My mother, of course, was crying the second Mike came out of the delivery room.

My twin nieces were born -- extracted? -- shortly after noon on the East Coast, one minute apart. Other than having a little extra fluid in their lungs, which the NICU claims is nothing it can't fix in an hour, they're healthy and presumably happy little babies, at least until they get to know us and are old enough to realize they drew the short straw. But that's miles away.

The eldest, Lauren -- to Lauren's delight -- weighed in at a respectable seven and a half pounds. Her twin sister Madeleine is a full pound lighter, so clearly, Lauren bullied her way into more nutrients and womb space. I think she's already taking after her West Coast doppelganger, who has been known to throw elbows in front of the pantry and is not afraid to use her fists to intimidate me.

Ever the zealous father, Mike snapped pictures of his new daughters, but he seems to have jumped the gun a little -- I swear, I detect errant goo on both of them, and fervently wish he'd waited until the babies were cleaned up completely before he chose to capture the moment. I'm so going to be the mother who gets shown her child fresh from the birth canal, scrunches her nose, and says, "Eh, that's okay, why don't you go ahead and wipe that down before I deal with it? Thanks." I had begun referring to the pictures as the Goo Gallery, until I realized that is the name of a porn franchise, and I'm not quite ready for those two spheres to intersect.

Madeleine came out of the NICU first, and my mother took her and promptly wept. Of course.

I love the names. Madeleine and Lauren, very graceful. Lilting even. And it worked out perfectly because while I adore the names and think they're perfect, they're not names I would have chosen for my own children, so there are no clenched fists and gritted teeth and under-the-breath vengeance oaths. This was my goal all along, gently disparaging any name I thought had potential for my children while cunningly suggesting other acceptable alternatives. Because the names of my nieces? Yes: All about me.

Actually, I would have considered naming my child Lauren, had I not then been so unfortunate as to connect myself with a Lauren in my adult life. Damn that bit of bad luck. I can't now give the infamous, nefarious Lauren a namesake without potentially making my other close friends feel a little awkward, or agreeing to pop out a Jessica, Carrie, Julie, Michael, or Dan, or even -- terrifyingly -- a Dr. No. But my various orifaces object staunchly to that particular plan, so it looks like my own family will be free of Laurens.

Unless Lauren saves my life, or actually delivers the child, especially if it's in the back of a cab or in a cabin in the woods where we went to have a huge fight and hash out all the history that turned friends into bitter foes, yet she overcame her hatred and resentment for the sake of saving a wee life. In that case, I can safely say all bets are off.

My sister and her husband are delighted, tired, relieved, and overwhelmed. As Mike pointed out, their family is now a full 66.67-percent bigger. Everything they learned on one infant last time now gets applied to two at once. All Leah's hand-me-downs are great, but only half as helpful. There's a lot of challenges ahead for them, and as much of a miracle as parenting and childbirth can be, it's also going to be just as fraught with nerves for them as it was the first time.

Wow, it feels great to have them out in the world. I can only imagine how Alison feels, besides pleasantly doped up on painkillers. I'm so eager to meet them. I can't wait for the first time they wrap their tiny fists around my finger, or play with my curly hair, the way Leah so curiously did at her christening, when she was two months old and making my acquaintance for the first time. When my hair was long, it was a bonding tool for me and babies -- Leah loved to play with it, and Hunky Cameraman's niece used to stare at it and smile. To get her to look at the camera for photos on her first birthday, they had to position me underneath it because she wouldn't stop staring and grinning at my head.

Not being able to hold the twins and see them with my own eyes certainly smarts, as does knowing that Lauren's shot at holding Baby Lauren before I do is almost a lock -- she'll be in Washington visiting Julie and could probably fairly easily finagle a quick trip to babytown out of it if she felt like holding something that screams. Other than me and Jessica, that is.

Enough self-pity. Joy! I'm an aunt again!

It's a shame for Leah that she'll have to be sold, now that she's being replaced with two brand-spanking new, younger models, but she's had a good run and she can't really expect anything more from us at this point, can she? We all have to move on at some point in our lives.

I'm off to smoke a cigar. Except, more like a Snickers bar.

Someone got here by searching for: Doritos free card game answers Reading: Drunky But Funky -- we added an update and three more pictures late last night. Writing: My last script for this show, which is due Wednesday. Ha ha. Right.