A devious, conniving wizard behind a diamond encrusted curtain once concocted this idea about a "push gift." Do not be deceived, ladies and gentlemen - that unseen CEO of a jewelry company was not looking for a way to reward new moms for delivering their first baby(ies.) The idea of a push gift is just good old capitalism merged with advertising, urban legend, and exploiting a man's guilt for failing to pony up some bling (the engagement ring apparently doesn't make the cut.) Okay, I'll get off my soap box now.
By no means do I intend to belittle the physical challenge of delivery that lies ahead for my baby mama. If anything, I've got belly envy. Baby T loves to practice kung fu and play air drums, which mom gets to experience all the time but daddio only feels when we're spooning. The best part about my wife's belly in its current form is feeling it in between us when we hug. It's a warm reminder of February 1, 2009.
As for a push gift, Baby T's mama has not so subtly left reminders in the form of Barmakian catalogues around the house and seemingly casual comments like, "Oh wow, this is so pretty!" I know that she is kind of kidding but I know that she wouldn't mind if I "surprised" her, too. I was raised Catholic so clearly guilt is one potential way of effectively manipulating me. And adding fuel to the fire are dudes who broke from what should be an unwritten fellow man code by going ahead and springing for the bling. (Yo, you're making us simpletons look bad!)
Crunch time fast approaches. I keep envisioning the delivery room with my baby mama and I holding hands in a hospital room. With a catcher's mitt on my free hand and a couple stogies in my pocket, I'll be chanting words of encouragement while Shell is loudly cursing me for having knocked her up. As for our push gift, the real present we'll be looking for on that day is the end of our wait for baby T. 10 weeks or less to go!