Let Them Destroy the Garden

I let my kids destroy my garden.

Well—destroy might be a strong word. I don’t think they’ve done any lasting damage to the dandelions that are growing where I’m pretty sure I planted sunflowers.

Lately, they’ve been going out every day to flip over all the bricks surrounding my front garden bed. They’re on the hunt for rolly pollies and some sort of weird bug with a pincher on the end, which I honestly thought they’d be terrified of—but, surprisingly, they’re not. My oldest heads straight for a shingle that fell into the yard, lifting it to check on the ant hill that’s formed underneath. He calls them his ants. It’s fascinating to watch—when he lifts the shingle, the ants scatter, grabbing these weird little egg-looking things and pulling them back underground.

And you know what? I’m just going to let them do it.

Why Let Them “Destroy” the Garden?

I could redirect them. I could send them to the back yard to dig for bugs instead, or keep them inside where it’s quieter and more controlled.

But here’s the thing: inside, my kids can’t fully be themselves. It’s constant:

“Don’t touch that.”
“Leave that alone.”
“Inside voices, please.”

Outside is the one place where I don’t have to say those things every five minutes.

Now, I’ll be honest—we live in a trailer with a very small yard, and we’re not exactly supposed to make a mess out there. I’ll probably get a few brightly colored notices on my door this summer because of the stick piles the kids keep building and the bricks they’ve rearranged. But you know what? That’s okay.

Instagram is full of beautiful outdoor play spaces—gorgeous mud kitchens that look better than my actual kitchen. That’s not what we have. We have a patch of yard, some bricks, a pile of sticks, and whatever random treasures the kids drag out there. And it’s enough.

Weird Kids Doing Weird Things (And That’s Okay)

My kids play…weird. I don’t know if it’s a neurodivergence thing or just a reflection of me (I was a weird kid, and I’m a weird adult). But they get weird out there, and my job is to sit down, open my book, and hush.

My oldest will spend two hours—not even kidding—using water to dissolve sidewalk chalk. Not drawing, not playing hopscotch. Just turning the chalk into puddles and watching it melt, narrating an epic battle where the chalk loses. By the end, he looks like he ran a color marathon—covered head to toe in chalk dust.

But he stayed outside. He stayed engaged. He made up a story. And that counts.

This is the same kid who doesn’t like going outside and doesn’t like bugs. But give him the right weird thing—like a dissolving chalk battle or an ant hill—and he’ll stay out there for hours.

It’s Not About a Perfect Outdoor Life

Even if we limit screens, my kids are going to use them. They learn through screens. I learn through screens. I’m not trying to go screen-free; I’m trying to balance it.

So I’ve made it a priority—an hour outside, almost every day. Not a big, fancy outing. Not four hours at a park. Just:

Grab a toy.
Grab a water bottle.
Go outside.
I set a timer for an hour.

And lately, something magical has happened. My oldest—the one who always asks how many minutes until he can go back inside—has been asking me if we can go outside as soon as I get home from work.

Every Family Is Different

I know it’s not easy. Every kid has different sensory needs. Some kids can’t handle the feel of dirt, the buzz of insects, or the heat of the sun. I’m not saying force it. I’m not saying this is the answer.

But I am saying that, for us, getting outside—letting them flip the bricks, dig in the dirt, and yes, even “destroy” the garden—has been good. Especially for my kids with sensory challenges, autism, and ADHD.

I’m not an expert. I’m just a mom who’s watched her kids light up when they’re free to explore the world, get messy, and yes, occasionally demolish the garden.

So I’ll keep letting them.