Sleep deprived parents, politicians and presenters

After spending election night standing on the door of our local polling station, 7 year old daughter and I proudly sporting our yellow rosettes, I have been slightly floored by recent events.  Seeing the exit polls dominated by a sea of blue I felt truly depressed and went to bed, only to be woken by the Lib Dem I had been helping to campaign calling me at 1am to tell me that, although the polling station we had been at had been won, the seat remained with Labour.  I was gutted for him, and for his colleagues who had worked so passionately for the past year to try to win a seat at Westminster.

As the hung parliament was announced I was getting my hair highlighted, listening to the hairdresser tell me that she would have voted if it had been possible to do telephone votes like on X Factor. On my return I tried to keep the children abreast of what was going on.  The older one had understood the leaders debates as three people trying to win a race but post election when she first thought Nick Clegg (or Mick Legg as the 4 year old refers to him) had lost, then was being told the new Prime Minister depended entirely on who he was friends with she was as confused as the rest of us.  

Far from being a celebration Friday night was more like a wake.  Close friends were staying with us for their last night in the UK before emigrating to Canada and a steady stream of people came to say goodbye for the last time, two of whom were our Lib Dem friends who hadn’t slept in 24 hours and I struggled to be the carefree hostess I usually am with my father’s recent death still at the forefront of my mind.

On Tuesday, with news breaking of Gordon Brown’s resignation, plans to go out to celebrate our wedding anniversary were shelved in favour of sitting in front of BBC News 24 while the children gorged crisps and dip and we drank our celebratory champagne wondering if we actually had anything to celebrate.  I cried when Gordon Brown and his family left No.10 but contrary to what I had anticipated I didn’t cry when David Cameron entered it.  I am astonished that the Lib Dems have managed to wangle so many cabinet seats but absolutely delighted that they will stop the Tories doing evil things and that Vince Cable in particular is in a position to stop George Osborne doing anything rash with the economy. 

The day was bittersweet for other reasons too.  Happy as I am to be celebrating 14 years of marriage I cannot think about my wedding day without thinking of my father.  I have a photo beside my bed of the moment I emerged from my bedroom wearing my wedding dress and my father emerged from his in his morning suit.  We met on the landing and my brother inadvertently captured the moment on camera when my father bent down to kiss me and for the first time since I was a child referred to me as his ‘beautiful little girl’.  He was never forthcoming with compliments and the photo has been beside my bed ever since to remind me of it.

I still struggle to sleep.  Last night I only slept for two hours and consequently was like a bear with a sore head this morning, snapping at the children, forgetting things and running late.  However I feel that I am in no position to complain about sleep deprivation when the politicians and TV presenters have barely slept in over a week.  I have found myself worrying what the presenters skin is going to be like having been slapped with endless layers of powder and foundation as they keep the round the clock vigil in front of Downing Street and question the decisions the politicians are making on the back of 24 hour meetings.  I wouldn’t have liked to have been responsible for anything more important than packed lunch this morning let alone agreeing terms to run the country.