Fifty-seven years later, the two of us also began our D-Day in the middle of the night, although in much quieter fashion. At 1:30 a.m, we each awake as we can't sleep. Diane gets up to make a bathroom run. Craig goes upstairs to check baseball scores and the status of Tropical Storm Allison.

Our still unborn twins won't be happy to learn that their two favorite teams, the St. Louis Cardinals and Houston Astros, each lost last night, allowing a combined 21 runs in the two setbacks. We do receive better news on the weather front as Allison has moved further inland and has spared our part of Houston with most of the torrential rains that soaked other regions of the Gulf Coast. It appears that our route to the hospital, which we'll be traveling in a little over five hours will be passable.

Just a few hours earlier, Allison was peaceful and relatively benign. As she gained strength, she soaked us and left everything wet. We can use the storm as an apt metaphor for the hurricane of diaper changings that await us.

Our own version of the longest day, D-Day, has begun. We each go back to sleep.

Posted by dad early morning June 6--next update after the births!