Tulip Field Fantasy

Before all things went to hell in a hand basket there was this moment when I managed to get one of the boys to stand still long enough for a quick snapshot before he ran off with his brother to wreck destruction on a good number of tulips. I'm certain, given the number of children at the tulip picking field, the farmers factor this into their overhead but their mother wasn't too happy with their behavior.  Being a grandmother I get to shine these kinds of things on somewhat, though I helped with the roundup and parceled out my share of hairy eyeballs to the miscreants.

Tulip Field Fantasy © Lissa Banks 2018

William loves all things nature. He will caress a newfound earthworm friend, gorges on kale straight from my vegetable garden and giggles with delight at kittens and puppies, newborn lambs and strutting chickens. And of course, there was that night we were all eating lobster that created for him his first existential crisis. So although he hardly stood still long enough to have noticed a single monarch that day, I imagined him surrounded by them in that moment of innocence...before the downfall.

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The Joys of Grandparenthood

Being a parent is an awesome task. I remember days, and nights, that I thought it might just kill me. And others when I knew my children saved my life, and sanity.

Surviving my children's childhoods, teenage years, putting them through college and the mute witnessing of their coming into adulthood was both painful and a privilege. A privilege I wouldn't trade for all the riches in the world. We parents are masochists like that.

But the single best perk of having made it through thus far has been being a grandmother.

Joy © Lissa Banks 2018

Experiencing the growing up of little persons without midnight feedings, crushing exhaustion, bee stings, cranky teachers, sullen teenagers and broken hearts lends one a perspective on their development I seem to have forgotten, or maybe I was too busy trying to juggle it all to notice, when my children were little.

I've seen my grandchildren take tentative not quite first steps, try to figure out where to put their tongues in their mouths to say "hello" and I've been the grateful recipient of countless hugs, snuggles and sloppy kisses. Pure joy. And to watch those little ones laugh themselves silly over absolutely nothing brings me to my knees. I adore these little varmints with every inch of my being. They are worth every ding in my baseboards, every broken glass, every lost moment I spend with them. Even without the laughter, they are pure joy.

I invite you to visit my website where you can sign up to receive now and again emails that will keep you up to date with where I’m showing, when I post these musings, and when I am offering special sales and promotions! My site is secure and I PROMISE never to sell your information.

  For more about my work follow me on Facebook or visit my website Lissa Banks Paintings to learn how to purchase an original. You can purchase prints for sale at  FineArtAmerica.com.

Reflections

I'd only been living here a short time. My neighbors had mentioned that the town's Community Day might be a fun outing for my grandson.

There were musicians, dancers, hot dogs, a bouncy house, 4-H animals, and a small-gauge train ride. But the best thing of all was seeing the stunned look in the eyes of my not quite two-year-old grandson as he gazed up at the massive trucks on display by the town's Department of Public Works. Did he want to get up into the cab? Oh yeah.

James and the Big Truck © Lissa Banks 2014

The carnival noise faded away. Voices softened as the wind breezed through the open windows a good seven feet off the ground. James's feet barely made it to the end of the seat, let alone the floor. He sat back and looked off to the distance, immobilized by his dreams. His face a reflection of his thoughts. We gave him a good long time to get his fill. And to blow the horn.

But there were more trucks to climb into, a firetruck to see, goats to pet. All good stuff whether you're  not quite two years old, or not.


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Reality Check

We sat knee to knee in the living room checkered by Christmas presents and plastic bags full of wrappings when she coyly announced that he was taking her to a romantic inn in Maine for New Years. I wondered if she'd come back with a bit of gold wrapped around her left ring finger. Indeed she did.

A few weeks later my son asked if I'd be able to sit for the boys come August. The wedding to be in Jamaica, not child friendly. Confident that with an expert helper by my side I'd survive, I said yes.

Summer Boys © 2014 Lissa Banks

Fast forward to August. Four nights and five days full of Cheerios, diapers, kiddie pool splashing, tricycle riding, playground excursions, bumped knee kisses, emptied towel drawers, brotherly swipes, baths, more diapers, hummus sandwiches, ice cream making, Lego building, water coloring, turtle hunting and stories before sleep did not go by in a flash. Indeed, there were times I was sure they would never end. But end they did.

I am so glad for that time, exhaustion was gladly paid for the opportunity to be a mother again to two such small and wonderful creatures. And equally glad to have this image as a memory of those summer days.


  For more about my work follow me on Facebook or visit my website Lissa Banks Paintings.