So I ran across something about push presents. You've heard of them. You've seen them. A trinket, a bauble, a token of affection after the baby is puuuusssshed out (push is being used here a verb to encompass all forms of giving birth, c-sections included, for all intents and purposes of this post). Now, the baby itself is the perfect push present, of course, but heckadoo, it was a long road getting here and something sparkly is always appreciated.
Does anyone get their husband something? Like Papa Push Present. A Daddy Done Good Gift. It is a question I've never heard asked: should dads get a little gift?
I say no. Wait. Let me rephrase: Hell-to-the-NO. Dads don't get push presents. Dads deserve a lot, they deserve our thanks, our love. But I carried Kiddo 40 weeks (or more). I gained 57 pounds. I was in labor for a week. I gave birth to Kiddo. The fact is he didn't.
And then I started thinking of the argument my husband would make as to why he deserved a push present.
He may plead his case for a new set of golf clubs claiming he got me to the hospital on time (even though he managed to hail a taxi that managed to hit every pothole on the way there). He'll say once we got there, he fetched the shaved ice, anything I needed out of my bag, and he had to sleep in that plastic faux leather, wood-composite, can't-get-comfortable-no-matter-how-you-shift-your-hiney chair.
And I will show him my stretch marks and say, "Try again, dear."
He will claim when it started getting close to the baby's arrival, as contractions were getting closer together, he'll say he was in charge of everything: watching the clock, breathing with me, the encouraging words. He will claim he didn't faint while watching them take my intestines out of my body during my c-section, calling it a heroic act and definitely worthy of a new flat-screen TV.
And I will show him my permanent tummy pooch with the lovely c-section scar and say, "Try again, sweetie."
He will remind you that he had to call all of the relatives with the fabu news of Kiddo's arrival -- including crazy Cousin Jonathan -- causing his elbow to get super-tired holding his iPhone. He will say he was the one to wade through all of the stuffed animals in the gift shop for the perfect bear. He will retell the story of the two-hour car seat installment he did solo to score a guys-only weekend in Vegas.
And I will show him my saggy boobs from breastfeeding and say, "Try again, babe."
He will assert that I gave birth during the seventh game of the World Series. When his beloved White Sox were in it. He will assert he was actually in pain during this moment, maybe not as much pain as I was in, but he was in pain.
And I will hand him a post-it note, with a glittery smiley face sticker and "You Did Great!" scrawled with a Sharpie. Hey, the glitter makes it sparkly. And remember, something sparkly is always appreciated.
Do dads deserve a push present?
Image via stephendepolo/Flickr