When I first found out about Queen Bee Custom Printing, I knew I had to do a giveaway. Not only is the owner Michelle super sweet and extremely talented but her business is located in my happy place…North Carolina!

MEET THE QUEEN……………..

I’m Michelle Snowden, founder of Queen Bee Custom Printing.  If you’re like me, you love seeing your name in print.  As a child, I cherished the pencils and notepads branded with my name.  I love giving a gift with a beautiful monogram.  In April 2008, my passion for all things personalized turned into a business, and here we are today! From my hive to yours, thank you for choosing Queen Bee for all your stationery needs!

In conjunction with this giveaway, Michelle sent me my very own personalized note cards and notepad. They’re so cute I feel inspired to break from my usual text and e-mail messages to actually send some personalized notes. I chose this adorable “Bubblegum” pattern but there are many others to choose from, you can pick whatever you want them to say (mine say “A Little Note From Cyndi”) and you get to choose your own font too:

She was also kind enough to send a set of everyday gift tags.  I love these because they are adorable and I don’t have to buy greeting cards for every kids’ birthday gift I buy (they don’t read them anyway). There are so many colors to choose from I’ll be set for kids’ birthday parties for a while:

Queen Bee Custom Printing also offers custom projects such as business cards, banners, invitations and flat note cards. 

THREE lucky winners will receive:

• 10 Folded Note Cards + 1 Matching Notepad (you select style) and 1 set of Everyday Gift Tags

How To Enter The Giveaway:

• Visit Queen Bee Custom Printing.

• Return here to leave a comment about what your favorite design is.

Additional Entries Available:

• Tweet a link to this giveaway and post the permalink of your tweet in the comments section of this post.

• Sign up for So Much More Than A Mom blog updates via e-mail HERE.

• Become a fan of Queen Bee Custom Printing’s Facebook page HERE.

• Become a fan of So Much More Than A Mom’s Facebook page HERE.

• Post a link on your own blog back to this giveaway and post your link in the comments section of this post.

Details:

• Contest ends at midnight (CDT) Thursday, March 25th 2010.

• US Residents only.

• My personal friends and family are not eligible to win (sorry!).

• Three winners will be chosen at random, notified on March 26th 2010 and will choose which styles and fonts they would like. Prizes will be shipped directly from Queen Bee Custom Printing once all the information has been provided by the winners.

Good luck and thanks for stopping by!

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The other side of 40. It looks much like 39 but without the burden that comes with the dread of turning 40. It’s just another day. It’s just a number.

The bonus of having such a milestone birthday fall on a Thursday is that we get to celebrate twice. No one wants to go out late on a weeknight. Well, at least no one my age. Last night the family and a few friends came over for a late dinner and cake. Tonight we’re going out with some friends to get our dinner and drink on.

Hubby has become incredibly intuitive as far as gift giving is concerned. I made no lists, requests or urgent pleas for anything in particular. Well, I did say that what I really, really, really wanted was tickets to the John Mayer concert in April but he said we can still do that and it doesn’t have to be my birthday present. How sweet is that?! In addition to the beautiful flowers and balloons that were waiting for me when I woke up, it’s clear from his gifts that he knew exactly what I need right now. To be pampered and feel pretty:

I can’t wait to get my massage on! It may be today. And I smell damn good if I do say so myself. Since we’re going out tonight I will get the rare opportunity to actually put on all my fab new make-up, wear clothes other than sweats and jammies and maybe even remind hubby that when made up I’m not too bad looking….for a 40 year old.

My sister and I never have any trouble finding the perfect gifts for each other despite our very different tastes. Well, there was that one time when she was in high school and I bought her the most adorable pink plaid sweater that she hated (she clearly had no taste…it was so cute!) but we steer clear of clothes these days. Being the tree-hugging-granola-crunching-cause-supporting person that she is, I was amazed by how she was able to pick out the perfect gifts for me while still supporting her causes.

With my upcoming trip to North Carolina in mind, she got me this awesome tote in sea green to put my books in when I hit the beach:

Along with the matching clutch, complete with a dollar bill in it for good fortune:

And this beautiful tea rose bookmark:

She also picked up some heavenly lavender/eucalyptus scented candles:

And the pièce de résistance:

That’s right bitches….Bitch Bubbly sparkling wine!! How fun and perfect is that?!

40? So far so good.

Thanks for stopping by!

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So it’s happened. I’m 40. All hell did not break loose. Not even part of it. I did not change my mind about how I feel about this milestone.

I have been reflecting on the past decade though. My youngest son was born the year I turned 30. I had a hard time with 30. I even warned people to watch out for 2010 because if my reaction to turning 30 was any indication, turning 40 was not going to be pretty at all. I now think that’s because I was secretly a mess. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m still a mess but it’s no longer a secret. That’s what I like to call progress.

One thought that has been recurring during my recent reflections is that I have made significant personal changes over the past decade, most over the past 3 years, but still feel….unsettled….unfinished. I’ve realized that I am unfinished and hope to stay that way for the rest of my life. It’s a good thing. To become set in my ways, stop learning, stop trying new adventures….that would be stagnating, suffocating, THAT would be getting old.

But the one thing I haven’t managed to change for the better in the past decade is my almost constant unacceptable level of anxiety. I am one high strung 40 year old broad. Enough already. As has been well documented on this blog it’s all based in fear, worry and lack of control. It’s time to take this seriously and work on taking things down a few hundred notches. IT (whatever IT is at any given moment) just isn’t that bad, worth my suffering or within my control. And so what? All hell may break loose but I certainly can’t stop it by being irritable, stressed out and upset. I can’t stop it at all. I need to focus on learning to roll with things sometimes, picking my battles and stopping my own anxiety before it reaches critical melt-down levels. So, that’s my project. Learning to relax and just chill out for once.

My blogging friend Christina pointed out that March 4th is the only date that is also a command. I love that! It’s fun. Through these wondrous interwebs I have also discovered that it’s my hometown Chicago’s birthday AND even better for this self-proclaimed grammar nazi, it’s also National Grammar Day!

The moral of this story: Bring it on…let hell break loose. Just don’t misspell anything.

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We went to the movies Saturday afternoon. On the way out I stopped in the restroom. When I emerged there was a woman talking to hubby and the boys. Her back was to me and I didn’t know who she was. I walked over to them and turned around. I’m not sure if I audibly gasped or if it was only in my head. It was a friend of ours from whom we haven’t heard in quite some time. Our boys no longer attend the same schools and the mutual friend we had shared is no longer in our lives. It also seemed as if our friend in the movie theater had sort of gone into hiding a little over a year ago. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

She’s always been a reserved and private person. We never got too close. But I like her. And I have thought of her often over the past year. I sent a few e-mails that went unanswered and heard other friends had the same experience. I finally just hoped for the best and figured she’d contact me if she wanted to.

She immediately commented that she liked the pink ribbon I was wearing on my coat. The pink ribbon that Gina’s daughters passed out to all the guests at her wake. I gasped (again not sure if it was audible or not), muttered an awkward, “thank you.” without explaining where I got my ribbon or what it represents to me, grabbed the ribbon and continued holding onto it for few moments before giving her a teary-eyed hug. I asked how she was and she said good. There was some small talk about the kids and her husband and then hubby was wrapping up the conversation. I looked into her eyes for a moment. I needed more.

I told hubby and the kids to go on and I’d catch up in a minute. I had to know. She certainly looked healthy and her hair looked much like it had the last time I saw her, before her diagnosis. I asked about the cancer and her treatment. She had chemo, then a lumpectomy, then radiation and has been cancer-free since December! I was so happy for her and her family. I had to hug her again, although I know she’s even less of a touchy-feely person than I usually am. I told her how happy I was for her. We talked some more about how it’s been an “interesting” year but that the worst seems to be behind her, she feels good and is going to start looking for work. She has to stay on medication for five years and get frequent scans but so far so good.

I was awe-struck. I was standing there talking to an actual breast cancer survivor. It felt great, exhilarating even. Like I imagine talking to one of your favorite celebrities would feel. Her kids will not have to know what it feels like to lose their mother so young. Her husband will not be left alone to pick up the pieces. She can move on with her life. Absolutely amazing.

We finally parted and after I was a safe distance from her and back with my family, I lost it. Sobbing. They didn’t understand. It hit me like a ton of bricks. If things had gone differently, that could have been Gina.

An innocent afternoon at the movies with my family turned into this unbelievable encounter with a survivor.

In all fairness, her prognosis was never as dicey as Gina’s had been because she did not have the same type of breast cancer. Gina’s was the worst case scenario.

My emotions were all over the place. An almost giddy happiness for my friend and her family combined with the intense grief in knowing I will never run into Gina in a movie theater. And then the guilt. Guilt for feeling sad for one friend when another friend had beaten the odds and was thriving. An entire roller coaster of emotion within a ten minute time period.

This grief “process” is more like a relative calm before the storm immediately followed by the crashing in of an epic tidal wave with no warning.

I miss my friend.

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I’ve put this post off long enough. I’m turning 40 in about two weeks. 40.

Remember when 30 seemed ancient?! My mother-in-law was 40 when I met my husband. She didn’t seem old to me but she certainly didn’t seem young. She seemed like any other mom. Today she’s 64. For me, those 24 years seem to have flown by in a flash. We spend our entire childhood wishing time would speed up and our adult years wishing it would slow down. It’s so….well, weird.

I actually already wrote the I’m-dreading-turning-40 post. Last year. As I said then, I like to start the inevitable panic attack as early as possible. I think that it helped writing about it a year in advance. I think I may have actually come to terms with it. With everything that I feel anxious about just about every day, this milestone isn’t really one of them. Or maybe I’m just in denial. I guess we’ll find out for sure in about two weeks.

As much as I really don’t want to seem like any other mom, I’m sure I do to my kids and their friends. I think my kids think I’m pretty cool as far as moms go, but still, I’m mom. Of course I relish my role as their mom but as is the main theme of this blog….I am also so much more than a mom. Knowing that helps me to ignore the number of candles on the birthday cake.

It seems to me that beginning with that first unfortunate event in December 2006 and ending with the most recent unfortunate event almost exactly three years later, I’ve come full circle. The death of my friend’s mother in 2006 forced me to consider my own mortality. That, in conjunction with the events in between these two pulled me out of denial, made me re-evaluate myself, my marriage, every belief I have ever had and what the hell I had allowed myself to become. The past three years have been spent dealing with the past, learning, questioning, stepping out of my comfort zone, reinventing myself, reinventing my marriage and striving to figure out who I am and who I want to be. And then going for it. I have set-backs and then take giant leaps forward. All of these changes have cured my insomnia but brought on depression, at first, and now anxiety. I’m not finished with my journey and I never will be. The reason I feel I’ve come full circle is that the most recent unfortunate event, Gina’s death, has forced me to seriously consider not my own mortality this time, but the mortality of everyone I love.

After the ups and downs of the past three years I don’t find myself dreading my 40th birthday so much. I find myself feeling grateful that I’ve made it to my 40th birthday in good health (knock on wood). I’m grateful that my friends and family are also here and in good health. Money problems, anxiety, college, work, laundry….life…they’re all part of my life but the important people in my life are really what matters most. I’m lucky. I’m still here with them.

Forty isn’t that old. I’m not too old to love, laugh, learn, travel, go to college, have fun, make changes, be naughty, be a good mom and wife, work out…the list is endless. I have lots to do. The only things I’m too old wise for are living in denial, wishful thinking, delusion and pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m not 21. Who cares? I was a moron at 21. I’m slightly less of one now and for that, and every day I am given, I am grateful. So…40? I’m not scared…Bring it!

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I’m not talking about actual panic attacks. I’ve come close to having one of those a couple of times and it’s a horrible feeling. But it’s been quite some time since I’ve felt that level of anxiety. I guess you could say that’s progress, right? RIGHT?!

My overall level of anxiety has been high ever since before Thanksgiving when Gina’s health started to deteriorate. In late December I took a risk by changing jobs. I realize that under usual circumstances changing jobs is not a huge risk but in this economy and in the mortgage industry…it was a risk. Then, just a few weeks later I started my dreaded statistics class.

There are certainly worse things that could have happened (besides Gina’s death of course). I think the combo of adjusting to my friend’s death, a very different type of job and a class that I not only hate, but is extremely difficult for me to grasp, was a bit much for me.

I still haven’t adjusted to Gina’s death. Yesterday her sister mentioned on Facebook that she could really use some advice from her sister. I could only respond, “me too”. I am reminded of her absence several times daily. I miss everything about her and our friendship. I still haven’t even stopped thinking from time to time that I have to call her and tell her about something that I know she would laugh about. I try to keep it in perspective. I mean if I feel this way I can’t imagine how her family, particularly her daughters feel. Then I feel guilty for missing her.

The job has been an adjustment just because the way things are set up is like nowhere else I have ever worked. I work from home now. The problem is not working from home. That I love. There was just a scary period there where I wasn’t sure it was going to work out and I wasn’t making as much money as I anticipated. Then I felt guilty for not making enough money. Luckily, the work situation is now going even better than expected. I kept telling myself that it was just growing pains but that did nothing to help my level of anxiety.

Stats. Sucks. I hate it. I don’t fully understand it. At this point I’ll be happy if I’m passing. We had our first test yesterday. I was even more anxious than usual over that test all day. Then I felt guilty for not being good enough at stats.

Are you seeing the pattern here? When I feel guilt I become anxious. And I feel guilty about almost everything. I know I’m not perfect and that no one expects me to be (except maybe myself). I know that perfectionism, worrying and anxiety don’t help any situation. I know that I’ve even written similar blog posts on this subject. Actually, now I’m starting to feel guilty about being repetitive and boring you to death.

This guilt thing is nonsense. I have to knock it off. I have to let myself off the hook. It’s causing me unnecessary turmoil. It’s not working for me at all, it never has and it never will. Beer helps but then I feel guilty for drinking too much. It’s too bad I can’t have the guilt/anxiety parts of my brain removed. I’d feel no emotional turmoil but without any guilt I’d become a criminal and end up in prison and I’m told they don’t serve beer there.

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Being the grammar nazi that I am, I must preface this post by pointing out that there is no “m” in the word valentine. Yes, there are still intelligent, educated adults who pronounce this word, “valentime”. It drives me insane. With that PSA out of the way, on with the post….

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I probably sound like a bitter old married woman in saying that. I get it. I do. Back in the day when hubby and I were still dating we celebrated every year. For those of you who really get into it…more power to you. To each his/her own.

One year long ago there was a huge snow storm on Valentine’s Day. We hadn’t planned ahead and made reservations. I secretly did not want to get all dressed up in a sexy skirt and heels, go out into the horrible weather and then wait 2 hours for a bad table at a chain restaurant. This was my first clue that this holiday actually means very little to me. I would have much preferred to just stay home.

There was another year where our on-again, off-again dating relationship was headed in the direction of off-again. Neither of us were feeling particularly romantic but diligently went out on Valentine’s Day because it’s what couples should do. It was awkward and not at all romantic.

I wanted to know where this Hallmark holiday originated and was surprised that it did not originate with Hallmark and to find this little statistic:

Approximately 85 percent of all valentines are purchased by women.
- The History Of Valentine’s Day

It seems that we always think the men should do something special for their partners on this day but it’s actually women buying the vast majority of the cards. Odd. Maybe the men are just buying lingerie. Yeah, that’s for their partners.

Anyway, back to why I don’t like it. It ranks #2 on my list of least favorite obligatory holidays (mother’s day being #1) for many reasons.

First of all, the absurd amount of commercialism surrounding this “holiday” truly rivals that of the whole Christmas season. Singles are made to feel unloved and unlovable for not having anyone to be romantic with. And who said a heart shaped box full of candy is romantic anyway? The worst part…pink and red…these colors do NOT belong together. They clash. Has no one else noticed this, seriously?! Babies with arrows…creepy.

Also, what if on the prescribed day hubby is not feeling particularly romantic? What if I am PMS-ing or otherwise cranky? What if we have other pressing things to do that day? What if we’re just in one of the low-tide places that naturally occur within the ebb and flow of a marriage? I could go on and on but you get the point. Just because we aren’t feeling particularly romantic on February 14th of any given year, does that make us a “bad” couple? Does that mean we’ve lost that loving feeling, we are unromantic or don’t care about our relationship? Of course not!

I would much rather receive an impromptu date invitation, flowers or perfume on any other day of the year. Why? Because then it’s spontaneous, from the heart and truly thoughtful plus much more meaningful. On February 14th it’s an obligation. Any other day it’s a loving gesture.

Hubby feels the same way I do about it. So, we agreed years ago, to simply ignore this obligatory nonsense. In fact this year we’re having dinner at my mother’s house. It was not planned that way intentionally. We’ve been trying to accept her offer for a Sunday dinner for weeks but have had other plans. A few weeks ago we confirmed the Sunday after the Super Bowl and none of us even realized that was V-Day. It doesn’t get more romantic than that.

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When my friend Gina was first diagnosed with cancer her biggest concern was that she would die before her twin daughters turned 18. She was afraid that their biological father would take them away from everything she had worked so hard to provide: stability and love, their home, their step-father and their little sister. Throughout her battle with cancer I never once heard her complain about herself, the treatments or anything else. Her mantra never changed. She simply had to stay alive until the twins were 18. She knew she could not fall short of this because the consequences for her daughters were too horrific for her to even consider.

Her worst nightmares have come true.

Last week, less than two months after losing their mother, their biological father abruptly removed them from their school in the upscale suburb in which they have lived for more than 1/2 of their lives. He has taken them to the home of the most recent woman he is living with in a rough neighborhood. He has told them that their mother never loved them and only wanted his money. He has cut them off from all of their family and told them they will never see their step-father or little sister again. He has not even bothered to enroll them in school.

I don’t know what precipitated any of this. I do know that the girls are terrified and cut off from everyone they love, everything that is familiar and safe to them and all while still grieving the very recent death of their mother.

Her sister said it best, “Gina is counting on all of us to fix this.”.

I don’t know how to fix this. All I do know is that getting the word out through my blog may lead us to someone who can help. There is a court hearing next week in DuPage County IL. If anyone reading this knows anyone or knows someone who may know anyone that can help my friend’s daughters (attorneys, advocates, etc.) PLEASE leave a comment here.

Thank you.

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I’ve spent the better part of the past two years learning about myself. I’ve focused on my insecurities, my self-defeating behaviors, my dark side, my playful side, my roles and how I relate to others. During this time, as has been well documented here, I also went through a marital separation, marriage counseling and ultimately reconciliation. Through that all though, my focus has been on my part in the problems we had and what I need and want. It sounds selfish I know. It was, and still is, necessary for me to continue to understand myself. A lifetime spent ignoring myself didn’t work out so well and was one of the biggest reasons for the derailment of my marriage in the first place.

I believe a new phase is upon me now. I have begun to re-integrate focusing on my husband’s wants and needs in addition to my own. I didn’t notice until recently that I was so terrified of falling back into old codependent patterns of people-pleasing that I almost completely stopped focusing on him. Again I think this was necessary for me to do as part of my own process but it is now safe to at least dip my foot back into the pool of focusing on others sometimes, specifically my husband.

It is not as if he has been completely ignored. He hasn’t. But in my quest to stop my own insanity I also stopped analyzing him. That is a good thing because it became extremely unhealthy for me to be constantly trying to guess what he wanted or needed and then attempting to provide that to him without his asking or even his consent. There is a happy medium though. I know he will tell me what he wants or needs directly these days. But sometimes picking up on things that are not directly expressed can lead to better understanding and communication, without becoming a codependent, people-pleasing nightmare. He has taught me that.

He has pointed out to me on many occasions when I am falling back into old patterns of destructive behavior when I was clueless that I was doing so. He notices when I am anxious and questions me until I figure out and communicate what is bothering me. He sees better than I do when I need to get out of the house and just have some mindless fun. He supports my every decision, even when there is not yet evidence that the decision has been a good one. He is more intuitive than I ever imagined. He gets me. He knows me. Warts and all. And for some reason he still likes me. I’d even go so far as to say that he likes me even more now than he ever did before our separation.

I’ve read two very different books about marriage in the past couple of weeks. They are An Unfinished Marriage by Joan Anderson (thanks to my friend Jess!) and Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage by Elizabeth Gilbert. Joan Anderson took a year off to find herself and wrote about that in a book I have yet to read called A Year by the Sea: Thoughts of an Unfinished Woman. Without having read this first book I can’t say for sure but from what I gathered from reading her other book is that she lost herself in her roles of wife and mother much as I had. She took a year off to find herself just as Elizabeth Gilbert had in Eat, Pray, Love. Both of these authors went through periods of significant introspection after realizing that they did not know themselves much like I did. Unfortunately I didn’t have either of their budgets so I didn’t take a year off or travel extensively but the basics are similar.

Just as Eat, Pray, Love had a major impact on my thinking about myself, these two books about marriage have also had a major impact on my thinking about my marriage. I highly recommend reading these two books back to back. Joan Anderson’s story is told from the perspective of a woman of retirement age whose children are adults. Elizabeth Gilbert’s is told from the perspective of a woman who married the wrong man because she thought it was what she was supposed to do, has never wanted children, went through a nasty divorce and is faced with the decision to remarry despite having sworn off marriage altogether. These two diverse perspectives from women who have had such similar experiences are priceless.

Just as I learned there are no shoulds for me personally, there are none for marriage either. My husband and I are free to create our own personal definition of what our marriage looks like. We are also free to change that definition anytime we like. I don’t have to be a people-pleaser in order for us to be happy. In fact that has the opposite effect. I just need to be myself and so does he. Our whole dynamic has changed considerably since our separation and it continues to evolve daily. He surprises me on a regular basis these days. I continue to struggle with my own process but he seems to really have come into his own. It is ok for me to lean on him from time to time and vice versa. It is ok for us to maintain our own identities and in fact, this strengthens our relationship. In many ways we have switched places and continue to flip-flop in our different roles as spouses and parents. It’s all ok. It’s really as if we are different people today and despite the fact that we have known each other for almost 24 years, we continue to get to know each other as we change, grow and evolve as individuals, as a couple and as a family. Marriage is what we make it and I am beginning to realize how exciting, fun and fulfilling it can be. I can’t wait to find out where we are headed next.

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Hi. My name is Cyndi and I have a problem. Facebook. To be honest I also have problems with twitter, e-mail, texting, google reader and multiple other online distractions, not to mention multiple offline addictions. Don’t judge.

I’ve seen the following canned (Who writes these things anyway?  Is there some sweatshop somewhere?) Facebook status update a few times over the past several weeks:

WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA! Press 1 for English. Press 2 to disconnect until you learn to speak English. And remember— only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, JESUS CHRIST and the AMERICAN SOLIDER. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom. If you agree… copy and paste in your status

 This one doesn’t make any sense to me. I don’t understand what the first *ahem* sentiment has to do with the second. So, I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when someone I know well posted this as her status. She has been my go-to person for all questions related to Christianity for years. I felt comfortable that asking her about it would not offend her as she is aware that I am a heathen and therefore prone to asking the tough questions, which I did:

I don’t understand this…would Jesus disconnect anyone who doesn’t speak English?

 I admittedly do not know everything there is to know much at all about Christianity or organized religion in general. I am pretty sure I’ve got the basics of Christianity down. I know for certain that one of the more common Christian ideologies is, “Do unto others as you would have others do unto you.” [Matthew 7:12]. (You’re impressed that I knew the book and verse aren’t you? I love The Internets.) The good old golden rule.

Is it really that offensive to be offered the option of pressing “2″?  And if so, why? If I were in a foreign country and I had to contact some wretched call center for any reason I would be delighted to have the option (even if it was #7 or #212) to reach someone who speaks English. Do unto others, right? Isn’t the truly offensive action in this scenario the fact that you have to contact a call center at all? I’m fairly certain that the concept of the call center originated in hell and that Jesus does not like them anymore than we do. We all know as soon as we dial the number that we will be placed into that dreaded loop of options, excessive hold times and finally will be transferred to someone in another country who will tell us in English that whatever we are asking for is not going to happen and we are just screwed, thankyouverymuch.

My personal favorite canned Facebook update makes much more sense to me. In fact I think whoever came up with it should win some sort of online Facebook-status-writing award or something. It’s as if whoever penned this sentiment somehow knows me and was able to express, much better than I ever could, what I truly feel in my heart and soul:

Please put this on your status if you know someone (or are related to someone) who is an idiot. Idiots affect the lives of everyone. There is still no known cure for stupidity, but we can raise awareness …… 93% wont Copy and Paste this, many because they’re too stupid to know how to copy and paste. Will YOU make this your status for at least one hour?

Thanks for stopping by!

Related Reading:

Call Center Management on Fast Forward: Succeeding in Today's Dynamic Inbound Environment

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops?

Napalm & Silly Putty

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