Don’t be like me

I frequently tell my kids “don’t be like me.”

I was thinking that as I stood in front of my washing machine trying to get blood and asphalt stains out of my favorite white shirt. I swear, I will never go out for dinner in white again.

Aside from that nothing ever goes quite right or the way it should in my world. Passwords don’t work. Electronics blow up. I become invisible when I need to be seen. I lose everything. I forget everything. I frustrate the hell out of myself at all times.

The one thing I do well is parenting. THAT is one thing I do well because I have no other choice. It is my responsibility to make sure I don’t bring jerks into the world. I also don’t want them to be like me. And while my mistakes follow me like rabid howler monkeys, my children will learn from my mistakes. They will also learn to learn from their own mistakes.

Alright, it isn’t that bad, but one more destroyed shirt just puts me in a bad mood. Plus the fact that it my own stupidity…anyway…

I tell my kids to be like me in the following ways:

Have my sense of humor.

Wear lip gloss (for Clara, not you Garrett.) Light colors look good and take off the Vampire edge.

Wear black.

Adopt shelter animals, but only when you are settled down a bit. Don’t adopt an animal you have to bring back to Mom and Dad to take care of.

 

It isn’t easy being Juliette. So I tell my kids not to be like me.

This is what I tell them.

Brooding. It is hard enough being a Vampire. Try not to brood. I wasted far too many hours in my youth brooding. The same goes for angst. No angst kids. It won’t help with anything and it won’t make you happy.

Smile. Seriously I wish I’d done more of this when I was younger.

Stand tall.

Act like you have power even when you don’t.

Believe in yourself.

Open slammed doors. Pry them open with your cold dead hands.

Learn French and Italian and Spanish. Just because.

Don’t take anything personally. It is all personal but don’t let them know that you know.

When rejection overwhelms you keep trying. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts keep trying. Even if your fangs hurt and you feel your blood getting warm just keep trying.

Organize. Please do this. Please.

Find your spot.

Don’t let others get you out of your spot.

Fight for your spot.

Keep away from those who dwell in crypts. You don’t need any of their BS. Let them deal with the spiders and crawly bugs with a zillion legs. You don’t need them. Plus they smell bad.

Those of the opposite sex can and will lie to you.

Keep your passion.

Live your passion.

Don’t listen to anyone who wants to stop your passion.

Speak up.

If you love him/her just say it. Either way you’re going to lose them, but you might not.

Write down your passwords (correctly.)

 

The washer is running. I think I’ll be able to save my shirt. Now I have to deal with other weirdness. Have fun.

And I’m fine. Things will continue to break, splat, get lost and go bump in the night. That is OK. It really is.

 

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

 

 

 

 

 

5 thoughts on “Don’t be like me

  1. Hey now! Not ALL crypts smell bad, go uncleaned for decades, or should be assumed infested with creepy-crawly critters. Where you sleep doesn’t have to be where you live — especially when you have plenty of nice rooms to occupy above it during waking hours.

  2. “….. nothing ever goes quite right or the way it should in my world. Passwords don’t work. Electronics blow up. I become invisible when I need to be seen. I lose everything. I forget everything. I frustrate the hell out of myself at all times.”
    Sounds like my everyday routine, J. …and those are my good days !!! 🙂

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