PFB - A reality.

PFB. Precious First Born. Statistics show* that around 90% of mothers suffer from believing such ridiculous notions as sugar making children explode into a trillion pieces, dust being as radioactive as krytponite is to superman and of course, who can forget the mother-in-law's plans to not just eat your baby, but serve him as a centre piece, complete with apple in mouth at her next WI meeting.
Contrary to some belief, PFB is not about favouritism of your first born child as the Daily Mail suggest but rather a state of mind which overtakes, no, consumes your every waking moment, and if you've got it really bad those precious few you sleep for too.
It is talked about worldwide with mothers so utterly convinced that they are NOT PFB that even the most innocent 'Is Quentin your first?' can make them flip and react terribly violently, of course, this is after they have covered Quentin's eyes and ears and dressed in a space suit whilst gargling dettol just incase they come into any contact with germs whilst scrapping.
Who are you to tell all about PFBisms I hear you ask, well, not only was i a fully fledged ember of PFBANON, I have well and truly Got Over It. MY proof? Less than 15 minutes ago I was sharing a chinese take-away with not just my partner, our eight year old and four year old, but our 16 month old son. PFB mothers everywhere are gasping in horror, swallowing valium by the handful and calling the Social Services on me.
But guess what...IT WON'T HARM HIM (unless he eats it every day for a month).

GET A GRIP YOU LOONS.

Unless you live in the outback or are Rwandan Missionaries there really is no need for a bug net to cover your baby's moses basket. There really isn't, and, come to think of it, you don't need a moses basket, a swinging crib, a cot, a cot bed and a bed for one child. Orphanages survive on less. Seriously.
Babygros are made for babies to wear all day. Sure, if they vomit all over it, get a clean one but Little Jemima really Does Not Need 8 pretty little dresses, with matching tights and nappy knickers, a day.
A buggy is not doing your baby any favours by having suspension and being in the same boakworthy blossom pink as her coat.
Babies cannot read, and you are the only one, yes, The. Only. One that thinks t-shirts saying 'I love my mummy and daddy' are just soooo cute.
If you don't know how to cook aubergine and sweet potato chances are you don't actually eat it so why not stick to carrot and swede? Annabel Karmel may be the Queen of Purees but they're, like, totally last season darrrrrling. It's all about carrot sticks and broccoli florets.
Your baby is NOT forward because you get them to do something earlier than they are expected. Pouring spoonfuls of pureed mush down their throat is not the same as them being so grown up that they are eating 'early'.
Mother-in-laws, there is a whole other post waiting to be written about this but, for now, just listen. Take her help, everything she ever offers to do, let her do it. It will stand you in good stead once you've got over the PFB crap and are desperate for a sitter she'll be so used to having them there will be no question. If you're really clever, you'll teach them "Granny" as their first word.
Teletubbies, In the Night Garden and Fimbles are sent from heaven, truly, they are not over-commercial tat that will fry the brains of the dear child, but fabulous TV that can work alongside you like the best au pair in loco parentis, that is of course if you dare to put the baby down anywhere, I mean, it's been a whole fifteen minutes since you disinfected everywhere.
Grizzling and whinging for a few minutes will not result in a life-time of therapy however calling them Tinkerbell-Trixibella-Lulabelle-Boo may do, espcially if her birth certificate reads Sarah Amelia Smith.
Oh, and just incase you haven't quite got the gist of PFBisms, look at this. IT explains it better than I ever could PFB eat your heart out .

Dirt, mess, fun, laughter and tears, it's what Perfect Childhoods are made out of.


*I asked ten of my mates and nine agreed.