This week
1 needs youThree things surfaced. Nothing urgent.
- Soccer practiceTuesday · 5 in the eveningtoday
- Dentist — MiaWednesday · 9 in the morningtomorrow
- Field-trip formDue Friday · from Elm Ave. Schoolneeds you
Everything your family needs to know — in one calm place.
Clearing reads the school emails, invites, and forms — and turns them into one clear week.
Every other family app makes you enter everything. Clearing reads it for you — school emails, calendar invites, permission slips, sign-up deadlines — and gathers them into a single picture of your week.
Nothing is added without your say-so. Every surfaced item keeps a link back to its source, and you confirm with a tap.
Five jobs, done softly, in the background.
Forward the school email, the sign-up form, the party invite. Clearing reads each one and lines it up for a one-tap yes — every item linked back to its source. You stop being the family’s inbox.
Every calendar in one place, color-coded by person. Conflicts are spotted before they bite — practice and the dentist can’t double-book each other anymore.
A quiet briefing at the start of each week, and straight answers in between — when’s the dentist? did the form go in? Grounded in your family’s real schedule, with sources.
Meals land on nights that actually work. Ingredients roll themselves into one grocery list, and a pasted recipe link files itself into the box.
Read-only, least-privilege access, isolated per household. Clearing keeps the useful bit and a link — not your whole inbox — and none of it trains anything.
When something needs you, it rises. A field-trip form lifts out of the inbox noise and waits — with a quiet flag, a due date, and a link back to the original. Everything else stays down in the leaf litter.
This item was surfaced from an email.
Three things surfaced. Nothing urgent.
Sunday, five o’clock. The week ahead, gathered into one quiet note.
Here’s your week.
Four things this week. None of them urgent.
Nothing else needs you. Enjoy the quiet.
The Weekly Clearing arrives every Sunday evening.
Set up your household in a quiet ten minutes — and stop holding the whole week in your head.
Already have a household? Sign in