I say dump all three and let Caroline Lucas move in – hoorah!
Seriously though, I know what you’re thinking – ‘stop blathering on about the election and get back to your usual witty and intelligent take on the highs and lows of single parenting.’ Or something along those lines I’m sure… Well, I’m not about to apologise for another election post, even if it is a little off topic, because this stuff matters.
Sure it may be a bit dull, seeing the same recording of Clegg getting out of a car repeated over and over, but the decisions being made at the moment are crucial. If Clegg can stick to his guns and hold tight to his dream of proportional representation, they could even change the face of politics for ever.
If I were a cartoonist, which unfortunately I’m not, I’d sketch something here showing Nick Clegg stretched out on a chaise longue with Gordon Brown at one end peeling him a grape and David Cameron at the other, administering a foot rub.
Now clearly Clegg hasn’t had a good night. Polls over the last few weeks, since Clegg wowed us all with his TV talk of electoral reform, smaller class sizes and a fairer tax system, have predicted this election to be the most excited ever for the Lib Dems. The reality however was far from the liberal utopia many imagined. In fact, the yellow team managed to secure even fewer seats than in 2005. A bit of a shocker really – what happened there? Was the Lib Dem surge merely bravado? Did everyone chicken out when they actually got to the polling station and had the pencil in hand?
God only knows.
Although they have made some of the right noises – signing up for Gingerbread’s ‘Let’s Lose the Labels’ campaign for instance – I’m not convinced. The married couples’ tax allowance for example – I know, I know, it’s about ‘the message not the money’, but seriously, that’s WORSE. What kind of message are they trying to give exactly? Basically ‘we like married people more, so there.’
As the votes roll in I can’t help but feel a growing sense of dread. I have spent pretty much all of my adult life under a Labour government and quite frankly I’m scared. I’m all for ‘change’ – only last week I rearranged all the furniture in my kitchen – I’m just not mad keen on the kind of change that disempowers women and discriminates against the already marginalised sections of society. Call me old-fashioned, but there you go.
You may remember several weeks ago a post in which I begged in a very undignified fashion for you to nominate me for the new MAD blog awards. (Thats ‘Mums and Dads’, not an actual diagnosed condition, although I could probably get in on the back of the ADHD).
Well today I’m very pleased to report that thanks to everyone who nominated me, I have made the final five in the ‘Best New Blog’ category! Yay! You now have a month to vote for me as your favourite new blog of the last year. Go on then, why are you still here?
Seriously though, this next stage does make me feel a tad uncomfortable. When I was desperately seeking nominations, I never imagined I would be a finalist, and now I find myself in the rather awkward position of having to go through the arm twisting process all over again. Friends who tolerated my begging last time round – ‘no it’s easy honestly, just vote for ME!’ – may find their patience wearing thin.
Yesterday was my nephew’s first birthday.
I only have one nephew – my sister’s son – and no nieces. I never expected I would be an auntie by now, and I often wonder whether I am doing it right.
I imagined that when the time came I would somehow be further on with my life. I pictured myself much as I remember my Auntie Jill, my Dad’s sister, when I was young – a fleeting, exotic figure, always seeming to be doing something terribly exciting like riding a motorbike around Brighton or playing the tambourine in a Cajun band.
Either that or I would be a traveller, stopping in once or twice a year on my way to or from an airport, a string of rhino teeth round my neck, pulling bizarre and unique baby gifts from around the world out of a large patchwork bag.