatest, biggest, most amazing little hug you could ever hope to get. From the front seat of a shopping cart. I don’t care if we’re backing up traffic in frozen foods. I don’t care how many people are watching and thinking I’ve lost my mind. My son just had a moment, totally unprompted, where he decided he just wanted to hug his mama. Not a normal hug, though. A ridiculous hug, from the seat of the shopping cart. This is definitely my new favorite hug. Hands down. And dare I say, I think this serves as proof that Bean has a bit of mama’s ridiculous gene himself.

~ A sunset dance, in the parking lot of Target. I don’t quite remember what prompted it, to be honest. We had just finished another round of Target shopping, Bean and me, and were unloading our wares into the car when it struck. The sudden and ridiculous need to dance. I picked him up out of the cart and we slow danced while I sang “You Are My Sunshine” about 47 times in a row. The sun was setting so I paused a moment to show him the beautiful bright pink sky that had been watching our dance, then gave him one more ridiculous twirl before, reluctantly, loading him into the car. Stares from strangers. Bedtime fast approaching. None of it was going to put a cramp in our style that night. No way mister.

~ Diddy Kisses and Hugs. Hubs will get down on the floor and call Bean over for a “Diddy Kiss” or a “Diddy Hug” and the result is always completely, ridiculously, amazing. Bean gets giddy as he scurries over to love on his Daddy, who happens to be one of his absolute most favorite people in the world. Bean even makes a game out of it at bedtime, giving Daddy kisses and hugs and cuddles while silly old Mama tries to do things like put on jammies and get him to sleep. Mama doesn’t get kisses while Daddy’s around, you know. And don’t you know Bean just laughs and giggles and squeals at how funny it is that mama wants a kiss, and he gives it away to Daddy instead. Watching Bean dive into Hubs’ open arms is just plain wonderful. To know that your two favorite people on Earth love each other that much…it just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and ridiculous inside.

~ Every time I walk outside into our backyard I see it. The ridiculousness. It’s just everywhere. A cooler I left in the sun to dry out is somehow filled with dandelion flowers, carefully and lovingly picked by clumsy, chubby, toddler hands. A sippy cup sits at the bottom of a flower pot for safe keeping. Big giant kiss marks on the sliding glass door. A kiddo who has stripped off his own diaper and is chasing the dog around the yard for a ridiculous, hilarious hug. A small boy, barely knee-high, yelling ridiculous, unintelligible things at his doggies every time they bark. The yard is one of our favorite ridiculous places.

~ Ridiculous, unwavering, totally boundless curiosity. It’s extraordinary, to tell you the truth. He has to learn everything and try it all himself and explore every single thing all the time. It is ridiculously exhausting and, at the same time, ridiculously beautiful to watch. We get out of the car at home and he has to go touch the light on the garage sensor. When the Tupperware falls out of the cabinet he cannot rest until he has tried every possible combination of lids and bowls. He could pet the dog’s ear for 45 straight minutes, switching hands back and forth, trying to pet it forwards and backwards and every way in between. He has to be the one to turn off his light switch every night on the way to his crib because otherwise, bedtime is completely ruined. His demands are ridiculous, and that tells me they’re all his very own creations. Ridiculously ridiculous. 

He is just perfection, that Bean. And by perfection, of course I mean Ridiculous. With a capital “R”. It doesn’t take but a minute, you know. It doesn’t have to be fancy or meticulously planned or even make much sense at all. But your child will eat it up, always coming back for seconds or thirds or even fourths. It’s good for the soul and the mind and the entire darn universe. The ridiculous is what it’s all about around here. Promise you’ll have a ridiculous moment of your own today, blog readers. Bonus points if you share a little bit of the ridiculousness with me back here. It can be ridiculously addicting.