At least my tomatoes love me back...

I finally understand my dad's need to work with plants. He has had his hands in something in the dirt for as long as I can remember. My memory of his gardening begins with the top of a pineapple that he planted. I don't remember specifics after that, but I'm fairly sure it grew into a beautiful something or other. After that, I remember a strawberry patch fenced off with railroad ties in our backyard, followed by tiny sapling trees transported in buckets to the acreage where he later built our house. My brother and I spent many an evening riding in the back of Daddy's little blue Toyota, surrounded by leaking buckets, going out to water those trees. That was about 25 years ago, and most of those saplings are huge and providing shade now.
That's the allure of planting, I guess. You pretty much know what the plants need. Give it to them, and most of the time, you get positive results...something good to show for your care and work. With people, you definitely don't have that luxury.
This stepmom shit is hard, yo. I need help. Or advice. Or maybe just a few more beers.
Halp. Plz....