The New Kid On The Block

Grayson Ryan Ewing

No, no, no, I'm not talking about Donnie or Joey.  There's a new addition to the Fan Club family. And he's got the right stuff, baby.

On December 17, 2014, Grayson Ryan Ewing was born.  He weighed nearly ten pounds, and gave new meaning to the old expression, "gonna tear you a new asshole."  I'm sure my lovely wife is just elated that I wrote that part, but I'm about eighty-five percent certain she doesn't read my blog anyway.  I suppose I could just use the backspace key and erase it but I'm afraid I've already lost track of where the off comment is. 

So anyway, he brought new meaning to the old expression, "gonna tear you a new asshole."

Ladies, I know you're all cringing from the idea of pushing a ten-pounder out of you so I'll save you the explicit details.

Who am I kidding, if you don't hear all about the blood, guts, random colored liquids, and lack of oxygen then it'll never make sense how I nearly passed out in the delivery room.

That's right, I darn near dropped to the floor like a ten pound bag of potatoes.  I'm using the potato analogy because I'm Irish.  If I were, say, Russian then I would've dropped like a ten liter bottle of vodka.  The same amount of vodka that is equally divided amongst all new fathers in Russia whom are about to spontaneously drop at the sight of their newborn son.

And that's what happened. I turned light-headed and dizzy, and they made me lay down before I fell down and hurt myself.  Pansy ass pansy. 

The big sister and the little brother.

I guess I was feeling this incredible amount of over-joy at the sight of my little boy.  The doc said it was because I wasn't getting enough oxygen after helping my lovely wife with all that pushing.  But what does he know?  He's only a doctor.  Come to think of it, I'm not too sure about his credentials.  Sure, he delivered our new baby boy just fine, but he didn't even have a Flux Capacitor with him.  How good of a doctor could he really be without one?

So anyway, there I am laying on the floor while the nurses got on the intercom and immediately began calling, "We need some juice in here for the dad.  Stat!"

That's when I looked up at my lovely wife and she was looking back at me with a face that could only read, "Seriously?"  It seems as though my little near-accident had taken away all the attention and thunder from the woman who had just given birth.

Guys, there's some advice for you - in the delivery room, it's all about your wife.  Even if you think marriage is a 50/50 deal. 

But back to the nurses for a sec... since my lovely wife had to have her water broken manually, and the entire baby delivery took about three hours from the time of inducement, and the nurses each needed a break during that time, we had four or five different nurses come in and out.

I'd like to point out that during those three hours I was witness to four or five different nurses inserting their fingers right up into my wife to check up on her.  That's as close to the fantasy as I think I'll ever get.  I think I may have enjoyed it more than my lovely wife did, but I haven't asked her to be sure.  Sometimes I'm just happy to know that I'm happy.

Aren't nurses great?  I mean, even though they don't dress in those skimpy white costumes you see in porno movies, they're just all around great.  I'd like to think that any time I've been to a hospital over the last few years the nurses have been more involved than the doctors.  And ninety percent of the time they're much easier on the eyes.

And then there's the whole part of them going knuckles deep on my wife.  I'm glad in Canada we have free health care, otherwise I'd be blowing my whole paycheck on nurses.

they lost to the Leafs when this was taken.

But back to what you came here for - the new baby boy!  When Grayson was taken to his first family doctor's appointment (and I'm not about to rant about how attractive our family doctor is for being a woman in her 50s) we found out he's in the 95 percentile.  When he first came out at almost ten pounds we thought he was a big one, but we didn't realize just how big he was.  Being in the 95 percentile means that only 5% of babies are bigger than him at his age.

JESUS CHRIST!

I am happy to say that little Grayson is doing just fine too.  He eats.  He poops.  He's already trying to sit up on his own at two weeks old.  And probably most importantly he throws his fist in the air with pride when we chant, "LET'S GO BRUINS!"

When our daughter, Ryleigh, was born in 2011 the Bruins went on to win the Cup that year.  Here's hoping Grayson can have the same affect on the team this year 'cause they kinda suck balls right now.  But that's a blog for a whole other day.

Grayson is set to take over for me and become Grayson Ryan Fan Club when he's old enough and the idea of me trying to get young girls to join my Fan Club is just too creepy for everyone involved.  I guess this is what it means when Brando says, "The son becomes the father and the father, the son," in Superman: The Movie.

- ryan of the ryan fan club