Dear Diary. I woke up today at 3:30 am with a hand touching my bum. At first, I thought it was Girlfriend. I wasn't in the mood for late-night nookie, and in fact, I was very angry at being woken up. "You've woken me up!" I hissed. Then I saw that it was 0-year-old touching my bum. He was rubbing his hand over my bottom. You hear of child molesters, but you never hear of children who are molesters, do you? I moved closer to the edge of the bed to get away from him. But now I was almost falling out of the bed. I stayed like that for an hour, wide awake and almost falling out of the bed before I decided to move to 4-year-old's bed where I thought there would be more room.

4-year-old was asleep on one side of his bed. So I lay down on the other side and tried to fall asleep. The pillow was so hard and lumpy that it took me an hour to fall asleep. Then 4-year-old woke me up by kicking me in his sleep. It was 7:20 am by this point. The bright blue sky was shining through the window.

I like Birmingham city centre. I can see why people live there. The people of Birmingham are generally happy. There's diversity too - Muslims, skinheads, Sikhs, and even a few goths and punks. You can be who you want to be here.

A teenage girl with a shaved head, looking like Natalie Portman in V for Vendetta. A Muslim man in a black robe getting on an escalator in Birmingham Central Library. Three muscular black men take turns to break dance in Centenary square, stopping when a two-year-old boy runs onto the mat, causing everyone to smile, including the muscular break dancers. A man with a horse mask over his head, playing a keyboard for money on which rests a sign that says "Saving for an engagement ring". A tired-looking white man, balding prematurely and with several layers of bags under his eyes, and with a back hunched over due to spending an inordinate number of hours on the computer. Wait, that last one was me.