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 ”
I’ve asked myself countless times over the six years of parenting, two boys, two and half years apart, has meant a near-constant stream of neediness of some sort or another since the birth of my first little babaru. Of course, that stream is lined with the flowers of joy and wonderment that go along with those early years, so it hasn’t all been bad. In fact, in many ways, the baby, toddler, preschool years have been so blissful, as well as challenging. Wish I could in some way repeat it again especially the baby years.
Have you noticed it now gets easier, slowly from endless to do list as a mama, then one by one, each of those things we need to do for our little babaru’s drops off of our daily or hourly to do list. My little babaru’s start sleeping better, their potty trained {or training still}, eventually, they stop napping. They get themselves dressed. They move into booster seats.
It takes forever, but before we know it our little babaru’s are remarkably self-sufficient. And when that happens with our youngest son, we realise that parenting does get easier. It’s still hard in emotional ways, but logistically, there is a definitive shift at some point.
For me, that shift occurred when our eldest son turned six. That was the magical age when parenting got significantly easier, at least in the practical sense. I no longer needed those endless trips to buy nappies or organix baby snacks. I still however {probably for another two more years, now our youngest is four years old} have to keep a close eye on them especially the little one bullying his brother…can name a list of bittersweet joyful things this particular little babaru does to keep us on our toes.
Beyond all, there was a gradual transition through ages four and five. But there was something about six that signalled a whole new era for us. For me, really. My husband is amazing, but a lot of the work in those early years were mama heavy and now I feel much more relaxed and leave it to baba jaan {daddy} to deal with as this. His simply enjoying this blissful age and joy between the two. And the freedom from those things that I loved - nursing, carrying my babies, teaching my toddlers…
I feel lighter than I ever anticipated that I thought I would miss those adorable ages of nursing, late nights, naps, teaching my toddlers and pre-schooler but I don’t because I lived that era. I lived it fully, with no regrets as being a full-time hand on, active mama I feel like I’m ready for this new stage.
They say that parenting doesn’t get easier, it just gets hard in different ways, and I think that’s true. But for me, getting a break from the relentless needs of the infant and toddler era really does feel like having a weight lifted. So, if you’re deep in the trenches of the early years, know that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Age six, I’m telling you. It’s magical and much calmer.
So now it’s a new {me} time to rediscover myself again, find that new balance between health and work…well only between the hours of 9-2.45pm before pick up begins and we start all over again.