// the whole story
You found the page with everything on it. Here’s where the bracelet came from, who’s building it, and the real reasons behind it — the parts we keep off the front page because they deserve more than a headline.
// the origin
No lab. No tech bros. Just real life — the messy kind where the only thing louder than the kids is the silence of a med you forgot to take. Again.
Turns out caring isn’t the problem. The problem is embarrassingly simple. We forget.
Another notification you swipe away isn’t a solution — it’s a joke. So we built something that sticks to your wrist, refuses to shut up, and only stops when the job’s done. Then we added Caregiver View (a caregiver can see whether the compartment was opened today) and a fail-safe (Smart Tags), because we know exactly how you operate.
yeah, we’re annoying. deal with it.
// the part we almost built
Version zero of this idea was a bracelet that delivered a mild electric zap when you ignored your meds. Apparently the FDA frowns on that. Rude, but fair.
So we went the other direction: build the most annoying thing we legally could. Because we’d already tried everything else. We had 800 alarms. We swiped them away, sometimes before they even went off. We made a mental note to do the thing “as soon as we’re done” — and then it was gone. Poof. Never thought of again until bedtime, when it was too late to fix.
A single polite buzz can’t compete with that. So the bracelet doesn’t do polite. Lights, sound, and vibration — and if that fails, a reminder on your phone, and a notification to a Buddy.
// the annoying part
A vibration and a small flash. Easy to handle if you handle it.
Sound gets louder, the flash gets brighter, the buzz gets stronger. Snooze and it climbs again.
Too many snoozes, or the compartment never opens, and your Buddy gets a notification. Someone else knows.
It stops one way
Open the door, take the dose out. The alarm sequence ends, the event is logged, and — if you want — your Buddy gets the good news.
Quiet Zones
You don’t want a bracelet screaming during your kid’s doctor appointment or a meeting. Drop a Quiet Zone on that place and the alarm waits. The second you walk out, it starts.
Your sequence
Pick Standard escalation, Variable (changes it up every time, so you can’t get used to it), or Custom — you set the order yourself.
// the personal part
My name is Daneille. I’m a mom with ADHD, raising kids with ADHD. I work with kids in the system. And until this year I was my grandmother’s full-time caretaker, while Lewy body dementia took her apart piece by piece. I know what it’s like to forget things. I know what it’s like to watch someone else forget.
My ignore game is strong. I had 800 alarms. I swiped them away — sometimes before they even went off. If I was busy, I’d make a mental note to do the thing “as soon as I’m done.” And then it was gone. Poof. Never thought of again until bedtime, when it was too late.
the returns
I forget meds, returns, appointments. All of it. If this doesn’t work out, I’m opening a store that sells the things I forgot to return.
the one I’m still sorry about
I’ve forgotten my kid’s meds. A doctor’s appointment. An awards ceremony. (I’m sorry, Maddie.) That’s the part nobody puts on a landing page — knowing you love someone and still watching the thing fall through the crack.
the guilt
I know the guilt that comes with it, because I’ve carried it. Then I watched my kids struggle with the exact same thing — frustrated by something that seems so simple to everybody else. Just remembering.
my grandma
I was my grandmother’s full-time caretaker too. She had Lewy body dementia, and she forgot to eat. We tried the smartwatch: the reminders weren’t loud enough, the watch was too complicated, and she cleared them by accident. She died this year. This bracelet is the thing I wish I could have handed her — loud, and dumb-simple.
caring was never the problem. remembering is.
So I designed the thing I needed. Then I asked Michelle to help me build it. This one’s for my grandma.
// ideas we’re testing
Meds are the reason we built it — they aren’t the only thing that falls out of our heads. None of the below is on the first run. These are the ideas we’re prototyping and testing right now, and we’d rather show you what we’re trying than pretend it’s all finished.
Smart Tags
Put a tag on your keys, wallet, or the thing you keep losing. Try to leave without it and the bracelet hits a Level 3 alert. Can’t find it? Make the tag ring from the app, or tap the bracelet.
great idea or bad idea?
Reminders that travel
The returns you keep forgetting, the store you keep driving past — the bracelet can go off when you’re near the place you can actually do something about it.
great idea or bad idea?
Kids + NFC
Tell your kid to brush their teeth and set it on their bracelet. They tap the tag on the toothbrush and you get proof it happened. Get distracted on the way and you get told that instead.
great idea or bad idea?
No screen, on purpose
My grandmother had a smartwatch. The reminders weren’t loud enough, the watch was complicated, and she cleared them by accident — she had Lewy body dementia. The bracelet has no screen, so the battery lasts and there’s no chance you don’t hear it.
great idea or bad idea?
Ideas, not promises. Everything here is in testing and may change — the first run is the bracelet that holds your dose and won’t shut up until you take it. Patent pending.
// who’s behind this
Two moms from Pax, WV (population 83). Best friends since 3rd grade. We built this because we forget too.
Founder
ADHD mom of three who cared for her grandmother through Lewy body dementia — has forgotten the meds, the appointment, and the awards ceremony, usually all in one week.
Co-founder
Forgetful mom of two loud sports kids. Turned mutual dysfunction into a wearable that yells at you until you behave.
// the serious side
We joke about being annoying because forgetting is uncomfortable to talk about. But behind every sign-up is a real reason. Swipe through a few.
that’s the spew. thanks for reading it.
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