I am, of course, flooded with them, though I’m a bit less rabidly psychotic than I was a couple of weeks ago. At the moment, they’re taking the form of apocalyptic fantasies - and not fun ones. I seem to be spending all my time worrying about something terrible happening, and Daisy being left all alone to cope with it. What am I thinking, bringing children into the world, when within their lifetime the odds are, the sea levels will rise, most of the land will be flooded, the oil will run out, and the world will descend into anarchy and open warfare over the production of food and drinking water, never mind anything else?

And if that doesn’t happen, some massive terrorist thing will come along and wipe out half the city/country/continent, creating a similar post-apocalyptic survival situation for her. The world’s going to hell in a handcart, and poor Daisy will have to survive in it. And there’s nothing I can do to protect her, except get cavity wall insulation. And some cavity walls to put it in.

I may need to monitor my media input a little more carefully. I’m not sure I’m doing myself any favours by listening to Radio 4 at the moment.

The age of consent is sixteen in this country - why does the government treat anyone under twenty who chooses to have a child as a social pariah? Are we not physically best primed to do it then, rather than waiting till we’re all thirty? And do they really think that they can legislate so that sixteen and seventeen year olds can legally marry and have children, but not be allowed to leave school?

So, two things have struck me, this week. One was the shock announcement that Manchester are to get the Super-Casino (and the most satisfying part of that business was the thought of all those journalists running from Blackpool to Manchester, because they didn’t expect it), and the possibility of lone parents being put under pressure to find work when their children are still under sixteen.

Of the first, I’m frankly alarmed. It seems to me that Blackpool was the ideal location to limit the potential damage of such an establishment. It’s a tourist destination, in a relatively lightly populated area - most of the customers would therefore arrive with a finite and pre-calculated amount of money in their pockets, and leave when it had gone. I’m sure there would be some “ambient” trade from local people, and that for some it would create serious problems, but Blackpool’s a little place, so surely the damage would be limited by that fact.

Manchester is not a major tourist destination, unless you’re a closet Man City fan wanting to pay homage at the ground. It is a large and thriving city, with a radius of nearly twenty miles, and all the social problems that one associates with big cities. I’m no expert, but I would have thought that most of the trade would be “ambient”, and from within that radius, and that the presence of the casino in that location has the potential to destroy many, many peoples’ lives.

I was delighted to discover that Liverpool wasn’t even on the shortlist. We’re not even getting one of the littler ones, and long may that situation continue.

The other thing leaves me torn, pretty much. I don’t know what I think; I hate it when I don’t know what I think, but at least I have the courage to own up over it. I can see the argument, that my taxes (not that I pay any myself, you understand) are going up to cover the cost of keeping lone parents at home, and there is a social and economic justification for trying to limit the extent of that reality. But on the other hand, I believe in parents. Unlike the current government, current opposition, and a never-ending torrent of think tanks and pressure groups with a wide range of biases, I don’t see “affordable, quality childcare” as the solution to all society’s ills. In fact, I see it as the evil of the day. Children need parents. The younger the children, the more they need them, and they are spending more time away from their parents than they ever have before.

Tiny children need to know that you’re there, you’re not going anywhere, and that if they step away to do something new and interesting, you will still be there when they get back. Apparently, the detectable stress-levels of babies and toddlers in childcare is more or less directly proportional to the amount of time they spend there. There is no safe level, below which they are fine - they are more or less stressed according to how much of their life they spend away from Mum.

More controversially, I also believe that bigger children need parents, too. I believe that children need to feel safe, secure and loved, in order to be able to take any risks at all in life, and all forms of education and individual development involve taking risk. Actually, I believe that’s true of adults, too, they’re just capable of finding that security and confidence in different places. I think school starts too young, in this country, and I think that a child’s needs are best met by someone who knows that child. Because, actually, they’re all different. They develop in different ways at different rates, they have different strengths and weaknesses, and the minute you try to categorize them, they start to be short-changed. You can’t say “All children of eleven can walk home from school alone,” because some children of that age are a complete liability. A friend of mine had two girls, nearly three years apart, the younger of whom was allowed to use the sharp knives in the kitchen some time ahead of her sister, because she was careful enough, and her sister would most likely lose a digit. It’s about knowing your child, and it’s about the person who knows that child most intimately being left alone to make those decisions.

So how can I, from the luxurious position of being kept on my husband’s wage to take care of my daughter in whatever way I see fit, possibly criticize someone who’s child deserves the same treatment, even if the finances make it less easy to achieve?