05/15/2026
I harvested my first potatoes today, the day my oldest graduates high school, and this is how they might be the same.
1. However long people tell you you have, it’s not enough. Grow a little longer, water a little more, keep them warm, pray for them, talk to them often, and your harvest will be bigger and better.
2. Yes, I thought my mom was cuckoo all this time for talking to her plants, but now I do, too. All of us talk to babies like they don’t hear Charlie Brown’s teacher when we do it, so are we cuckoo for baby talk? I don’t think so.
3. Don’t peak in high school. Aim high and then aim higher if you want more potatoes. Or better kids.
4. If you feel cringe doing it, do it anyway. Fertilize, harvest by the moon, start crazy new traditions, or spend $200 in posters that could get turned away at the door. Do it all.
5. Get the family involved. The ones by blood and the ones you choose, because the fruits of our labor weren’t meant to be harvested alone.
6. Cry all year long because you can’t believe a series of hurry-up-and-waits in your 20s has resulted in your realization in your 40s that you just had to slow down all along.
7. I didn’t cry when my potatoes were laughable, or when my baby walked, but I cried when the coolest girl in school said on stage, “You’re story is still being written.”
8. I started a story, but the end may not be for me, or even include me. I’m okay with that.
And that’s no small potatoes.
