NEW YORK — Few things seem to cloud Al Roker's sunny mood. But last November the jovial weathercaster was feeling a bit sad. Daughter Leila was marking another birthday; his little girl was growing up.
Leila had turned 1.
Any viewer watching Roker on NBC's "Today" can tell that the portly prophet loves his job. He's also nuts for his wife of five years, ABC News correspondent Deborah Roberts. But when it comes to Leila and her big sister, Courtney — well, in Roker's heavens, they hung the moon.
For evidence, read Roker's memoir "Don't Make Me Stop This Car! (Adventures in Fatherhood)," which arrives in stores just in time for Father's Day (more than coincidence?). It is full of feelings and observations that will ring true for most any parent. Or anybody who had one.
In his book, Roker tells of the nail-biting time he shared with his former wife, Alice, in adopting Courtney, now 13.
He recounts the campaign he and Deborah waged to become pregnant.
Roker recalls his happy childhood in Queens. He had five younger siblings, three of them adopted, and a "really good guy" dad (Al Sr.) who put in back-to-back shifts driving a city bus, yet still made time for each youngster.
At 46, he ponders the difference between being a kid in his day and now and the difference between his dual roles as dad of a teen and a toddler.
And he marvels at the law of nature dictating that all of us, as parents, turn into our own parents. He recounts being at the wheel on a family outing when Courtney and her cousins made a little too much racket from the backseat. He was helpless. "Those six little words came out involuntarily, the ones that I had heard my father use with us some 30 years ago: DON'T MAKE ME STOP THIS CAR!"
During a recent chat with a reporter, Roker insists he didn't set out to write a book on parenting, or anything. "But I had always kept a journal. And I write the daily journal for my Web site."
From a tiny acorn the mighty oak grows, especially with a publisher's deadline bearing down. Roker found himself pounding out the pages, while Deborah, sneaking peaks, gave him regular feedback: "You can't put THAT in the book!"
He laughs understandingly. "I took a lot of stuff out. She was still a little uncomfortable. But I convinced her: I think this book is a good thing. If nothing else, it'll help people."
Among other things, Roker drives home the principle that an adopted child is no less "natural" to its parents than a child to whom they gave birth.
He gets downright indignant at the idea that Dad can't play the parent game with the versatility displayed by any mom. Al Roker wants you to know he sure as heck doesn't shrink from changing diapers. Fatherhood, he declares with mock machismo, "is full-contact sport."
And it's the real national pastime, Roker contends.
"I think most of us are prewired to be parents," he says. "For some of us, the switch is hidden behind some sheetrock. But once you have the baby, that sheetrock comes off and you flip the switch, and you go, 'Oooh, I love this!' "
Of course, sometimes biology throws up certain obstacles.
Roker takes readers through the gantlet of fertility treatments he and his wife endured. At first, Deborah had been reluctant to try: What if it didn't work? Al, by contrast, writes that he is "used to failure. After all, I'm a weatherman."
Now 19 months old (almost grown!), Leila is walking and she's talking — preferably on Dada's cell phone.