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Should I die, this blog will serve as my son's source of virtual mama.

If I live, I won't have to repeat myself.

sigers writes fiction and nags her son in austin, texas. 

I want you to know how I became the mad mom. Or, how I started that cult that lives in the backyard.

I want you to know how I became the mad mom. Or, how I started that cult that lives in the backyard.

So this began on the Twitter (@FlyLibrarian), where I rant about a hodgepodge of stuff - motherhood, advertising, revenge, square-toed loafers and stuff. Mostly I just try to figure out how I can live my life like I’m Cindy Gallop. All of the awesome and the occasional dollop of … that other thing she’s known for.

DON’T GOOGLE THAT, BOY. IF I WANTED YOU TO KNOW, I WOULD HAVE MADE IT A LINK.

You have reached an age where you start trying on and absorbing so much of what’s around you. I have to be careful of your circle of influence. For example, if you watch a bunch of cartoons that are a little advanced for your age, I get a lot of smart ass ninja turtle responses like, "Chill out, mom-dude.“  

You are hyper-sensitive to all the emotions around you. You absorb them and play them back because you think that is what you are supposed to do.

It was bumming me out a little. This planting the seeds of a man thing is hard. And they say that this time until you are seven is key in establishing your values and adult mindset. What if I blow it? What if I forget something? WHY CAN’T I MAKE YOU STOP BITING YOUR TOENAILS IN KUNG FU CLASS? AND WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR YOUR FUTURE?

Then it hit me …

I persuade people to do stuff for a living. AND I’m a black man’s mama. Technically, I should have all the juice in the world when it comes to you.

Now being a Creative Director and momming are notoriously unfriendly to each other. But I’m gonna drag both into a room and force them to make nice. Or no pie after dinner.

I’m going to use what I know (advertising) to tamp down my fear of the unknown (parenting). In advertising, I can detach a little and focus on what needs to be done. In parenting, I’m all LAWD JESUS HOW AM I GOING TO GET HIM TO SIT HIS ASS DOWN FOR CIRCLE SHARING TIME? IT’S GODDAMN CIRCLE TIME, not ORBITING ELECTRON TIME. DO I HAVE TO SHOW UP AT SCHOOL AND STAPLE YOU TO THE FLOOR? 

Sometimes. Sometimes I’m like that.

Anyhoooo, I’m all excited about introducing you to your brand. I have even recruited a planner, (HAAAAAAAAI, PEARL!) because I’m a bit on the obsessive side. You are my focus group of one. I am going to use everything I know about influence to get you to stay true to your brand - the gentleman you’ll be when you’re 25.

I can’t wait to create your brand identity, do some research, get some briefs going and get started on some solutions.

I might even make you a logo.

Dude. You got THAT mom. You’re SCREWED.

The brand of my boy.

The brand of my boy.

I want you to know what people regret on their deathbeds.

I want you to know what people regret on their deathbeds.