Tag: first-year-baby

The Yellow Moustache Diaries: Food Review by a 6-Month-Old

For six whole months, my menu was pretty simple: Mumma’s milk, served fresh and on demand. Life was good. Then suddenly, everyone started talking about something called “solids.” Apparently, this was a Very Big Deal.

The excitement actually began weeks before the big day. Mumma, Dadi and Motamummy spent hours researching first foods! Mumma was reading articles, watching videos, and asking every parent she knew for advice. Packages started arriving at our doorstep almost daily—silicone bowls, tiny spoons, bibs, sippers, food-grade feeders, suction plates, and all sorts of baby dining accessories. If there was a gadget for a baby starting solids, chances are Mumma bought it.

And then there was my fancy new high chair, lovingly gifted by Raju Uncle and family! Thank you Misha Didi. It had been sitting in the corner for weeks, waiting for its grand debut. Every time Mumma walked past it, she’d smile excitedly and say, “Soon, Sharva!” Finally, the big day arrived. 30th May, 2026, a Saturday!

My very first meal was moong dal porridge—a traditional and gentle first food chosen with lots of love and care. But honestly, the food wasn’t the main attraction. The audience was.

My Dadu, Dadi, Chachu, Chachi, Naniji, Mumma, Papa—everyone was there. My Motamummy and Motapappa were on videocall. It felt less like Lunch and more like a championship final. Cameras were charged. Phones were ready. Dadi made me offer my first meal to all my god friends in the temple in our house.

After that everyone gathered around my high chair, smiling, laughing, and cheering me on. The room was filled with excitement, nervousness, anticipation, pride, and about a hundred other emotions that grown-ups seem to experience all at once.

Meanwhile, I was mostly interested in the colorful bowls and spoons. The bright silicone utensils and shiny silver bowl immediately caught my attention. I poked them, grabbed them, waved them around, and generally inspected the equipment before agreeing to participate in the actual eating part.

Then came the moment. My first bite, that my Mumma fed me. I opened my mouth, tasted the porridge, paused, and gave everyone my best look of complete confusion.

Wait.

What was THAT?

It wasn’t milk.

It wasn’t familiar.

It was warm, soft, and entirely new.

The adults held their breath. I thought about it. I made a funny face. Everyone laughed. And then, surprisingly, I decided it wasn’t so bad. Spoon after spoon, I kept going. The cheering grew louder with every successful bite. Before anyone knew it, I had eaten almost the entire meal. The adults looked as if I had just won an Olympic medal.

Naturally, I couldn’t let things stay too neat. A good solids journey requires a proper mess. There was porridge on my new kurta. Porridge on my hands. Porridge on the tray. Somehow, there was even porridge where no porridge should logically have reached. By the end of the meal, I had developed a magnificent yellow moong dal moustache that everyone found absolutely hilarious.

Then came water. Now that was truly confusing. Why would anyone drink this clear, tasteless liquid when milk exists? I stared at the sipper suspiciously. I chewed it. I played with it. I spilled some. I looked deeply unconvinced by the entire concept. The grown-ups, however, were thrilled by every tiny sip.

Of course, no milestone is complete without photography. Between bites, smiles, funny faces, and the legendary dal moustache, hundreds of photos were taken. Someday, when I’m older, I suspect Mumma will show me every single one of them.

Looking back, my first solids meal wasn’t really about food. It was about love. It was about great grandparents and grandparents proudly watching another generation grow. It was about parents celebrating a milestone they had been eagerly waiting for. It was about family gathering together for something that might seem small to others but felt enormous to us.

A tiny bowl of moong dal porridge marked the beginning of a whole new adventure—one filled with new tastes, funny expressions, messy fingers, colourful plates, and countless memories. And if my first meal was any indication, this journey is going to be delicious. Mumma better be prepared, the critic is ready!

Love,
Sharva ❤️

Offering my food with my God Friends! 😇

First Reaction 😵‍💫

Pappa says Yum, so maybe it is Yum 🤔

Let me check 😎

Give me the bowl 🤤

Independent from the beginning 😂

What is this water thingy 🙄

What do you mean its over? 🫩

Half way to One and Step One towards Solids! 🥳

You get Cake, I get Dal and then you guys compensate with Kissi! 🥺

May 30, 2026
Not Just Ours, Their Sharva Too

There’s something incredibly magical about watching your little world grow bigger—not just with milestones and firsts, but with love pouring in from every direction. And for you Sharva, that love has come in the most beautiful, overwhelming ways, through Mumma and Pappa’s friends, their people!

It feels so special—almost indescribable—when friends go out of their way, beyond their busy schedules and daily chaos, just to hold you, see you, and shower you with affection. It’s not just visits, it’s intention. It’s love in action.

From day one, you were welcomed with open arms. Hinal masi, Navil masa, Yash mamu, and Palak mami made sure they were there right at the beginning—meeting you, blessing you, and instantly becoming a part of your little universe. And it didn’t stop there. Calls, messages, video calls, constant check-ins filled with warmth, as if distance was never really a thing. And they even found their way to Ahmedabad just to see you again.

Hinal masi has been your personal gift fairy, always bringing the cutest surprises that somehow feel just as warm as her hugs. Vidhu masi didn’t wait long either—she came all the way to Rajkot with love (and gifts!) and has always made it a point to meet you in Ahmedabad as often as she can.

Even from afar, love found its way. Ishani masi, though she couldn’t come in person, made sure you felt her presence through countless thoughtful gifts—each one a little piece of her love wrapped just for you.

And then there are the ones who made their way as soon as they could—Rohan chachu, Vasu mama, and Pranali chachi—arriving in Ahmedabad and coming straight to meet you, bringing along not just gifts, but memories we’ll always hold close. Harsha masi added her own special touch by sending the same things that Kush loves—because what’s loved once must be loved again.

And for all the many others who couldn’t physically be here, their love still reached you. Through calls, video calls, messages filled with excitement, curiosity, and affection—they made sure they knew you, and more importantly, that you would always know you are loved. Because that’s what this is, really. Love. Pure, effortless, abundant love.

Our baby boy, you may be tiny, but you are surrounded by something so big—an entire circle of people who love you like their own. And as parents, there is nothing more heartwarming than seeing your friends become your child’s people.

And somewhere in the middle of all this love, Mumma and Pappa have quietly realized something too—we truly have the best friends in the world. The kind who show up, who stay, who love deeply and selflessly. The kind who turn moments into memories and make this journey even more special. And one day you will realise that some of your “aunts” and “uncles” are the relates by blood – they are friends that we love so deeply, they became family. And that is the beauty of chosen family – love that goes beyond last names.

Sharva, you truly are one lucky little boy.

And our hearts? Just a little fuller because of it.

Vidhu Masi ❤️

Pranali Chachi ❤️

Vasu Mama ❤️

March 18, 2026
One Baby. Many Arms. Zero Silence.

15th January 2026. Some days feel bigger than the clock allows them to be. This was one of those days.

After spending the first one and a half months wrapped in the quiet comfort of Dadu and Dadi’s home in Rajkot, it was time for our little world to move again—this time to Motapappa and Motamummy’s in Ahmedabad. Of course, we left late. Not fashionably late, just family-with-a-newborn late. Bags half-checked, hearts full, and one tiny baby completely unaware that he was about to steal yet another household’s peace.

The car ride was one of those soft, in-between moments. City passing by, halt at Chotila, quick lunch at HFM, hushed conversations, stolen glances to make sure our miracle was still breathing, still sleeping, still perfect. Everything felt slow and fast at the same time.

And then—we arrived to your Mumma’s city.

If love could shout, Motamummy Motapappa’s home would have echoed. Balloons everywhere. Beautiful decorations. Cake waiting patiently. Doors opening wide like they’d been rehearsing for this moment. Aki Mamu’s joy was impossible to miss—pure, loud, overflowing happiness. Himani Masi came rushing in to meet you too, and suddenly the house was full of voices, laughter, movement, and arms competing for their turn.

It was chaos. Beautiful, noisy, heart-bursting chaos. Everyone wanted a glimpse. Everyone wanted a cuddle. Everyone wanted to say, “He’s here.” And in the middle of it all, you were calm, tiny, and completely in charge without even trying.

That day reminded us how love shows up differently in different homes—but always in abundance. It reminded us that family isn’t quiet, or orderly, or planned. It’s messy, loud, late, emotional and absolutely magical.

Now, for the next few weeks, this house will hold your days. You’ll grow here, nap here, be adored endlessly here. New routines, new memories, same overwhelming love.

But in all this happiness, we will miss Daddy and Stella deeply everyday. Daddy, whose presence makes everything feel complete, and Stella, whose playful energy and unconditional love are always part of our world. Motamummy’s house is full of warmth, but their absence will be felt in the quiet moments and gentle pauses of the day.

And one day, when you’re old enough to read this, I hope you smile knowing this:
Wherever you went, joy arrived before you did. And it always will. 💙

January 15, 2026
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. 💛

Mommy Duty

Daddy Duty

January 2, 2026