🌱 For the Littles — Part I of 4, a Seasonal Garden Series

🌱 Winter Garden Beginnings: Seeds, Vegetables & Learning to Love What We Grow

Winter may still hold the earth in her cold, quiet slumber, but beneath the frozen ground, life is already dreaming, already stirring toward Spring’s imminent arrival. This dreaming is where the garden truly begins.

This week’s invitation is simple — and perhaps a little playful:

Let’s go on a vegetable-eating adventure. 😄 Yes — really.

Not in a forceful, “finish your plate” kind of way, but in a way that feels curious and adventurous. Because how we speak about food, how we model curiosity, and how we invite our children into the process is what transforms vegetables from something “we have to eat” into something joyful, alive, and delicious.

Children rarely learn to love vegetables from lectures or rules. They don’t just listen to what we say — they mirror what we do.

If I had a dollar for every time a curious parent or shocked grandparent asked how I “made” my boys eat their vegetables — and go back for second and third helpings — I’d be set for life. But the truth is, I never made them do anything. Instead, I didn’t give them all the other choices that many parents offer their kids. We didn’t have cupboards filled with sugary processed foods. They simply didn’t know any different, and they ate what was placed in front of them because they were involved in the process of growing, picking, and foraging much of what they were fed.

Our littles learn from what they see modeled, from what feels exciting, and from the stories we wrap around food. When we speak about food with curiosity, excitement, and wonder, something shifts.

And if you are an adult who grew up with a negative orientation toward vegetables — canned vegetables and fruit, frozen peas pushed around a plate, or parents who simply didn’t enjoy them — this post is for the little in you, too.

If we wrinkle our noses at greens or speak about vegetables like a chore, our littles feel that energy long before they hear our words.

But when vegetables become part of an adventure — seeds saved from dinner, tiny sprouts appearing on a windowsill, the earth under our fingernails — something shifts.

Food becomes a relationship.
Growing food becomes an adventure.
Eating becomes participation.

And picky eating often softens — not through pressure, but through the child’s involvement in the process.

When children help grow something, they want to taste it — not because they were told to, but because they were part of its becoming.

Exploring fresh vegetables together becomes its own language of nourishment, and through parenthood, we are given the chance to begin again — learning, growing, and rediscovering wonder alongside our children.

🌿 Farmers Markets, Local Farm Stands & CSA Adventures

Even in Winter, there is so much we can do.

Before planting a single seed, we begin by noticing. Before we ever plant a garden, we begin by meeting the people who grow our food — the hands that tend the soil long before it reaches our table.

Who are the farmers in your community?

A wonderful resource for finding local options is localharvest.org, where you can explore:

• Farmers Markets
• Local Roadside Farm Stands
• CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) Programs

Visit your local farmers market if one is open nearby — many hold Winter hours. When you’re out running errands and stumble upon a farm stand, allow yourself to slow down and explore. You may find eggs, dairy, baked goods, canned goodies, and fresh vegetables — and perhaps even see the chickens who laid the eggs wandering the land happily.

Some local farms offer CSA memberships, where families receive a weekly box of seasonal fruits, vegetables, and handmade goods. When my children were little, we joined a CSA at Live Earth Organic Farm just down the road from our home, and Farmer Tom quickly became our local farm superhero. It was a blessing in more ways than I can count.

Each week brought not only beautiful produce but also community celebrations, invitations to walk the land, visit animals, and feel the rhythm of the farm itself. I always recommend a CSA to families beginning their gardening journey — it’s a gentle way to explore new foods, learn recipes, and connect with the people who grow what we eat.

Every Thursday at our home became Farm Share pick-up day. My three littles would light up with excitement — walking the fields, collecting eggs, visiting baby goats, climbing trees, playing in hay-bale forts, searching for frogs around the pond, feeding Peanut the horse carrot tops, and snacking on berries while laughter echoed across the land.

There is something deeply grounding about seeing children return home happily tired — dirt under their nails, berry-stained cheeks, eyes bright with wonder. Those evenings, bath time, and bedtime flowed easily, and the memories still warm my heart.

When our littles see vegetables as living things — planted with care and growing from the earth — something shifts. They begin to feel a quiet connection to the seasons, to the land, and to the farmers who nourish their community.

Let children see vegetables in their real form — colorful, imperfect, fresh, and alive. And when it comes time to plant your own garden together, they will be excited and happy to help, learn, and play.

Bring home a new vegetable to try. Normalize trying new things.

Ask gently:

What color is it?
What does it smell like?
What does it remind you of?

Because the inspiration for your first garden does not begin in soil.

It begins with curiosity.

🌿 Saving Seeds: Discovering What We Love to Eat

You don’t need warm soil to begin a garden.

Sometimes the first seeds are saved right in the middle of winter, tucked between everyday meals and quiet kitchen moments.

Every time you cook, there is an invitation to pause and say:

“Look — this is where next year’s garden begins.”

Tomatoes.
Peppers.
Squash.
Melons.

Place seeds gently on a paper towel and let them dry completely. Later, slip them into a jar and label them together. Let your littles feel like caretakers of tiny future food forests, holding tomorrow’s harvest in their small hands.

Something shifts when children see that food doesn’t simply appear — it begins as something small, patient, and full of possibility.

Before planning a garden, we begin with a simple question:

What do you love to eat?

If your littles say pizza, smile and follow the thread.

“What a beautiful idea — we can grow tomatoes and basil for pizza sauce, bell peppers and zucchini for toppings.”

My children loved salad, so our garden often held rows of greens, cucumbers, carrots, radishes, and sweet Sungold cherry tomatoes.

For me, the list includes blueberries, dinosaur kale, eggplant, sugar snap peas, garlic, and hot peppers destined for homemade salsa.

Pull out colored pencils and paper. Invite each family member to draw their vision of the garden-to-be.

Ask softly:
“What do you think this seed will become?”

And along the way, introduce a little botanical magic:

Is this a vegetable… or a fruit?

Tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and eggplants are technically fruits because they carry seeds, while leafy greens and roots tend to be true vegetables.

Children delight in these tiny revelations. Suddenly, the garden feels like a secret world waiting to unfold — a mystery they are helping to solve.

🌿 Companion Planting — Why Carrots Love Tomatoes

Now that every family member has sketched out a garden, we can begin crafting a layout that incorporates ideas from each person’s vision. As the dreaming takes shape, another layer of wonder appears: companion planting.

One of my favorite gardening books is Carrots Love Tomatoes, and it beautifully explains how certain plants help one another thrive.

Some plants attract beneficial insects.
Some improve the soil.
Some provide shade or protection.

It’s a reminder that gardens are communities — living ecosystems that flourish when the right conditions are nurtured.

Just like families.
Just like us.

When we teach our littles about companion planting, we’re really teaching them about relationships:

Who grows well together?
Who helps whom?
How does balance create abundance?

🌿 Teaching Our Children How to Have a Healthy Relationship With Food

I’ve heard many people speak about food addiction, sugar addiction, overeating, or emotional eating as a form of comfort that becomes difficult to release. Each of us receives a unique orientation to food — shaped by childhood, culture, and what was modeled around us. As parents, we hold a momentous opportunity to help our children build a balanced relationship with nourishment.

In our home, we gently defined foods into three simple categories: Healthy, Unhealthy, and Toxic — not as rigid rules, but as guiding language.

Healthy foods were whole foods — land and sea vegetables, fruits, grains, beans, seeds, meat, eggs, and dairy from animals raised with care on small farms.

Unhealthy foods included cakes, cookies, sweets, sugary cereals, and foods heavy in refined carbohydrates. These were not forbidden, but enjoyed occasionally and in moderation. 

Toxic foods were those heavily sprayed with pesticides or glyphosate, factory-farmed meat and dairy from animals given growth hormones or antibiotics, GMOs, and highly processed foods filled with artificial preservatives, dyes, and flavor enhancers — and now, seed oils as well. These were foods we chose to avoid because of their cumulative impact on long-term health.

🌿 When Children Help Grow, Forage & Harvest Food

Something shifts when children help grow or gather what ends up on their plate.

Vegetables stop being something imposed on them and begin to feel like something they helped create.

Even picky eaters often soften when they feel ownership in the process.

Because the carrot isn’t just a carrot anymore.

It’s their carrot.
The one they planted.
The one they watered.
The one they checked every morning.

The photo for this blog is of my two sons Julian (left) and Tryndl (right), proudly holding the bunches of beets they had planted from seed, tended every day, and finally harvested. The pride in this photo says everything.

And suddenly, mealtime becomes a celebration — not a negotiation.

🌿 Wildcrafting, Foraging & Our Ancient Bones

Long before grocery stores and packaging, humans were hunter-gatherers.

We noticed what grew wild.
We learned the language of the land.
We harvested with care.

Our ancestors watched the animals, observed the seasons, and slowly learned which plants nourished and which caused harm. Through observation — and sometimes hard lessons — they developed deep wisdom about the natural world. 

Even simple acts today — gathering herbs, noticing edible plants, tasting wild berries — reconnect children to something ancient within themselves.

In our home, my love of herbalism and nature meant we went deeper. We mushroom hunted, guided other families, and spent time with our local fungus federation. Whenever we weren’t completely certain of an identification, we sought guidance from experienced experts — people who helped us see what we might have missed and ensured we learned safely.

Community mentorship matters.

I met many families who were afraid to hike because of wild animals or hesitant to forage because of poisoning risks. But fear often comes from unfamiliarity — and learning replaces fear with respect and knowledge.

You don’t have to become an expert overnight.

Start gently:

• Notice what grows in your region
• Visit the library and explore local field guides
• Learn one plant or mushroom at a time
• Never eat anything unless you are 100% certain of its identification
• Ask permission before harvesting and take only what you need
• Thank Mother Nature and leave enough for the ecosystem
• Join local nature or foraging groups with other families

Because at our core, we are still hunter-gatherers.

And children remember this instinctively.

🌿 Looking Ahead: The Garden Through the Seasons

This is only the beginning.

As the wheel turns, we will return to this garden series again and again:

🌱 Part II — Spring: Preparing the land, choosing garden styles, composting, and building your first garden space together — with more companion planting magic.

☀️ Part III — Summer: Watching vegetables thrive, learning when to harvest, and navigating garden visitors like aphids, ants, and tomato hornworms — with ladybugs, praying mantis, and a little problem-solving magic.

🍂 Part IV — Autumn: Harvesting, saving seeds once more, preserving food, and preparing the garden for Winter rest.

The garden becomes a living teacher.

And our littles grow right alongside it.

🌱 A Closing Blessing for Winter Garden Dreaming

May your kitchen become a place of connection and discovery.

May tiny hands feel the miracle of seeds,
and may your own inner child remember
what it feels like to be curious again.

May vegetables become stories,
gardens become classrooms,
and meals become moments of belonging.

May the soil teach patience.
May the seasons teach rhythm.
May your family grow together —
rooted, nourished, and wildly alive.

And when the snow still lingers outside, remember:

The garden has already begun. 🌱