5SmartReads

I have a handful of traditions on the Fourth of July. I re-read the Declaration of Independence. I make tacos. I watch Independence Day (one of my favorite movies of all time). Over the weekend, I couldn’t help but think about what the sesquicentennial celebrations would’ve been like under a President Harris or President Biden…or anyone else, really.

It happens every year. I approach summer with a sense of possibility, a palpable excitement. “This is the one,” I think. This will be the best summer ever. It never is. I think my best summer ever was when I was 11, turning 12 years old. I spent virtually every day with my best friend, either at her house or her at my house (her parents were like my second parents).

Before we dive into this month’s plan, I’d love to hear from you. As I plan out this next chapter, I want your honest feedback and just 5 minutes of your time. I promise this is the last time I’ll ask this! June was about the same as May, and I have to remind myself that steadiness is success. Here’s June, by the numbers (to date): • Two Can Play had me wishing for traffic so I could keep listening it.

“The risk to remain tight in a bud is more painful than the risk it takes to blossom.” - Anais Nin I don’t know why I decided to do this guided meditation that morning. But there was something about this quote in the description that called to me. As I breathed through and let my honest thoughts flow, I cried. Once the meditation ended, I grabbed my journal so I wouldn’t forget what emerged in the practice. Essays like these are where I write honestly about my life.

I wrote about my best/base/shit day architecture last week, and I lived each of those days in rapid succession last week. The good was really good. I loved celebrating Chassity Evans’ amazing book (and a nightcap after, which never happens). The first Moms Build AI event was a huge success, and I’m thrilled that there’s so much interest in bringing it to other cities. I also finished a needlepoint project - the first one in years.

…mine is also a ‘let me survive things better than I have before’ summer. I’ll explain, and I’m sharing this week’s posts in case you missed them. The weekend letter is always free, and my paid subscribers are why. If you’d like to keep me company in my current rut — and everywhere else — I’d love to have you. How are we feeling about summer so far? I’m okay, which frankly feels successful and in line with my hopes and dreams for this summer.

I know a lot of creators preface content with “a lot of you have been asking me…” It’s my social media ick. AND…I have gotten a lot of DMs asking for the specific prompts I’ve used or skills I’ve set up in Claude. This post is for those people. I’ve gained back a significant amount of time, energy, and mental space with this setup (and have been using that time to log off and read/learn/live more). This post will be a living library of the prompts, skills, and projects I’ve set up in Claude.

Last week started off strong - and promptly went to shit on Wednesday, after spending 14 hours at the hospital with my parents. Aside from catching up on sleep (an upside of the kids still being in New York), all of my health habits went to shit. I had Taco Bell for dinner twice, didn’t drink nearly enough water, and scrolled too much. It is what it is. It’s okay. And that Taco Bell was worth it. My workout routine is really the linchpin for my health habits.

I promise this will be the last time I ask for your help by filling out the reader survey. But please, fill out the survey. The 48 responses I’ve received so far are incredibly helpful (and so kind!), and it’s helping me map out what’s next. The weekend letter is always free, and my paid subscribers are why. If you’d like to keep me company in my current rut — and everywhere else — I’d love to have you. I don’t need a great summer. I don’t even need a good one. I just want a steady summer.

I’m expanding my well checks posts into a wider series, covering my health, caregiving, and my career. These check ins are where I write honestly about my health, caregiving for my parents while raising my boys, and what building this business actually looks like — the numbers, the doubts, the wins. They are deeply personal, and the paywall is what lets me be vulnerable and brutally honest. It’s why I’ve priced subscriptions as low as Substack will let me go.