The family calendar
One sentence is enough: Ned adds the event to the shared calendar, knows who is free and spots overlaps.
Appointments, holiday childcare, expiring documents, home upkeep: you message Ned as you would a relative. He files it, reminds you, and warns you before things go wrong.
It lives in one parent's head, on sticky notes and in a spreadsheet nobody opens. One busy week is enough for a reminder to slip through the cracks.
Ned knows who works where, when the children finish school and how long it takes to get to the physio. He thinks of what would have slipped your mind.
One sentence is enough: Ned adds the event to the shared calendar, knows who is free and spots overlaps.
Half-day by half-day, Ned sees who is looking after the children and where someone is missing, weeks ahead. He drafts the requests and sends the schedule as an image.
At 7 am (9 am on Wednesdays, at weekends and during the holidays): the weather, the day's appointments, disrupted trains and when to leave. On Sundays, the week ahead.
Forward an e-mail from school or an appointment letter, drop a PDF in the shared folder: Ned pulls out the dates and reminders, and suggests them to you. Nothing goes into the calendar without your OK.
Passports, ID cards, residence permits, contracts, warranties: Ned warns you early enough to act, and before a trip.
Boiler, chimney sweep, windows, filters: Ned tracks what comes back, takes the holidays and the weather into account, and suggests another slot when things slip.
Vaccinations, check-ups and follow-up appointments, in a separate conversation, processed in Switzerland. When a check-up is coming up, Ned suggests slots when you are free.
Ned spots the days when nobody will be there in time. On your written OK, he books it himself on the portal, then checks that it went through.
A finished wash, a frost warning, the shutters at the right time, the alarm forgotten at night. An action on the house always waits for your OK.
And also: birthdays and the children's party invitations, workouts in free slots, protected time for everyone each week, the garden and its seasonal jobs, tradespeople expected at home, and everyone's holidays in the calendar. A voice message is enough to talk to him, and the living-room screen shows the family's day.
Always with the same rule: Ned prepares, you decide. The order will depend on what families tell us in the survey.
Who stays with the child each half-day, balanced between the parents, what to cancel, and the note for school, ready to send.
With your consent, the grandparents receive your childcare requests in their own conversation, never in yours, and answer in a word: their reply is noted.
Outings, packed lunches, notebooks to sign: what the teacher asks for arrives at the right time.
Today Ned serves one family. Before opening it to others, we want to know what matters to yours: about twenty multiple-choice questions, around eight minutes. Your answers stay anonymous, even if you leave your contact details at the end to try Ned before anyone else.
A briefing in the morning, one in the evening, and a question when a decision is yours to make. The rest of the time he stays quiet, and at night only an emergency makes him speak.
The weather, the day's appointments, disrupted trains and when to leave.
“Nobody's home on Thursday when the cleaner comes: shall I draft a message for her?” An OK is enough.
A new appointment at a bad time? Ned counts the travel time and sees that Marc can pick up the children.
What's left for tomorrow. Nothing to say? He says nothing.
By message, privately or in the family group. A sentence, a forwarded e-mail, a document dropped in a folder.
What you tell him is noted straight away, then Ned checks with you; what he reads in an e-mail or a document waits for your OK. Nothing leaves the family without your consent.
At the right time, to the right person, with what you need to know to act.