OliTrack is named after our son, Olivér. He was born with Class VII Symbrachydactyly of his right arm — essentially one-handed. Every baby tracker we tried assumed two free thumbs, one logged-in parent, and that we’d eventually pay $9.99/mo to see our own data. So I built a different one.
One thumb to log a feed. Both parents on the same household, in real time. No ads. No upsells. No data harvesting. Open source, MIT licensed, self-host whenever you stop trusting me.
Olivér arrived in April 2026 with Class VII Symbrachydactyly of his right arm. He has one functional hand — his left. He’ll grow up adapting a world built for two — and we’ll be there to help him do it.
But while we figured out the rest of newborn life — the feed every three hours, the night shifts, the “wait, did you do the last one?” — we kept hitting the same wall. Every tracker on the App Store was either dripping with ads, gated behind a subscription to see our own week-old data, designed for a parent with two free thumbs and a partner who never logs in, or quietly funnelling our baby’s weight curve into someone else’s analytics dashboard.
So I built OliTrack. For Oli, first. Then for his mum and me, sharing one log between two phones. Then I cleaned it up and put it on the internet — because if you’re reading this at 3am with a baby on your chest, I want you to have it too.
These aren’t marketing pillars. They’re the things that were wrong in the first three trackers I tried, and the reason this one exists.
a settings screen, a wizard, a 4-step modal at 3am.
The home screen is six big buttons in a thumb-reachable grid. The most frequent action sits bottom-left, where Oli’s left thumb lands — and mirrors cleanly for the right-handed crowd too. Every tap target is 56 px — above the WCAG floor, sized for tired fingers, not a designer’s grid. After 19:00, the theme dims itself so the 3am open doesn’t blind you.
a “primary parent” with a “viewer” tier underneath.
Add your partner with a one-time invite link. From then on you both see the same data, same history, same next-feed prediction. No “did you do the 4am?” texts. The answer is on the home screen.
a 7-day trial, a “lite” plan, a popup begging for a review.
The hosted app is free for as long as I can keep the server up. Donations help. If they ever don’t cover it, I’ll tell you before I switch anything off — and the source is on GitHub so you can run it on a Raspberry Pi for a tenner.
a “we may share aggregated insights with partners” clause.
Per-household isolation. No third-party trackers, ever. GDPR export and delete on demand from Settings. Photos sit on EU object storage, EXIF stripped on upload. The whole thing is a single static binary you can audit on GitHub.
The minimum height of every primary button. Above WCAG 2.5.5. Sized for one tired thumb in the dark.
Third-party scripts on this page or in the app. No analytics SDK, no fingerprint, no “essential cookies” lie.
Fork it, host it, audit it, hand it to your sceptical sysadmin friend. The whole stack ships as one Docker image.
No streaks, no badges, no “parenting score”. Just the things the midwife asks about and the things you’ll wish you remembered in six months.
Bottle ml or breast minutes, with side and a next-feed prediction based on your baby’s actual rhythm.
Pee or poo, one tap. The history view tells you it’s been three days, which is when you should worry.
Saved versus dumped, with a reason field for the days you need to remember why.
A single timeline chart. No percentile graphs to fret over — just the line, going up.
The CDC LTSAE 2022 catalogue, the NHS key ages, plus your own custom moments — with photos and the GPS pin of where it happened.
A print-friendly one-pager for the health visitor, or for you at 3am wondering if today was unusual.
OliTrack will stay free for as long as I can keep it that way. If you’d like to chip in for the server, the coffee, and Olivér’s eventual prosthetic Lego, there’s a Ko-fi link below. If you’d rather just use it, please do — that was the whole reason I bothered.