There are seasons on every farm. Seasons of planting, tending, harvesting, and resting. I’ve come to realize that motherhood follows much the same rhythm. Some days feel abundant, others exhausting, and each season asks something different of us.
This year, our farm is growing more than vegetables.
At 27 weeks pregnant with our second little boy, every sunrise brings two jobs that are beautifully intertwined—raising an organic farm and raising a family.
Growing Up in the Garden
When people ask if our 6-year-old son [Leo] likes farming, I usually smile.
The truth is, farming isn’t something he’s become interested in—it’s simply the life he’s always known.
Long before he could carry a harvest basket or tell the difference between kale and broccoli, he was riding around farms in a wheelbarrow, watching us weed beds, harvest vegetables, feed animals, and care for the soil. Some of his earliest memories were made on Hale Akua Garden Farm on Maui, where, at just three years old, he eagerly followed us through the gardens, helped care for the ducks & hens, and learned that every living thing deserves respect.
Those early years planted seeds that continue to grow today.
Now, at six years old, he’s become what we lovingly call our “mini farmer.” Not because we ask him to work, but because he genuinely wants to be part of it. Whether he’s collecting eggs, checking on the chickens, or asking endless questions about compost and worms, his curiosity reminds me that children don’t need perfect lessons—they simply need opportunities to participate.
Teaching Stewardship, One Small Moment at a Time
One of my greatest hopes isn’t simply that my children know how to grow food.
It’s that they understand how to care for life.
The farm gives us opportunities to teach those lessons every single day.
One afternoon, Leo noticed a tiny baby bird trapped beneath insect netting covering one of our crops. Without hesitation, his focus shifted from whatever game he had been playing to carefully freeing the frightened little bird. He held it gently in his hands before watching it safely return to the trees.
Moments like that matter more than any harvest.
On another day, he’ll carefully stroke one of our hens, instinctively understanding that the animals who provide us with eggs deserve gentle hands and grateful hearts.
Organic farming isn’t just about growing vegetables without synthetic chemicals. It’s about recognizing that we’re caretakers of an entire ecosystem—from the microbes beneath our feet to the birds flying overhead.
Watching my son naturally embrace that responsibility gives me hope that stewardship can be taught simply by living it together.
Little Hands Make Meaningful Work
As our farm has grown, so has Leo.
His jobs have changed with his size.
Today he proudly helps broadfork garden beds, gathers fresh eggs, learns about compost systems, harvests Black Soldier Fly Larvae, and even helps brew nutrient-rich fertilizer teas that feed our crops.
He doesn’t always get every task right.
Sometimes rows aren’t perfectly straight.
Sometimes more dirt ends up on him than in the wheelbarrow.
Sometimes five minutes of work turns into thirty minutes of chasing butterflies.
And honestly?
That’s exactly how childhood should look.
He’s learning that food doesn’t magically appear at the grocery store. He’s seeing firsthand how healthy soil becomes healthy plants, how insects can be helpers instead of pests, and how patience often produces the sweetest harvest.
He’s not just learning how to farm.
He’s learning how to observe, solve problems, care for living things, and appreciate the effort behind every meal.
Growing Two Harvests
Being pregnant while managing an organic farm has changed the way I approach my work.
Tasks that once felt effortless now require planning. Harvest bins feel heavier. Summer heat demands more breaks. I find myself asking for help more often than I ever have before.
For someone who has always measured success by productivity, pregnancy has gently reminded me that slowing down isn’t weakness.
It’s wisdom.
The farm doesn’t need me to do everything.
It needs me healthy enough to keep showing up tomorrow.
At the same time, every vegetable we harvest feels even more meaningful. I’m nourishing our growing community while also nourishing the tiny little boy growing inside me with the same nutrient-dense food we work so hard to produce.
When people ask why organic farming matters so much to our family, this is why.
Healthy soil grows healthy food.
Healthy food nourishes healthy families.
And hopefully, healthy families continue caring for healthy land.
The Next Little Farmer
One of my favorite parts of this pregnancy has been watching Leo prepare for becoming a big brother.
He’ll stop beside me, gently pat my belly, and tell his little brother all about the farm.
He explains where the chickens sleep.
He talks about mushrooms, tomatoes, fish, worms, insects, and pumpkins.
Sometimes he’ll grin and say,
“When he’s big enough, I’ll teach him about all the good bugs out there and not to be afraid!”
Every time he says it, I believe him.
Because that’s exactly how he learned.
Not through lectures or classrooms.
By walking beside us.
By watching.
By asking questions.
By getting his hands dirty.
And one day, I imagine another tiny pair of muddy boots following right behind his.
Some evenings, after the final harvest has been washed and packed and the last emails have been answered, I’ll sit quietly with tired feet and a baby who seems convinced my ribs make the perfect place to practice soccer.
Leo is usually nearby, proudly showing me another strange-shaped rock, chasing butterflies, or asking if tomorrow we’ll harvest more tomatoes.
Those quiet moments remind me why we chose this life.
Farming isn’t easy.
Motherhood isn’t either.
Both require faith in things you can’t always see.
You plant seeds long before you enjoy the harvest.
You nurture something with patience, trusting that growth is happening even when it’s invisible.
Whether it’s a tomato plant reaching toward the sun, a regenerative farm taking root, or a little boy learning to care for the world around him, the most meaningful things in life are cultivated slowly.
As this season unfolds, our fields continue to grow.
So does our family.
Soon another little boy will join us among the rows, adding one more muddy pair of boots to this beautiful life.
Because here at Living City Farms, we’re growing far more than vegetables.
We’re growing the next generation of stewards—children who understand that caring for the earth begins with caring for every living thing upon it.
