As a dad, summer has always been my favorite season. It’s a break from the year’s hustle—school drop-offs, endless meetings, homework meltdowns, and rushed dinners. But it’s also a time when I start asking myself the same question every year: how do I make this summer count? How do I create memories with my kids that they’ll carry with them forever? This year, the answer came in an unexpected form: dirt, seeds, and a little plot of land at our local community garden.
It started one Saturday morning when my daughter brought home a flyer from the library. It was advertising volunteer plots at the community garden. At first, I brushed it off. Gardening? I didn’t know the first thing about it, and frankly, I wasn’t sure my kids would be interested in staring at vegetables growing all summer. But something about the idea kept tugging at me. Maybe it was the thought of stepping outside our screen-filled house or the simple act of doing something hands-on together. Either way, I signed us up—and it ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve made as a parent.
Building Something Together
Our first day at the garden was, well, chaotic. My kids, a seven-year-old daughter and a nine-year-old son, were less interested in the “big gardening plan” I had in mind and more interested in chasing bugs and digging random holes. I’ll admit, I was a little frustrated at first. But then I realized something: they were exploring. They were learning to love the space in their own way. So, I ditched the plan and joined them. We spent the first afternoon getting our hands dirty, flipping over rocks to find worms, and arguing over whether we should plant carrots or tomatoes. (We ended up planting both.)
The beauty of the garden is that it’s not just about the plants; it’s about the process. As the weeks went by, we figured out how to work as a team. My son loved watering the plants with a hose he wielded like a firefighter. My daughter quickly became obsessed with labeling our rows of seeds—her handwriting now decorates tiny wooden stakes that say “Basil” and “Zucchini.” And me? I learned to let go of the idea of perfection. The rows weren’t straight, and some seeds didn’t sprout, but we were building something together, and that was enough.
Lessons in Patience and Growth
If there’s one thing gardening teaches you, it’s patience. You can’t rush a tomato plant. You can’t make cucumbers grow faster no matter how hard you stare at them. For kids (and, honestly, for me), this was a big lesson. In a world of instant gratification, where everything from movies to meals is available at the push of a button, learning to wait for something to grow was a challenge—and a gift.
One morning, after what felt like weeks of nothing, we spotted tiny green sprouts poking through the soil. My daughter squealed, and my son immediately shouted, “I told you the carrots would grow first!” It was a simple moment, but it felt huge. Those little sprouts became a symbol for all the quiet work we’d done—digging, watering, weeding. It was proof that sometimes the best things take time.
From Garden to Table
One of the best parts of the experience was watching the garden come full circle. By mid-summer, our little plot was thriving. The tomato plants were heavy with fruit, bright green zucchini stretched out across the soil, and basil leaves filled the air with their sweet, herby scent. My kids were so proud they insisted we host a “garden dinner” for the family.
That night, we picked everything together. My daughter carried a basket like it was treasure, carefully placing each tomato inside. My son declared himself the “official zucchini picker” and wouldn’t let anyone else near the plants. Back at home, we made a feast: fresh tomato salad, grilled zucchini, and spaghetti with pesto made from our basil. It wasn’t a Michelin-star meal, but it was ours. Sharing something we grew together made it taste better than anything we could have ordered.
Lessons Beyond the Garden
What surprised me most about this experience wasn’t just what we learned about plants but what we learned about each other. The garden became a place where my kids and I connected in ways we hadn’t before. Without the distractions of phones or TVs, we talked more. Sometimes it was about the garden (“Why are bees so important?”), and sometimes it wasn’t (“Dad, why do people have middle names?”). The conversations were random and real, and they reminded me how curious and funny my kids are.
It also gave us a shared sense of responsibility. We had to show up, even on days when it was hot, or we were tired, because the plants depended on us. I watched my kids’ confidence grow as they took ownership of their roles. They weren’t just “helping Dad”; they were gardeners in their own right.
Connecting with the Community
The garden also introduced us to a community we didn’t know we needed. Other families were out there too, tending their plots and sharing advice. One couple taught us how to compost. An older man with a sun hat showed my kids how to tell when tomatoes were ready to pick. We even traded zucchini for strawberries with a family a few plots over. It was a reminder that sometimes the best connections happen when you’re not looking for them.
A Summer to Remember
As summer winds down, our time at the garden is coming to an end, but the memories we’ve made will stick with us. It turns out, that flyer my daughter brought home wasn’t just about gardening—it was about creating something bigger. It was about stepping out of our comfort zone, getting a little dirty, and finding joy in the simple things.
If you’re a dad looking for a way to connect with your kids, I can’t recommend it enough. You don’t need to be an expert gardener (trust me, I wasn’t). All you need is a willingness to try, a little plot of land, and some patience. The rest—just like the plants—will grow naturally.
This summer, we didn’t just grow vegetables; we grew together. And that, to me, is what being a dad is all about.
