I'm Devon — a married mom of two, plus one very good fur baby (Grizzly, our Labrador retriever rescue mix). I'm what people lovingly call a "crunchy mom." I read the labels. I ask the questions. And a few years ago, the biggest question in our house became: what are all these screens really doing to my kids?
My daughter Londyn — she's 10 now — was diagnosed with ADHD. Like a lot of families, we went looking for ways to support her that felt natural to us first. We cut the artificial dyes. We pulled back on the endless short-form content — the YouTube rabbit holes, the scrolling that never ends. We got the screens out of the quiet corners of her day.
"And somewhere in all that, one old idea kept coming back to us: the home phone."
Not a smartphone. Not a locked-down tablet pretending to be safe. A real phone that sits on the counter, rings out loud, and connects you to the people you love — and nobody else. Londyn had never heard a dial tone in her life. The first time she picked one up, her face lit up. It felt like handing her a little piece of a slower, warmer world.
"We didn't want to raise our kids like it's 2026. We wanted to let them grow up like it's 1999 — bikes, backyards, and a phone on the wall."
So we started building it — for her first. A phone with the internet stripped out and something better built in: software that screens every call and only lets your approved people through. The hardware is the part you can hold. The software is the part that keeps your family safe.
We shared the idea with family and friends, half-expecting them to smile and change the subject. Instead, the response was overwhelming. Everyone wanted one — for their kids, for their aging parents, for themselves. That desire is what turned a kitchen-table idea into Homie: The New Home Phone.
We're a tiny family-run team, and we're building this the way we'd want it built for our own home. Thank you for being here at the very beginning.
— Devon & Londyn
Come home like we used to.