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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. 

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We drove an hour to Sweetberry Farm in order for you to spend most of the time looking like NWA-era Ice Cube. You were all hopped up on Benadryl, looking like Friday-era Ice Cube. But somewhere in that tiny angry-looking body, I know that you were family-movie-era Ice Cube.