Dad built an app. The kids went off to do something else.

I wanted to teach my daughters to touch-type. And since AI now lets you build your own software, I thought: why not just make my own typing course?

So I did.

With lessons, exercises, points and rewards. The whole package. I called it Tiepmiep.

And it worked brilliantly.

Well, technically, anyway.

The girls started enthusiastically. But after a while, things went quiet.

The app still worked perfectly. The users had simply disappeared.

Sound familiar?

Recently, I spoke to a friend who also enjoys experimenting with AI. He builds all sorts of useful apps to help his son learn.

With the same result.

Dad is enthusiastic. Child is enthusiastic. A week later, not much is happening.

We both had a laugh about it.

Because AI makes it very tempting to build something for everything these days.

An idea? Let’s make an app for it.

A problem? Maybe AI can solve it.

And before you know it, you’re working on five projects at once.

The odd thing is that sometimes you no longer know exactly what you wanted to achieve. Building has become so much fun and so easy that starting happens almost by itself.

And finishing? That can wait.

An app for my apps

I recognise this in myself, too.

New ideas keep coming. Some are useful; others are mainly interesting to try out.

But all those projects need attention. What was I building again? Where had I got to? What still needs doing?

So I built an application to organise my own projects.

And I didn’t stop there.

I now use a kanban board in Trello that communicates with my AI agent. It helps me keep track of my projects, tasks and progress.

Pretty clever, really.

But sometimes I have to laugh at myself.

AI lets me start so many new projects that I then need AI to manage them all.

So what have I actually gained at the end of the day?

Sometimes paper wins

Meanwhile, I notice something interesting at home.

My daughter often learns perfectly well with a stack of printed worksheets.

Just paper and a pen.

She can see the sheets, start on her own and see what she has already done.

I recognise that myself, too.

Every day, I use something I call Zien · Doen · Dragen — See · Do · Carry. A personal ritual in which I consciously look at the day ahead each morning and reflect on how it went each evening.

For that, I use paper. I write down my thoughts and intentions by hand.

But I combine it with an AI agent that helps me organise my thoughts, spot connections and take a critical look at myself.

That combination works for me.

Paper brings calm and attention. AI helps me look beyond my first thoughts.

So not everything needs to be digital. And not everything needs to be on paper.

What matters is how they strengthen each other.

So what makes AI valuable?

Don’t get me wrong. I love what AI makes possible.

Without AI, I probably would never have built Tiepmiep. I’ve learned a lot from it and, above all, had a great deal of fun.

And that has value, too.

But there is a difference between making something because you can and making something because it actually helps.

We can build faster and faster, but our time and attention remain limited.

Perhaps we should pause more often to ask three simple questions:

  • What problem am I actually trying to solve?
  • Who will this really make a difference for?
  • And what will it take to keep using and maintaining it?

Back to Tiepmiep

We now have a new plan for Tiepmiep.

No extra features. No new rewards. No smarter app.

Just ten minutes of practice every day after dinner.

That’s it.

Because sometimes the solution isn’t better technology, but a simple agreement.

AI makes it easier to start. But it doesn’t automatically make choosing, sticking with it and finishing any easier.

Now let’s just hope the girls spend another ten minutes typing tonight.

Otherwise, I might end up building a reminder app after all.

Then I can add it to my Trello board.

I’m sure my AI agent will know what to do with it.