Tag: bonding

  • Motamummy’s House Rule: Baby First, Logic Later

    Motamummy’s House Rule: Baby First, Logic Later

    One day, when you’re big enough to read this on your own, we want you to know something. Before you ever remembered anything, you were already the center of everything.

    Motamummy’s house was a place where time moved slowly, arms were always ready to hold you, and love showed up loudly and unapologetically. It was you, your mom, motamummy, japa aunty, mamu, motapappa—and a whole lot of laughter wrapped around a very tiny human.

    You didn’t need toys back then. You had people. People who made absolute fools of themselves just to see your eyes widen. We sang you the weirdest songs—songs with no tune, no logic, and lyrics that changed mid-way. Sometimes we sang about milk. Sometimes about your tiny hands. Sometimes we just sang your name like it was the greatest song ever written. Motamummy took these performances very seriously. You watched us like we were fascinating or mildly confusing. Either way, you stayed quiet, so we counted it as a win.

    And oh, your expressions. You had this way of looking at us like you were already figuring things out. A serious face that made us wonder what you were thinking. A sudden smile that made the entire room freeze and then explode with happiness. Sometimes you made a face so strange that all of us burst out laughing together. You had no idea why—but somehow, you were the joke and the joy at the same time.

    We didn’t just talk to you. We talked as you. In a deep, confident voice, we’d say things like:
    “Relax everyone, I’m in charge here.”
    “Yes motamummy, I know I’m cute.”
    “Mamu, good effort. You may sing again.”

    We gave you a personality long before you could show us yours. You were witty. Slightly dramatic. Very aware of how adored you were. And motapappa—oh, motapappa adored you in the quietest, purest way. Day in and day out. Holding you, looking at you like you were the answer to something he’d been waiting for. You didn’t have to do anything. Just being you was enough.

    We talked about your future a lot. At motamummy’s house, you were already a singer, a storyteller, a traveler, a dreamer. Sometimes you were all of those in one afternoon. We imagined you laughing, walking into rooms with confidence, being kind, being curious. No matter who you became, one thing was always certain—you would be deeply loved.

    I watched all of this with a smile I didn’t even know I was wearing, already saving these moments for later. Motamummy held you like the world could wait. Japa aunty stood close, proud and protective. Mamu brought noise and fun. Motapappa brought calm and endless love. And you—so small, so new—somehow made everyone feel complete.

    Motamummy’s house wasn’t just where you stayed. It was where you were celebrated. Where your earliest days were filled with laughter, silly songs, made-up stories, and a family that thought you were magic. 

    One day, you won’t remember any of this. So we’re writing it down for you. So you know that before you could speak, you were spoken for. Before you could laugh, you were the reason we did. And before you knew what family meant, you were already surrounded by it—every single day. Always remember this:

    You were loved from the very beginning. 🤍

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    Tummy time
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    Sleepy baby
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    Sharva becomes Sharvari
  • Loved Across Every Distance

    Loved Across Every Distance

    This is something written for you to read someday—when you’re older and curious about how deeply you were loved, even during the moments you were away from people who loved you.

    When you went to your Motamummy and Motapappa’s house in Ahmedabad for the first time, something quietly changed back in Rajkot. The house felt a little calmer, a little quieter. And your Dadu and Dadi felt your absence in the smallest moments and missed you more than words could ever explain.

    They called often. Not because they had any questions —but because you were important.

    “Is he awake?”
    “What did he do today?”
    “Did he smile?”

    Every call was really just another way of being close to you. Hearing about your day, seeing your face on the screen, listening to your tiny sounds—it filled their hearts in a way nothing else could. They missed holding you. They missed watching you sleep. They missed the way you made even ordinary days feel special.

    Your Dadi carried you in her thoughts all day long. She spoke about you constantly—what you must be doing, how fast you were growing, how much she wished she could hold you just once more that day.

    And then there is your Dadu. He is never someone who shows much on the outside. Quiet, reserved, not very expressive. But with you, something changed. His love came out in little questions he asked again and again, just to know more about you. It showed in the way his face lit up every time your name was mentioned, in that big smile he couldn’t hide. I had never seen him like that before. You brought out a tenderness in him that words never could.

    And when they both talked—almost every conversation came back to you. You were the center of their world, even when you weren’t in the room. From far away, they loved you quietly, completely, endlessly. Distance never changed that. If anything, it only made their love reach farther.

    So when you read this one day, remember:
    Even when you were at your Motamummy and Motapappa’s house being loved day in day out, you were never really away from your Dadu and Dadi. You were always with them—in their calls, their conversations, their smiles, and most of all, their hearts. You were and are loved more than you could ever imagine by everyone.

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  • The Great Snuggle and Snacks Era

    The Great Snuggle and Snacks Era

    Sharva one day, when you’re older and reading this, you probably won’t remember these days at all. But we will. Because they mattered.

    You are five weeks old, and since a few days the world feels big and loud to you. You have begun to wake up to it. Your eyes are staying open a little longer. Your cries are sounding more urgent. And you suddenly seem to need us in a deeper, more intense way than before. These few weeks as the internet suggests are often called a “fussy phase,” but that word doesn’t quite capture it. You aren’t being difficult. You are learning how to be human.

    Right now, you want to eat often—sometimes what feels like all the time. You want to feed, pause for a short rest, and then want to eat again. Cluster feeding is your way of growing, finding comfort, and telling our bodies and hearts exactly what you need. To us, it means long evenings on the couch, soft lights, and learning patience in new ways. To you, it means safety.

    You also don’t want to be put down. At all. You sleep best on our chests, curled up against the steady rhythm of a heartbeat you have known long before you were born. All you want is contact naps. If we try to lay you in your cot or bassinet, you let us know—loudly—that you aren’t ready. And so your Dad, your dadi and I hold you back. A lot. Arms tired, backs sore, but hearts full.

    There are moments your Dad and I  wonder if you are feeling unwell. But the truth is, you are doing exactly what newborns are meant to do. You are asking for closeness. For warmth. For reassurance that the world outside the womb is still safe. And every time we pick you up, every time we let you nap on us or feed you again even though you have just eaten, we arw answering you the only way that matters: We’re here.

    These weeks will pass, as all seasons do. You will slowly learned to settle. You will sleep longer. You will need us in new ways instead of constant ones. But this chapter will always stay with us.

    So if you’re reading this years from now, know this:
    You were never “too much.”
    You were never needy.
    You were learning, growing, and loving the only way you knew how.

    And we loved you right back—every fussy, clingy, beautiful minute of it. 💛

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    Mommy Duty
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    Daddy Duty
  • A Year of Firsts: Welcoming 2026 With You

    A Year of Firsts: Welcoming 2026 With You

    As the calendar turns and the world steps into 2026, Sharva, you are  just one month old. You don’t know what a “new year” is yet. You don’t know about resolutions, countdowns, or fireworks. Right now, your whole universe is made of warm arms, familiar voices, milk, sleep, and the simple comfort of being held. And yet, this New Year feels bigger and more meaningful than any before it—because it is our first one with you.

    Before you arrived, life was full, busy, and familiar. Days moved quickly. Nights were quiet. Plans were made far in advance, and time felt predictable. We didn’t realize how much space there was in our hearts until you showed us. Life before you wasn’t empty—it just didn’t yet know what it was missing.

    Then you arrived. In an instant, everything changed. Time slowed down and sped up all at once. Nights became shorter, days felt softer, and the smallest moments suddenly mattered the most. A tiny stretch, a yawn, the way you curl your fingers around ours—these became the highlights of our days. You made ordinary moments extraordinary simply by being here.

    Life after your arrival is louder in some ways and quieter in others. There is less sleep, but more meaning. Less routine, but more wonder. We see the world differently now, because we see it through the lens of loving you. You have already taught us patience, presence, and a deeper kind of joy than we ever knew before.

    And now we step into 2026 together.

    This year will be special—not because we know exactly what it will bring, but because it will be filled with your firsts. Your first smiles, your first laughs, your first words, your first discoveries of the world around you. You will grow more each day, and we will grow alongside you, learning how to be the people—and family—you need.

    When you read this someday, you might be much older. You might not remember these early days. But know this: as 2026 began, you were deeply loved. You were our greatest hope, our biggest change, and our favorite part of the future. And you were part of a family that includes not only people who adore you but also your fur sisters: one here to grow up with you, and one watching over you from heaven.

    This year wasn’t just a new year.
    It was the beginning of a life we couldn’t imagine before you.

    Welcome to 2026, little man.
    We’re so glad we get to walk into it with you. ❤️

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    Slumber Party on New Year’s Eve, 31st December 2025
  • For My First Babies : The One Who Stayed

    For My First Babies : The One Who Stayed

    For Stella : Growing With Us

    Stella,

    You stayed.

    You watched our world change, when Sharva arrived and walked right into this new life with us. Even when the days got louder and my attention was split, your love never wavered. You adjusted, you waited, you stayed close.

    You are my anchor during this new chapter. With your quiet presence and steady love, you keep me grounded through the beautiful chaos of welcoming Sharva. You remind me to slow down, breathe, and stay rooted in the moment—offering comfort, balance, and unconditional love when I need it most.

    Thank you for growing alongside Sharva—for teaching us loyalty, gentleness, and what unconditional love looks like without saying a word. You remind me every day that love isn’t about less time together, but about staying present through change.

    This new chapter is better because you’re in it.

    I am always going to be your mom! ❤️

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    My Babies 🧿
  • The Legend of the Monkey Boy 

    The Legend of the Monkey Boy 

    In the quiet hours of the day, there’s a tiny boy who rules the house. He’s small, warm, and brand new, with fingers that curl like they already know how to hold on. He is my newborn baby boy Sharva, though around here he goes by his official nickname: Monkey Boy.

    After a feeding, when it’s burping time, Monkey Boy transforms. Suddenly, he’s no longer a sleepy newborn—he’s a tiny jungle creature clinging for survival.  He presses himself against whoever is holding him, clinging with surprising determination. His little hands latch onto shirts, fingers, collars, and occasionally hair, as if gravity has personally offended him. Letting go is not an option.

    He presses his face into your chest, curls his legs in, and holds on with a strength that makes you wonder if he’s secretly been doing pull-ups when no one’s watching. Then, just when you start to think he’s forgotten why he’s there—BURP. A small, victorious sound, followed by an even tighter cling, like he’s proud of himself and wants a round of applause.

    Monkey Boy doesn’t know much yet, but he knows how to burp like a champ and cling like a pro. He knows how to hold on, and he does it with his whole heart. And somehow, between the burps and the baby grip of doom, he manages to make everyone laugh—and fall even more in love with him. 🐒💙

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    The Monkey Boy Burping with his favorites
  • Stitches, Swaddles, and Sleepless Nights

    Stitches, Swaddles, and Sleepless Nights

    The first week after you were born was quiet, blurry, and full of love. My body was healing from major abdominal surgery, and every movement reminded me that bringing you into the world took strength I didn’t know I had. Still, every time I held you, the discomfort faded into the background.

    You woke at the most random hours—middle of the night, early morning, moments when the world felt completely still. Sleep no longer followed a clock. I fed you in soft, dim light, holding you close while you nursed. Breastfeeding wasn’t always easy at first, but each feed felt like a small victory we shared together.

    Those nights were when I truly began to know you. I noticed the way you wrapped your fingers around mine, how your breathing slowed once you were full, how safe you felt resting on my chest. We were both learning—me learning how to be your mother, and you learning the world, one gentle moment at a time.

    But you were never held by just me. Your dad was there from the very beginning—steady, patient, and full of love. He lifted you when my body needed rest, changed you in the quiet hours, and made sure I was okay so I could take care of you. Your dadi, motamummy, motapappa, chachu were just as much a part of those first few days. They watched over you with endless care, helped soothe you, stayed awake with us and wrapped all of us in comfort when everything felt new and overwhelming.

    That first week wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy—but it was full. Full of hands that held you, hearts that adored you, and a family that showed up for you in every way. From the very start, you were surrounded by love, support, and warmth.

    Always remember this: you were nourished, protected, and deeply loved—not by one person, but by athe enitre family—right from your very first days.

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    💙🧿