To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before: Always and Forever

It’s the small stories that make this one worth watching, from Peter’s attempt at reconciling with his estranged father (Elliot from ET!!!), to Dr. Covey finally opening up to love again after losing his wife.

A-Ben-A-Qui Cleaning Paste!

I know we all have our favorite cleaning product but this stuff is unreal! It’s removed ink from my hardwood floors, permanent marker from my white quartz countertops, and all of the scruffs from our walls. It’s like the magic eraser but even better! Plus it’s nontoxic.

What is it about fresh flowers that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay? Evidence that even a small injection of beauty can make entire spaces feel alive, help your soul connect with joy.⁠

birth to seven involved the most physical transformation but memories are hard to pin down, ⁠

slipping through my fingers⁠

when I reach to catch them, pull them closer ⁠for a better look, only fragments make it through -- ⁠

My friend said she’s always thought about sending out something monthly called, Three Things That Work, where she shares products that make her life easier. I loved the idea, so later I texted to ask if she cared if I borrowed it for awhile, and here we are.

Little America

This 8-episode series from Apple TV is truly exquisite. It’s an anthology series, which means each episode tells a different story, but all of them are true stories of American immigrants.

I flailed in the early years, anxiety swallowing all my joy. I wanted so desperately to be good at this, this motherhood thing, and I couldn’t find any evidence that I was.

Sometimes we do something the same way for so long, we forget there are actually numerous possibilities open to us

Anytime I meet someone new, especially in groups, I can immediately tell you all the ways we are different. All the ways I don’t fit in. All the reasons they probably won’t include me.

They say if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move a mountain. But they don’t say what to do when your faith that was the size of a mountain has turned into a mustard seed.

Something terrible happened, something unimaginable -- and in the morning, someone showed up. With a cup of coffee. Coffee that promised me: it’s going to be okay.

It made me think about how I wish I was already at that place where I can remember some of the good stuff without triggering all the grief. And then I made broccoli tonight and Mila gave it a shot.

But once the invisible clock hands slide past halfway, real-life Ali stages a hostile takeover of vacation Ali, and I start worrying about all the things we still need to do, all the things we might miss, how little time left there is to relax.

It’s this space in the middle that’s hard for me. This weird, undefinable moment in time where you know things will never be like they were before, but you also aren’t sure what they will be like ahead.

Family is two kids who got into a shoving match during this photo shoot that ended in mom yelling and tears flowing. I was embarrassed, but the photographer brushed it off.

Love is doing whatever it takes to be the best version of yourself for the people who love you, even if that means asking your doctor for anxiety meds through shame-filled tears, desperately trying to convince her it’s only temporary and you’re really not usually like this.

Sometimes, my grandmother would slice a banana into rounds in a bowl and pour half-and-half over them, telling us this was a treat my father enjoyed as a boy. I loved to imagine him sitting at the same table, and I loved my grandmother’s cutlery — the delicate flowers and ribbons and bows, how light they were in my hands.

I don’t feel like I was only one who felt the extra energy, whether it was from someone loved and lost, or maybe just memories of who we were and who we’d wanted to be, lingering thoughts of a different time, or hope for a time when things are better— there is joy and grief in remembering, in believing.

Marriage is partly hard because you know all these things about one another — all the insecurities, the vulnerabilities, the tender spots. You know where to aim when you’re angry, when your not-best-self thinks hurting someone else will make you feel better.

And she does this thing lately where she punctuates the end of every statement with, “Mom, right?” Right? It comes out high and lilted, leaving a question mark dangling in the air. And it’s so much more than a question about accuracy.