Serre holds the open loops living in your head, the emails, the forms, the dates, and keeps them tracked until they need action from you. Built for the parts of running a family that never had a place to live, until now.
Every household carries a second job: the remembering, deciding, and explaining that runs constantly in the background, invisibly.
That job isn't a single action. It's the weight of holding everything at once. Serre exists to lift that weight.
I'm a software engineer. I've also moved five times as a new mom, and every time I've had to rebuild my family's entire logistics system from nothing. New schools, new doctors, new everything.
Doing it repeatedly taught me which parts of running a household are load-bearing and which parts only look like they are. The elaborate systems never survived a move. What survived was boring and small.
It also made obvious something I'd been carrying for years without naming: I was the single point of failure. The one who remembered the form was due, the one who caught the schedule conflict, the one who could never fully put anything down.
Serre started as what I built for myself, so the things in my head could live somewhere I could actually hand off. I built it so other moms could do the same.