Permission to succeed

“You’ve given yourself permission not to fail. Now, my dear, you need to give yourself permission to succeed.”

My father brushed a cool hand over my hair and gave me a knowing look with his dark stormy sea blue eyes. “Everyone believes in you except you.”

“I don’t…” I tried to speak.

“No. You do. YOU DO.”

A pathetic yelp entered the air. We looked over to where my kids were brushing burrs out of the dog.

“They believe in you,” said my dad. He went over to his grandkids and left me lingering. I took a smallish blue Grueby pot that my husband had left on the table into my hands. We both love arts and crafts pottery, even after all these years. It was plain yet beautiful. Classic and smooth. Maybe I am like that pot, classic, smooth, simplicity with beauty. Or I can try.

Dear old Dad came back. “Sweet child of mine,” he said with just a hint of an accent of far off England.

“I’m fine Dad. Really.”

“Tonight is a full moon. I know how the Werewolves seem to be attracted to you. You need to watch yourself.”

“I don’t plan on going out. But I know how to handle them. Remember, you taught your children well.”

“As well as a Vampire can.”

“As well as any parent can. You’re the best.”

He smiled and gave me a hug.

That was all I needed to be sure.


~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman






Friends and Family and Frustration

Obbie – short for Obsidian Reed, the second person I turned into a Vampire. My mother never approved. Then again she doesn’t approve of much of anything I do.

I don’t want to be like my own mother.

She was there and sacrificed for us but she never understood who her children were.

She wasn’t someone I could look up to. She wasn’t someone I wanted to be or be like. Granted she is brilliant and accomplished but she is cold. I know, cold isn’t a bad thing if you’re a Vampire, but it just isn’t my cup of blood.

Don’t get me wrong, there was no abuse, no horrible unspeakable things, just nothing in common with her younger children. No understanding of who they were or who they wanted to be. She could never understand. It is the way she is wired.

She is lovely and all the Vampires adore her…

When she calls I cringe. I was having a good day, then her voice. Then negativity. Never asking me how I’m doing or what I think.

My brother Val marvels at how our mother can put a negative spin on anything.

Things are ok, but I don’t want to be that kind of mother for my own children. I’m not that kind of mother. I want to shower them with feelings of joy.

I must watch to make sure I don’t become that woman… the one who finds negativity in everything. I don’t want to be judging my children. Of course my mother never judges my children, only the younger three of her five children, the three who in my opinion are doing the best. We’re the most boring and non-vampirish of her brood – that is in her opinion, which is the only opinion in her world.

She adores her grandchildren. The grandchildren get all the trash talk about their parents,  my brother Aaron (the only other sibling with children) and me. No use asking her to stop. The kids are old enough to think it is hilarious.

You know, I’m talking care of my kids, my marriage, my job plus the elders and my siblings messes so I don’t need anyone to give me advice. I’m handing it all as best as I can, which is better than most.

So the other day I was trying to decompress from a phone call my old friend Obbie showed up at my door like a bright and shining moonbeam.

“You’re always doing interesting things with Samantha.” Obbie tells me. “She isn’t that bad. At least you have a mom.”

“I just wish…”

He smiled with his charming Vampire-next-door way. “You think about it too much.”

Maybe I do. There comes a time when we all have things we just have to let go of and accept – even if it takes 100 years or so.

It would be a busy night. Obbie and I took my kids out to see the Elders, two ancient Vampires who often are in need of company and help with little things. They are frustrating, the ancient ones, but always so sweet and loving. They look at the world through a crystal that shines many colors. They understand me. As much as I can, I understand them as well.

Obbie also understands me as only a dear friend can. Family is important but there are some things that only our friends “get” about us. They know us in a different way, a new way that isn’t out of a sense of obligation or blood.

The first time I met Obbie was at an art show in 1889. We started to talk and talked and laughed all night. About a week later he said, “I wish this could last forever.” I told him it could. My mother did not approve. But that’s ok. Obbie adores her and I guess… well that is just weird, but that’s ok. Most things in my life are weird. And you know, sometimes weird is good.


Have a good week everyone.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman