Lilian Schmidt could not, for the life of her, figure out how to get her daughter to go to sleep.
None of the advice given to her by sleep experts or her pediatrician worked—not using a white noise machine, not buying blackout curtains, not even giving her a massage. “Every single day, it took like two to three hours to put her to bed,” the brand consultant from Zurich recalls. “She’d scream and fight and we would all be so exhausted and frustrated by the end of the day.”
When her daughter was 3 and a half years old, a bleary-eyed and desperate Schmidt turned to a controversial parenting tool: ChatGPT. The advice it offered “was completely opposite from everything I’d heard before,” she says. “It said she needed more stimulation,” suggesting that her daughter chew gum or jump on a trampoline before bed.
To Schmidt’s utter shock, it worked. Within five minutes, her daughter snuggled up next to her and fell asleep. “I was freaking out,” she says. “I was like, ‘Oh my God, nobody was able to help me except ChatGPT.’”
From there, Schmidt, who also has a 14-year-old stepson, became something of an AI evangelist. In June 2025, she posted a TikTok video with the caption, “I Turned ChatGPT into my coparent,” and it went viral. Her follower count swelled to 27,000 in just three weeks. She made her own custom GPT, Coparent, and started selling access to it for $37 on her website.
Schmidt is one of a growing cohort of women branding themselves as a new type of momfluencer—not one who uses aspirational imagery to make the mundane labor associated with motherhood more aesthetically appealing, but one who asks whether the labor is even necessary at all. They post videos like “The AI Assistant That’s Basically My Mom Brain Now” and “How to Use AI as a Mom,” and promote customized prompts or handbooks to moms who “want a coparent who never forgets the sunscreen or asks you to write things down,” as Schmidt writes in one TikTok caption.
One person who is relatively absent from Schmidt’s content is her longtime partner. In her videos, she’s doing pretty much all of the parenting labor, including meal prep, grocery-shopping, and kiddie arts and crafts. This is reflective of reality; moms assume the vast majority of the physical and mental labor in US households, with a 2022 Department of Labor survey finding that employed mothers spend an extra 13.5 hours per week doing chores and an average of 12.5 hours per week on childcare—a 40 percent increase from 1975.
That’s not to say that dads aren’t helping around the house. Pew data shows that fathers now spend more than twice as much time on household chores and childcare than they did 50 years ago. But by and large, women are still expected to shoulder most of the household burden.
“It’s not that my partner isn’t helping, because he is,” Schmidt says. “But for women and moms, there is so much invisible labor that you carry and everything is in your hands, and it actually takes time with your kids away from you.” Moms flocked to her page once they saw she was using AI “to actually be more present with my kids and to be more emotionally regulated, so I can be a cool mom and a happy mom and not a stressed-out one.”
Women are less likely (more than 20 percent less likely, according to one 2025 study) to use generative AI in their everyday lives than men are, a discrepancy known as the “AI gender gap.” Generative AI tools suffer from what Stephanie Leblanc-Godfrey, a founder of the company Mother AI who refers to herself as a “maternal technologist,” likes to call a “PMS” problem, meaning they tend to be “pale, male, and stale.”
