Busy.

With the way life has been recently, blogging has taken a bit of a back seat. I have had to get real with myself about the fact that currently, I am NOT being paid to blog, thus the things I AM being paid for (or should be getting paid for--here's hoping Signature, Ink. actually MAKES money this year!) need to take priority. That being said, I'm happy-ish that I can be blogging once a week. 


I can't think back on a time in my life that I wasn't busy with something, and this pregnancy is proving to be the just more of the same. Between school (ugh. school--hopefully this will be one of my last years teaching), working to start a business, and my side gig teaching SAT & ACT prep courses at night I'm happy when I can squeeze in a little TV time with the hubs or dinner with a good friend. Presently, I'm grateful to steal a few quiet morning moments in between Signature, Ink. invoicing/bookkeeping and getting ready for my nephew Finn's 1st birthday party to blog a bit--for me.


Being busy like this has me looking forward to the weeks after Clark is born. While I'm 100% aware (although I'm sure not truly prepared) for six plus weeks of pure exhaustion, part of me is truly looking forward to the opportunity to be busy with one thing--my new family. School will be handled by a substitute. At least four of the six weddings we are currently working on will be in production or done. SAT & ACT classes will be finished. And I will be ridiculously tired and completely in love with the new man in my life. I'm praying that those weeks will not only be an amazingly precious time for me to cherish, but also a time for Michael and me to make some discoveries and decisions about what can/must change in lives in order to put this new family of ours at the top of our priority list.


In the meantime, I'm handling this busy time as best I can, praying for the strength and wisdom to move toward motherhood, and thankful for the people in my life who understand why I am often MIA.

Fear

As promised in my last post, it's time to talk about the fear of childbirth. From all I've read and been told, EVERY woman experiences a modicum of fear when considering birthing her child. It apparently took 24 weeks for that fear to set in for me. Last week I had a true breakdown that resulted in Michael being soaked in my tears. So, what threw me into such terror? Well, other women, of course.

It was mostly my fault. I should have known better. I've spent most of my online-adult life avoiding forums. Rarely is there anything of value on these cyber traps, but I just couldn't resist the thread on my baby site titled "What no one tells you about delivery." In truth, I clicked the link with an air of  "tell me something I don't know." After all, I've read a LOT about birth. I've had friends who have recently given birth who have shared their stories. I felt that I was prepared, educated, ready.

About 80 responses in to the thread that should have been more accurately titled "Let's try to scare all new moms to death (or into scheduled c-sections)", I started freaking out. How had I been so lead astray? Were my "friends" maintaining some sort of pact in this new mommy club they joined? Had they promised to tell enough of the truth to appease me but kept the real horrors of childbirth to themselves only to dupe some other poor sap (i.e. me) into pregnancy only to relish in her demise? (Lord help us if our son has my flare for the dramatic.)

I went straight to (one of) the source(s), my dear friend Sarah who is currently carrying her second child. (Baby VP 2.0 is due just a few weeks before our Clark!) After announcing that I was incredibly mad at her for lying to me, (you should know is that Sarah is also one of my business partners in Signature, Ink., a fellow teacher, one of my spiritual mentors, and easily my closest rival when it comes to being bossy, so she is used to my accusatory demeanor) I proceeded to explain why. I'll spare you the details because really, they're gross and it turns out that everything I was afraid of, according to Sarah, was not shared with me because it didn't happen or is "not normal and those people should see a doctor."

Where does this leave my fear quotient? Much lower than it was after reading the scary forum, but slightly higher than it was, let's say, 7 months ago. I know that reading will only do so much to prepare me for task of giving birth and that the classes we'll be taking will help a bit more. I also know that women, some of whom are  much stronger than me, but many who are much weaker than I am have done this for thousands of years. Our child will come into this world and all will be well. In the mean time, I'm reading, praying, and seriously considering purchasing Hypnobabies. At this point, any relaxation has to help!

Judge much?

Remember the adage...something about the things that annoy you the most about others are probably things that you're guilty of yourself? (I think it's an adage, if not, it's a Jane-ism compliments of my mother.) Anyway, I've been thinking about this a lot lately mostly because I can't seem to get away from judgment.

I'll start by fessing up. My name is Betty and I can be INCREDIBLY judgmental. I know this about myself--I'm not necessarily ok with it, nor to I accept it as who I will be forever, but I know that my natural tendency is to assume that my way it right/best. With that in mind, I will also say that I've come a long way. If you can believe it (and some of you can because you've known me for most of my life), I used to be even more judgmental than I am now. For much of my life I wrote it off as being opinionated, but I now realize it's more than that. 


With motherhood looming in front of me, I'm working on being a woman that Clark will be proud to have as his mother, and no part of me believes that being judgmental is part of the job description. I'm also realizing that this club of mothers that I'm about to join is not much different than a lot of other clubs or societies that I've been a part of or witnessed. My friend Sarah blogged just last week about mean girls. There's little value in me re-hashing what she said, so go read her post (and follow her blog while you're there) then head back here.


Sarah's observation about mothers being just as horrible to one another as the "Plastics" in the movie Mean Girls isn't a unique one this week. Just yesterday my sister-in-law/best friend Becky posted this article about women judging other women for staying home...or not staying home (because although we women may be bitches, at least we're equal opportunity bitches).


My point is this. While my child is still in utero, I've seen others judged for their choices (What?! You're ok with breastfeeding...in PUBLIC?!), and I'm sorry to say, I've even been the one judging. But what I'm realizing is what you might call another Jane-ism, we're all just doing the best that we can with what we have where we're at. It's possible that the mother sitting in front of me at church feeding her baby formula tried desperately for months to breast feed, but finally, finally was able to move past her own hang-ups and supplement or switch to formula for the health of her baby. Or maybe she never tried to breast feed. The thing is, it's not my business. And while I don't understand it and hope I'm never in that position, judging her doesn't help promote the greater good. It doesn't recognize that this woman has taken on what I already view as the most difficult job in the world. And it definitely doesn't make me the woman I want my children's mother to be. 


I don't believe I'll ever stop being opinionated. I have very specific beliefs about most things, and I won't apologize for believing that breastfeeding, cloth diapering, and non-processed foods are what's best for my baby. However, I'm done being judgmental about others who don't believe the same thing because if mothers can't get love from other mothers--women who have literally been there--then where can they get the love and appreciation they deserve?


Finally, the more I read about delivery and postpartum recovery the more love I have for all of you mothers because I'm seriously beginning to freak about this giving birth thing that's going to happen in a few months...but I'll leave that for my next post.

Running

If you've read any of my pregnancy posts, you know that I absolutely love carrying this little guy! The good outweighs the bad in so many ways, but recently I've been craving a run. My college roommate, Sarah (if you don't yet follow/read her blog, you need to!), just posted about getting back into running after the birth of her daughter. While I'm happy for her, I was more jealous than anything. 


I miss running. Now this sounds silly given that if I were a hard-core runner I could still be running right now, 22 weeks into pregnancy. After all, Amber Miller ran the Chicago marathon and then gave birth to her daughter a few short hours later (she was even in labor during the last leg of the race...seriously?).  So, no, I'm not that hard-core, but even people who aren't hard-core can love and miss something. And, I miss running. 


It's really the feeling I get about 7 weeks into running that I miss. My lungs no longer burn, my feet and legs no longer hurt, and 3 miles is a "short" run. That's what I miss. That's what I've been craving. It's supposed to be 50 degrees in Chicago on Friday--perfect running weather, but instead of joining my fellow runners out on the road, I'll be avoiding their cautious glances as I drive by. While running and I have always had a love-hate relationship, the fact that right now we're stuck in this taboo love affair is a bit more than I can handle. I'm hoping that once my Lo gets here he and I will be able to hit the trail, jogging stroller and all, so that someday he'll love-hate running as much as I do.

21 Weeks & a Post-Christmas Update

Oh, my! I can't believe it's been 12 days since my last post. So much has happened in the past few weeks. I'll try to avoid my long-winded ramblings and give a quick, bulleted update! 


Diaper bag: Thanks to my dear friend, Chrisanne, and her lovely daughter, Tenley, for going with me to retrieve my coveted Timi & Leslie bag! I got quite the deal on my trendy yet functional accessory. While Charlie retails at $160, I was able to score the designer bag for a mere $94! I did end up getting in the mustard color, and after seeing the black and light brown colors in person at another store, I'm happy I did!


Cleaning: As usual with breaks, I think I'm going to accomplish much more than I do. With our crazy holiday schedule, the new cleaning routine hasn't completely come to fruition. I'm not abandoning the plan though! I should have a better update for you after I get back to school. (Ugh. School.)


Christmas: It was a wonderfully odd Christmas for the Hoyle/Samples clan. There were many changes instituted this year, and on top of it all, there was no snow. All of that added up to wonderful time with family (especially because my nephew, Finn, celebrated his first Christmas), but when it was all over, I was left feeling like Christmas had yet to arrive. I'm hopeful that next year the excitement of Clark's first Christmas will bring the magic back.


Clark: Perhaps the most exciting news is that I reached the halfway point in my pregnancy. It's odd because there are days that I still feel newly pregnant and others seem like I've been pregnant forever! Either way, I'm so grateful that everything is progressing just as it is supposed to. At our last midwife appointment a few weeks ago I was measuring right at 18 weeks, had perfect weight, and other stats. Thank you, Lord! 


In other baby news, I was delightfully surprised the morning after Christmas when Clark kicked me for the first time! I've felt him moving for several weeks now but no real kicks. It was the best present I got all year! With that said, here's a belly shot for you. (I've got to say that I'm getting to that "I feel super gross" portion of my pregnancy, so I'm not sure how many of these shots will be posted from here on out.) Oh, I almost forgot! We put the crib together yesterday, so you get to see that too!

A name for our boy.

I'm quickly learning that parents have the best of intentions. Sometimes these remain just that, intentions. For example, after announcing to our families the fact that we were expecting, I continued, almost in the same breath, to say "We'll announce the name when the baby gets here." My mother-in-law's response, "You're not going to choose something weird, are you?" In fact, that was the reason I wanted to wait. I knew that it was possible that our name would be viewed as "weird".  And truthfully, I didn't want to deal with it. Also, I had gone into naming situations before being sure and then changed my mind. (Before I adopted Bentley, I was dead set on the name Toby. Even when he came with that as his name I changed it; he never looked like a Toby to me.) What if we announced a name and the baby didn't look like the name?

As we got closer to the gender determination ultrasound, things began to change. We whittled our list down to four names, two for a boy and two for a girl. A week before we went for the ultrasound we had a serious talk about the names. For a boy, there was a clear choice. In fact, I told Michael, "If it's a boy, I can't imagine naming him anything other than ___." He agreed. I felt a tad guilty because there was no definitive choice for a girl, but I decided we would cross that bridge if we got to it. On December 2, 2011 we got the amazing news that our child would be our son. And even better we knew his name!

When we called our families with the news, we also confirmed his name (we had told only family the four possiblities earlier in the week--remember how I said I had the best of intentions?). I thought family would be the only ones to know until the little guy's arrival, but one day after work last week, Michael changed that too. "I told so-and-so at work the name." I was more surprised than mad. I thought we were keeping things under wraps, but apparently not. So, with that said, I didn't want So-and-so to know and not those of you who have been a part of my life/our lives for so long. Thus this post.

Our son's name is...**Drumroll **

Clark Wiley


Michael and I had a hard time agreeing on names. When it came to Clark though, there was no contest; we loved  it! It didn't hurt that it was Superman's alter-ego's name! You know how we love Clark Kent! In fact, although Michael doesn't want our son to be named "after" the mild-mannered reporter, I'm just fine saying that the Kansas farm boy is his name sake. How could a parent wish for a better example? Clark Kent was honest, respectful, polite, noble, humble, wise, intelligent, and kind. He put others before himself and worked tirelessly to make the world a better place. Regardless of whether or not he's named after America's superhero or just because we think Clark is a strong, solid name, I'm confident he'll grow to embody those traits and make us proud of him.


Wiley is much more straightforward. Michael's maternal grandfather's name was Wiley. Michael never got to meet Grandpa Wiley, but he grew up hearing stores about how much they looked like one another and how similar their personalities are. It's nice to think that Grandpa Wiley Berry's legacy of quiet strength and integrity can continue with our son.

In lust.

I'll admit it. I'm in lust. No, not with a super hunky A-lister or even a sexy pair of new sky-high black pumps. My current obsession? A diaper bag. Ah, how life has changed. I never thought I'd fawn over, wish for, and hunt down a...diaper bag. 


So which bag has captured my hyper-hormonal heart? Why the Timi and Leslie Charlie II, of course! What? You don't know what I'm talking about? You don't lust over diaper bags? It's ok,  I didn't either. Wait until you're preggo. My guess is that you'll join me. Here's a snapshot of my love.

Well, hello beautiful accessories!

Isn't it BEAUTIFUL?! Notice that it doesn't, not for one little second, look a thing like a diaper bag? I'm DYING to get my hands on this beauty. For that reason, my ever dedicated to fashion best friend Chrisanne is going to trek out to the suburbs with me tomorrow night and try to snag one of my very own. (The boutique where we had our gender determination ultrasound is hosting a Midnight Maddness sale and all their merchandise is 40% off from 6-10 tomorrow night!) I'll be sure and let you know how it goes, but for the mean time, keep your fingers crossed that we don't make the trip for nothing! 

See? Jessica Alba loves the bag too!

When Michael & I were at the boutique last they only had the bag in the mustard color. If that's the only color they have, should I still nab one?
For 40% off, I just might!

Nesting

Although I'm incredibly type A in many ways, I am NOT by nature a neat freak. Since being with Michael (my loving, but incredibly OCD husband) I've gotten much better at putting things away and keeping up with cleaning, but I am still far from having the spotlessly organized house that I want. Thus, when I found out I was expecting, I looked most forward to nesting out of all the symptoms of pregnancy. (Ok, if you know me, you know I was really looking forward to bigger boobs, but that has yet to happen--they lie about the boob thing; not everyone gets huge boobs!)

This leads me to my favorite new blog post from The Fun, Cheap or Free Queen. I've tried to implement a schedule like this in the past, but I think my version was much too intricate to be functional. This schedule fits on less than a page and is SIMPLE! My plan is to put it into place starting next week when I'm on Christmas Break (no, it's not vacation because I do not get paid for this time).

In addition to the schedule, I'll be cleaing the house with 100% natural homemade products. With the baby coming, I'm trying to get rid of as many chemicals as possible. I'll be sure to let you know how Operation Clean House works out with the new schedule and eco-friendly products!

Yes, we're cloth diapering.

Before you read on, please know that this post is in no way meant to sound preachy or critical of disposable diaper using parents. Would my child die if I used disposables? Of course not. Do I think that parents who use disposables are incompetent or bad parents? Definitely not. I'm slowly learning that we all make choices about what is most important to us. For Michael and me, cloth diapering is important.  I'm also learning that sometimes people do what is easiest in order to survive; I get that too.  

I wanted to write about our decision mostly because so many people ask about and are surprised by our choice. My guess is that because the cloth diapering revolution is rather new, few people know about why and how people do it. If nothing else, I hope this post answers some of your questions and leaves you asking some too. :)


Top Ten Reasons We're Cloth Diapering


#10--Cloth diapers are CRAZY cute! 
This is the most superficial reason, thus it is number 10. If all the other reasons didn't exist, I still might have gone this route just for the adorable factor. 

#9--Cloth diapers have more padding.
There's more cushioning for our little one as he takes toddles and topples while exploring the world. 


#8--You can't beat the convenience.
We won't have any midnight runs to Walgreen's because we're out of diapers!


#7--Potty training is easier.
When it is time to get our buddy out of diapers, he's more likely to train faster since he'll know that he's wet. (Chemicals in disposables/Pull Ups keep the baby dry, so he's less likely to realize that he's had an accident.)


#6--Being a leader is much more fun than being a follower. 
All I mean by this is that I'm not about to do anything as a parent simply because "everybody else does." I get that most Americans use disposables. Most Americans don't vote either. In fact, there are A LOT of things that most Americans do that I you'll never catch me doing.


#5--Cloth diapers are more reliable.
When tested against disposables, cloth diapers are more likely to contain leaks and blowouts! Less mess? Count me in!


#4--These aren't your grandma's cloth diapers!
When I tell people we're going to cloth diaper, after the shock and awe face has subsided, one of the first questions they ask is, "Like with pins?" No, people. There are no pins involved. A majority of our "stash" consists of pocket diapers (they go on like disposables) that are VERY user friendly. Here's a little diagram:

#3--I want our great-great-great-great grandchildren to live in a clean world. 
The average child will go through as many as 8,000 diapers before being potty trained. These diapers end up in landfills (accounting for 3.5 million TONS of poop and plastic going into our ground) that are not created for human excrement. This waste ends up in our groundwater and can cause a variety of problems. (Disposable diaper packages instruct users to dispose of feces in the toilet...when was the last time that happened?!)


#2--It's cheaper. (If Michael were writing this post, it would probably be his number 1!)
So far, we've spent about $300 on cloth diapers. By the time our stash is complete, we may  have spent $500--TOTAL. These diapers will not only be used for our first little guy, but can also be used for any children who join our family after him. If we were using disposables, we'd be spending a minimum of $800--A YEAR! (Yes, we'll be doing more laundry, but a couple extra loads a week won't even touch the money we'll be saving!)


#1--It's healthier for our baby. 
I've done TONS and TONS of research on this, and here's what it boils down to: disposables have crazy chemicals that I do not want on my child. In extreme cases, children have sustained chemical burns from these toxic elements. I know that I will sleep a little easier at night knowing that our little guy's bum is resting comfortably against soft cotton sans chemicals. In addition, the fact that we are having a little guy makes me want to cloth diaper even more; there have been studies connecting the use of disposable diapers on boys to lower sperm count as adults. I'd like grandchildren some day. 

I love this...

Michael and I were recapping our days yesterday and talking about how certain changes in our work situations would impact our lives once our little guy gets here. For the third year in a row, Michael will be forced to take 19 furlough days. While the loss of that income won't break us, it's frustrating. However, my ever-optimistic husband talked about how it will be nice to have an extra day at home with the baby and me during the last half of the year. All this conversation lead to dreaming about the future of our little family and the person our son will be.

As excited as I am to meet this miracle, I have to admit that part of me will be sad to no longer be pregnant. I'm sure once I get to the incredibly uncomfortable end of the pregnancy, I'll be grateful for the relief, but right now I'm relishing the alone time with my child.

I don't want to give the impression that there haven't been unpleasant or frustrating aspects of being pregnant. The constant nausea of the first trimester and the lack of enjoyment I get out of food right now are no fun. And I'm quite certain that once I start getting bigger and looking more pregnant the stretching and changing of my body will be depressing, but even with all of those irritations, I LOVE being pregnant!

I love the fact that everyday is bring your child to work day for me. I love knowing that he's safe and sound because he's with me. I love these first "flutters" of movement, and I L-O-V-E my sweet little man's profile in his sonogram pictures. Right now, I even love that my bump is starting to tell the story of our family.

I'm sure experiencing all of these pregnancy "firsts" with our future children will be exciting as well, but I wonder how much I'll get to enjoy and cherish them while chasing after another child. For that reason, I'm relishing all of these moments as they come and trying to document the excitement, wonder and anticipation that this child has already brought to our lives.

Waiting, guessing, and finding out.

Before we were even considering starting a family Michael and I knew that we would want to find out the gender of our child before he or she arrived. We're planners by nature, and the prospect of 40+ weeks not knowing if the new addition would be a boy or a girl was too much for either of us to handle.

Since we found out we were expecting, I've had this "boy" feeling. I second guessed it several times, mostly because I questioned the validity of mother's intuition. Could I really know before I knew? 

For fun (and at the prompting of my sisters) I checked out The Bump's Chinese Gender Chart. The ancient tradition told us our Lo would be a...BOY!

Out of pure curiosity and excitement, I bought an IntelliGender test on October 23. The gist of the test is that the first day's urine mixed with the crystal concoction indicates the gender of your child. It's supposed to be 80% accurate. The "scientific" test told us our Lo would be a...BOY!

 

It was hard to put much stock in either of these tests (even if they did agree), so we scheduled our gender determination ultrasound at a lovely place called The Belly Factory. (Thanks for the recommendation, Chrisanne, they were as wonderful as you said they were!) The tried and true ultrasound said our Lo would be a...BOY!

Three out of three isn't bad! While we would have been ecstatic to have a little girl, there's a part of me that feels so good knowing that I knew our Lo was a boy. It restores my faith in this mother's intuition I'm supposed to have (while also making me feel better that many of the "gender neutral" clothes/diapers we have right now are really more boy than I wanted to admit at the time). To say that we're thrilled to welcome this sweet little boy into our lives is the greatest understatement of all time! Get ready world, another Samples man is on his way!

A spirit of thankfulness...

I thought I would do way more posting about the day to day, week to week life of being pregnant, but I can only blog so many times about being exhausted or feeling queasy before I'm certain I would lose the small readership I have. Also, I never want the reporting of my symptoms to come across as whiny. The last thing I want to do is complain (to anyone other than Mike) about this pregnancy because I am so thankful for it.

The season I am currently at in my life brings with it many babies and friends who have or are having babies. I've had friends who complained through their entire pregnancies and others who, despite their opptomistic attitude lost babies. What I have learned from both extremes is that during this time in my life, in my child's life, all I can do is live with a spirit of thankfulness.

I'm thankful that a million things went right to result in this pregnancy. And although there are times that I'm sick, tired and uncomfortable, I'm always thankful that there are now two hearts beating fiercely inside me. While there have been a handful of times that a beer (or two) would have hit the spot, I've never, not once, wished I was not longer pregnant just so I could have the occasional cocktail. Pregnancy has brought about a new gratitude in me that I never realized I was living without. 


It makes sense then that this Thanksgiving was especially important to me. In fact, I wonder if I truly understood and appreciated Thanksgiving for the first time ever this year. It's so easy to get caught up in the day-to-day frustrations of work, relationship drama, and unavoidable mishaps that we forget all we have to be thankful for. I for one am grateful that this child is already helping me to slow down and appreciate this life that God has given me...given us. I can't wait to see what other lessons Lo will teach me once he/she is here!

Keep your hands to yourself.

As a child, I was told repeatedly to "Keep your hands to yourself." Usually, the direction came from my mother and was in regards to me touching my little brother. As an adult, my mother's voice still rings in my head when I remind my high school students to refrain from touching their classmates. While I have often thought the need to remind seniors of a kindergarten adage is rather ridiculous, I was more shocked that the timeless phrase nearly fell out of my mouth this morning during an interaction with a colleague.

I was warned that being pregnant would essentially remove people's ability to determine appropriate personal space, but I never dreamed that the inappropriate comments/behavior would start as early as 15 weeks! While talking to another teacher (someone I consider a dear friend) in the hallway this morning. another colleague (not a teacher, but an aide) butted into joined our conversation. She immediately called me "Mama" (I am NOT your mama, so please, do not call me that. Betty will work just fine) and proceeded to rub my bump (which still looks more like an extra 10 pounds rather than a baby). I was astonished...livid...speechless.

Here's the thing, I get it. I like rubbing baby bumps just as much as the next lady, but I think it's time that we remember boundaries or at least good manners. So, please, ask before you rub or keep your hands to yourself.

Room to breathe.

Recently, life has felt a little...tight. Between managing the most intense workload I've ever had as a teacher, navigating the new waters of pregnancy, trying to maintain relationships, and feeling guilty when I suck at any of the previous endeavors, my day to day has become rather restricting. This weekend, however, Michael and I went away for the weekend with three of our favorite people and got to breathe. It was glorious! 


Friday evening Randy, Becky, Finn, Michael and I headed for a couple of days in South Haven, Michigan. It turned into a weekend full of food, shopping, laughing, drinking (for the boys), and wonderful memories. We're hoping that this will turn into an annual trip. If so, next year our Lo will join us. And if we plan it far enough in advance, maybe Courtney will be able to come too!


Even though I took my camera and our Flip, I took no pictures, thus, you're seeing the weekend through Becky's eyes (some of the best eyes to look at anything). 

Our view from the balcony.

The boys on the way to the lighthouse.

Uncle Mike & Aunt Betty love you, Finn!

Becky, Finn, & Randy--Perfect family picture!

"Vroooom!" Finn loves his cars.

The other boys loved their "pimp chalices". 

Checking out the iPad and the fun Crayola coloring app.

To Make You Feel My Love

One of my favorite love songs has always been Garth Brooks' "To Make You Feel My Love". The idea of someone desperate to show his love for me was so appealing in my teens and early twenties.

A lot has changed since then, and I was given a new perspective on this song yesterday while watching the season finale of one of my favorite shows. It showed a montage of a new family in the hospital right after delivery as Adele's version of the song played in the background, and I lost it. Through quiet sobs, I decided this would be the song. The song I will play for our unborn child once Lo can hear (only a month away!). The song I will sing to my infant to remind him or her that my greatest goal will always be that no matter where any of my children are in this life, I will always do anything in my power to let them know they are loved.

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I would offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I'd go hungry, I'd go blind for you
I'd go crawling down the aisle for you
There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on a rolling sea
Down the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
But you ain't seen nothing like me yet

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
Make you happy, make your dreams come true
To make you feel my love