Avni Patel Thompson

I wanted to build myself a force field, a machine that could intercept every interruption, an expert that was more capable and organized than I could ever be.

I mean, if we were going to use my brain as the computer to run it all, why couldn't we use an actual computer instead?

My first few tries failed.

It didn't matter how meticulously I entered every last detail of our family's logistics, there was always some situation or scenario I would fail to detail.

I mean, try explaining a five-year-old's sudden allergy to square-shaped foods to software.

But then, three years ago, things changed.

Large language models started to get really good.

And unlike software, AI could handle ambiguous and incomplete information.

It could take something like a birthday party invite and not just do the explicit thing, like get it into my calendar, but handle the implicit things that too often mess tired, busy parents up, like reminding me to buy a birthday present or checking for conflicts.

So now, when my husband and I are hit with something related to the family, I've built Milo, the first AI sidekick for parents, to be able to take those school newsletters and grocery items and library books and be able to handle it.

And best yet, Milo can tell everyone what's happening every day.

Finally, a computer that can actually run things.

So you'd think that this is where the story ends.

But no, because I'm human and I'm greedy.

If Milo could take on the rote, repetitive, administrative parts of family life so beautifully, why not keep on going?

Why couldn't it coordinate play dates with Sienna's mom, Carrie?

Or when the girls were bickering, pop in to suggest the ideal way to resolve their dispute?

So a couple of months ago, we're working on ways to improve this force field, and one of my investors, a guy who's pretty reserved unless you get him fired up, goes, well, Milo can see those evening events and just automatically text your sitter.

Or it knows your friend's birthdays, and it can just send them birthday wishes.

And those teacher emails?