What I remember from my daughter Melanie's birth: I only missed an inning and a half of a baseball game on TV

I'm kidding, of course. I mean, we really did have the Cleveland Indians-Boston Red Sox doubleheader on the TV in the labor and delivery room. And Terry was so good at birthing babies by that point (Melanie is/was our fourth) she made the whole thing happen really, really fast.

But it's not like the baseball games are my #1 memory from the day's proceedings.

Melanie's full head of hair and beautiful face when she came out. And the amazing strength Terry showed in bringing this beautiful little girl into the world. Those things are what I remember most.

The Indians were a close second.

Maybe third.

Anyway, Mel turns 24 years old tomorrow, which seems impossible, but the calendar does not lie. I was not, of course, the one who birthed her on September 21, 2000, but I seem to remember Terry's labor that day being just about the easiest among all of our kids.

As was the case with four of our five children, they hooked Terry up to a Pitocin pump to induce contractions, since all of our kids except Chloe had to be coaxed out of the womb (it must have been really comfortable in there). And I know that at some point Terry was experiencing enough pain to make the whole thing less than enjoyable.

But really, relative to the other times I watched her do this, Melanie's birth seemed like such a breeze.

I remember Terry calmly informing the L&D nurses and her doctor (the great Dinkar Rao) that it was time for Mel to make her appearance. And they took Terry seriously and made the necessary preparations because, when it comes to matters like this, veteran moms like my wife know what they're talking about.

I took a lot of pictures of Melanie in the moments after she was born. Like, before they even had a chance to wipe the goo off her and she was still connected to her mother via the umbliical cord.

The child was literally seconds old and all I could think to do was play photographer.

The other thing I remember about Mel's birth was bringing her home and all of us – all six of us – getting sick at the same time. It was a stomach thing, I believe, because our living room was lined with old blankets to catch any misdirected puke.

In time we all recovered, of course, and Melanie turned out to be such a wonderful addition to our family. She's a smart, successful, beautiful young woman, and I'm so proud of her.

For the record, the Indians and Red Sox split that doubleheader. I only wish the Tribe could have won both games in Mel's honor.

Confessions

1. I don't remember ever hearing of Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, and Michelle Knight before in my life...and I live within 20 miles of them. Thus, when this whole story broke, it took me a good 24 hours to understand who these people were, what had happened to them, and why this was such an incredibly big deal. You can't imagine my confusion.
   
   
2. With huge apologies to my nephew Mark, until a year or two ago, I wasn't quite sure who the band Oasis was, and I couldn't have identified a single song by them. Mark is their biggest fan. I don't understand how their existence passed me by, but it did. They're apparently quite good. Sorry, Mark.
   
   
3. I don't dislike the New York Yankees nearly as much as I dislike the Boston Red Sox. Sorry, fellow Cleveland sports fans. I realize this violates some sort of code, but there you have it. Let it be said, though, that my intense dislike for the Pittsburgh Steelers trumps them both, for what that's worth.
   
   
4. I like raisins and prunes. A lot. Even more than, say, ice cream. I know this makes me a freak. I know this makes some people almost angry at me. But again, there you have it. I'm not changing. (And for the record, I think the Sun Maid girl in the little bonnet is pretty hot.)
   
   
5. Speaking of hot, if I had to pick another male on this planet that I could look like, I'm still going with George Clooney. I know he's not the Hot Guy du Jour, but I think he's a darn good-looking dude. In, um, a strictly platonic way, of course.