A mothers’ joy begins when new life is stirring inside; when a tiny heartbeat is heard for the first time, and a playful kick reminds her that she is never alone. – Unknown
little babaru
Hello . Salaam . नमस्ते . Namaste . ¡Hola! . Bonjour . Ciao . 你好 . Dia dhuit . Здравствуйте . こんにちは
I’m Shelina, mother to two little babarus - Noah and Esai.
Based in South West London, in the Borough of Richmond, I’m surrounded by a rich blend of nature, culture and heritage. Through little babaru, I also reach out beyond borders - connecting with mothers and families across the globe. Wherever you are, in some shape or form, we are all part of one little babaru family.
Little babaru was born during my early years of motherhood and shaped deeply by the pandemic. It became a space to slow down, to reflect, and to honour the quiet strength it takes to mother in modern times.
Here, I share gentle reflections on motherhood, wellbeing, cultural roots and everyday rituals - always holding close the wisdom of the mamas who came before us. Their resilience reminds us that we are capable, connected, and never truly alone.
with love,
Mama Shelina
Why } little babaru
Little Babaru began when my eldest son, Noah, was born in 2017. Motherhood arrived quietly but completely — changing my inner world, my priorities, and the way I moved through life.
This space was never created to offer perfect answers or advice. Instead, it exists to share an honest, unfiltered journey of motherhood — the learning, the unlearning, the doubts, and the small moments of growth that shape us along the way.
Motherhood is not fixed; it evolves as we do. Each season brings new lessons, and with them, reminders that perfection is not the goal. We are always learning, always adapting — and we deserve to meet ourselves with more gentleness and grace.
Little Babaru is also a place of community. A space where stories can be shared, reflected upon, and held with care. I continue to learn from other mothers, cultures, and lived experiences, and this platform allows those voices and insights to be honoured too.
One day, our little babarus may look back and read these words — and perhaps understand, even a little, the depth of love, effort, and quiet sacrifice that parenthood carries. Because it is only when you become a parent yourself that you truly begin to see it.
In the spring of 2020, at the height of lockdown, my second little babaru, Esai, was born.
After a short season of nesting and settling into life as a family of four, the weight of uncertainty returned. Lockdown after lockdown made it hard to imagine when life might find its rhythm again. Like many parents, I felt the quiet grief of plans paused — the baby classes, sensory play, music, and cultural spaces I had once shared with my eldest, now suddenly unavailable.
Those early months made it clear just how much connection matters — especially in motherhood.
We were living through unprecedented times, and I felt a deep need for something steady: a place for shared reflection, gentle encouragement, and what I think of as mother therapy. A space where modern experiences could sit alongside the wisdom of traditional mamas — even when that wisdom doesn’t always fit neatly into our own parenting styles.
Motherhood can feel isolating, particularly in the early years, and even more so when you don’t yet have a mama tribe to lean on. If that was you then — or now — know that you were never alone.
It was during this time that Little Babaru began to take shape again — as a place to document small moments, creative snippets, uplifting thoughts, and images from a year marked by pregnancy, birth, and early motherhood during COVID-19. A quiet record of how we coped, adapted, and found ways to nurture our little ones with what we had.
This space was never about perfection or polished words — but about showing up honestly, and holding space for ourselves and each other.
“ the calm age when parenting gets easier…maybe six ”
six years on } a different season of motherhood
Little Babaru was born in the quiet intensity of the COVID years — a time when motherhood felt raw, isolating, and deeply transformative. Those early years were shaped by survival, by holding space for mothers finding connection and voice while the world slowed and uncertainty lingered.
Six years on, life has shifted into a very different rhythm.
My children are now in school and our days are shaped by school runs, packed lunches, homework rhythms, and growing independence. Motherhood hasn’t become easier but it has become steadier. There is more breath between moments, more space to reflect and a gentle re-emergence of self alongside family life.
This season is about balance and shared support. My husband has been a grounding presence through this transition - supporting the practical rhythms of home, encouraging space for my wellbeing, and helping create a steadiness that allows me to show up more fully as a mother, a creative, and a woman in my own right. Motherhood no longer feels like something I carry alone.
I am learning how to care for myself alongside caring for my family — weaving in slow mornings, movement, prayer, time on the allotment, and creative work that nourishes rather than drains. Mindfulness now lives in the everyday: in routines, in nature, in choosing a gentler pace where possible.
Little Babaru has evolved with me — from a place of holding mothers through crisis, to one that reflects grounded living, sensory calm, and the ongoing journey of motherhood beyond the early years. It is no longer about getting through the day, but about living it with intention.
This is motherhood after the storm — quieter, deeper, and rooted.