Nobody grows up wanting to be the family's admin.

Raising a child is the part people talk about. Around it sits a second job nobody applied for. Booking the jab. Moving the class that clashes. Ordering the cake. Chasing the two parents who never RSVP. Writing the Sunday note so your mother knows Thursday's plan. And underneath all of it, a stack of government paperwork with dates nothing will remind you about.

Each task is straightforward. Together they're relentless, and almost none of it can be dropped without someone noticing. It lands in the evenings, on one person, and it is very hard to share — because sharing it means explaining it, and explaining takes longer than doing.

We're building a personal assistant for parents. You tell Coparent what to handle, in a sentence. It books, writes, plans, sends and chases, and comes back with a receipt rather than a job. When it reaches something only a parent can do, it stops, says what and why, and leaves it with you. That is the whole loop: handled, needs you, and, most of the time, silence.

The village is the other half

Every family already has one. A partner, grandparents, a helper, a godmother, the neighbour who takes your child on the day everything falls apart. What they have never had is a way to see what is needed without asking a parent first.

People don't hold the load back out of unwillingness. Today's tools just make sharing all or nothing. Give your mother-in-law the family calendar and she gets everything on it. So we built levels instead. A carer sees schedules, pickups, allergies and the immunisation record, which is enough to run a Tuesday. A godmother sees milestones and invitations. Only a partner sees money. You approve everyone, and you can remove them.

What we refuse to be

Most of the decisions here were subtractions. None of them is a "later":

• Not a mover of money. We never ask for banking logins, so we literally can't reach your accounts — and can't spend from them. We'll remind you when a deadline is coming. You handle the payment.
• Not a filer. Government forms stay in your hands. We get you to the right office with everything you need. Then you sign. These decisions are yours, and we keep that boundary every time.
• Not a recommender of insurance or investments. No referral fees. No ranked tables dressed up as advice. Everything else — which scheme first, what to bring, which school — we'll tell you when you ask, and every scheme we set out names the official page and the date we read it, so you can check it yourself.
• Not an attention machine. No streaks, no badges, nothing sent because you haven't opened the app. A quiet week should be a quiet app — and when we do reach out, it's real: a date, a change, a post from your village.
• Not a permanent record. We stop at the end of Primary 6, and our copy of your family stops with it. Data actually deletes on schedule — we're not just hiding it — and you can delete everything yourself at any time.

The paperwork, held as dates

Singapore gives families a lot, and publishes all of it. The problem was never information. It is sequence. Baby Bonus at MSF. Subsidies at ECDA. Leave at MOM. Primary 1 at MOE. Reliefs at IRAS. Grants at HDB. Each agency does its own part well, and none of them knows what your child's birthday means for the other five.

So Coparent holds all of it as one run of dates, built from your child's. Every fact names the official page and the date we read it. If we haven't checked lately, we say so instead of quoting a number. When a scheme changes we keep the old version, so a child born before the change still sees the rule that applied to them. Telling you the wrong rule about a decision you already made is the worst thing this product could do.

It matters, and it isn't the hero. It's one of the things we carry.

Where it came from

We spun out of Runway in August 2026. Runway looked at money and careers for people in their twenties and thirties, and kept landing on the same thing: people aren't short of information. They're short of someone to do the next thing.

That is sharpest around a young family, where the admin is heaviest and the deadlines least forgiving. So it became its own product, with its own name. We kept Runway's design system and its two rules: show the source, and never touch the money.

Where it is now

We're building a personal assistant for parents, and the beta is where the name gets earned. A small number of Singapore families first. What tells us it works isn't signups. It's whether a week actually got lighter, whether things got done that you didn't do, and whether the things that came back to you were genuinely yours.

If you're expecting, or have a child under seven, and you'd like to be in that group, try the app. If you'd rather just tell us what we've got wrong, hello@coparent.sg reaches a person.