mtrzzz
Legacy system, human floppy disk
I’ve spent 30 years building software for companies: structured, corporate, predictable. In tech years, that makes me a legacy system: the human version of a floppy disk. Useful once. Easy to overlook now.
Then I looked at my kids and did the math parents try not to do. By the time they hit today’s ages, I’d already spent about 70% of the years I get with them under my roof. The remaining 30% was the most valuable thing I owned, and I was losing the war for their attention to homework, sports, YouTube, and everyone else’s feeds.
No more excuses
When AI coding tools showed up, it was amazing and a little crazy. The only thing standing between me and building a private place for our family (photos, schedules, the “who’s driving to soccer” chaos) was my own list of reasons not to start.
So I started. First as an iOS experiment. Useful for parents. Fun for kids. Quickly clear that this wasn’t a weekend hack; it was a lifelong project I’d already begun.
The board of directors (ages vary)
Building it with my family is where it gets weird in the best way. My daughter designed the logo. The kids helped pick the colors. They give constant feedback on what belongs in the app, and they constantly question the company name they helped build.
To launch, I needed three things:
- Ideas from my kids
- A real shot at making a difference in people’s lives
- AI coding tools that sometimes hallucinate, yes me to death even when I’m wrong, apologize, and create 47 new errors in the process
I’m a fan of self-deprecating jokes. Living through that third item supplies unlimited material.
Half a family isn’t a family app
The hard part was the pivot. I started iOS-only, then realized a family app that only works on one kind of phone is like a reunion where half the relatives aren’t invited. Learning cross-platform mobile development was a massive change: thirty years of experience meeting a new stack with all the “fit” issues that implies.
More than iMessage-plus
On paper, mtrzzz is a safe household space: chat, albums that build themselves, calendars per person, collision alerts for parents. Improvements over burying family life in a group text.
What I’m actually trying to do is keep together a family that the outside world keeps pulling apart. Our own jokes. Our own place to be playful and reflect. A digital campfire in a world of social media wildfires. And a way to teach my kids how to think about building a company, an app — anything — by doing it with them.
The bookend
I started this to learn and grow before the 18-year clock ran out. I didn’t realize it would change my life.
Even if we never get a single download outside our own home, the ROI on those last years of connection is already 100%. It would be worth it if I only built it for us. I also hope it helps other families reclaim their remaining 30%.