i built three apps for my sister
and my niece.
her name is aya. she's tiny. she doesn't know any of this exists yet.
but one day, when she's old enough to understand, she'll know that her uncle built something real — something that started with her name and grew into something that helped thousands of moms who felt exactly like her mom felt.
exhausted. overwhelmed. wondering if they're doing it right.
i watched my sister become a mother. i watched the strongest woman i know question everything about herself. i watched her scroll through apps that tracked her baby like a science experiment and made her feel worse, not better.
i watched corporations sell her anxiety back to her as a subscription.
so i asked grandmothers.
not focus groups. not investors. not advisors. grandmothers. fifty of them. women who already raised children, already survived the sleepless nights, already came out the other side.
i asked them one question: "what does your daughter actually need?"
"she needs to know she's not failing. she needs sleep. and she needs to hear that her voice matters to that baby more than any app ever could."
— someone's grandmother, who was right
so i built it.
not a company. not a startup. not a pitch deck followed by a fundraising round followed by a board meeting about "user acquisition metrics."
i built three apps. from a laptop. with no investors, no office, and no employees. just conviction and a lot of coffee at 3am — because apparently that's when builders work too.
here's what we don't do.
no accounts
we don't want your email. open the app and use it.
no data collection
your baby's sleep is none of our business. literally.
no ads
you're feeding a baby at 3am. the last thing you need is a banner ad.
no guilt
the villain is time. never mom. these apps never judge.
tinySleep is free. forever. no catch. because every mom deserves a tool that works without asking for her credit card first.
tinyTales and tinyFilms are how we keep the lights on — and they're worth it. a mom told us she cried listening to her own voice reading to her baby. that's not a feature. that's a moment she'll have forever.
this isn't a tech company.
this is a backup team.
the one every mom deserves but most never get. the village that's supposed to exist but somehow disappeared.
we're not going to fix motherhood. we're not going to "disrupt parenting." we're going to make three quiet tools that make the hardest job on earth slightly less hard — and a lot more beautiful.
that's the whole plan.
"i built it for my sister and my niece.
now you can use it too."