Why did I wake up at 2:00 AM?

I woke up at 2:00 AM worrying about too many things. I'm not sure which one woke me up, but they took turns nagging my brain until I got up and wrote down my anxieties:

• The recommendations for home staging
• How I told my boss that I'm moving
• The latest poop incident
• My high school memories of special-needs kids

The recommendations for home staging

On Tuesday, while I was at work, a lady came to our house, took pictures, and took $250.

That's my tired attempt to make a joke out of home staging. AF was at home to show her around and write the check. Then she sent us a link to an online photo album, with her recommendations as a caption under each photo.

Some of her suggestions were expected and acceptable: Repaint the walls, refinish the floors, and pack away the clutter. However, AF and I will need to discuss some of her other suggestions. For example, she recommended that we move JF's easel from the living room to his bedroom. The problem with this is that JF requires supervision while using the easel, and it's easier to supervise when the easel is downstairs. We don't want him to leave his mark on newly painted walls!

So we'll need to figure out which of the recommendations we should heed to the letter, which ones we should compromise on, and which ones we should ignore. I'm making a spreadsheet to sort these out.

How I told my boss that I'm moving

Also on Tuesday, I told my boss that I'm planning to move to Howard County within the next few months, which will increase my commute from 20 or so minutes each way, to an hour or more each way. I told her that I intend to stay with the company until the current project is done.

I think my boss is a nice person, but sometimes it's hard to read her. I couldn't tell whether she was happy for me or angry that I'm leaving.

I asked about regular telecommuting, but she said, "Not gonna happen." So I dropped the subject with, "Oh well, we'll just see how it goes, then."

Later in the day, I asked my boss whether all of my stock options will expire when I leave. She said she'd find out for me, and then asked when I'm planning to leave.

Why did she ask me that? Did she not understand that I was leaving when I told her the first time? Did she think she was going to get a different answer? I had already given her the only answer that I can give!

I held in my temper, and repeated: "I will be moving in the next few months. Then I intend to stay until the current project is done." I refuse to be baited into making a promise that I can't keep!

I don't know how long it will take to prepare this house for selling, or how long it will take to sell, or how long it will take us to move, or how long I can stand an hour-long commute for a job I don't enjoy anymore. I don't know what the future holds for the current project, but I know that software projects can be delayed, and delayed, and delayed. All I know is that I owe it to my friends to do my share of the work for this project before I leave.

Not being able to telecommute regularly will probably shorten the amount of time that I can stand to stay, but I shouldn't have to spell that out for my boss.

The latest poop incident

When I came home from work last night, AF told me that I had missed a good one.

JF had been playing upstairs while AF was trying to find something on the computer downstairs. Suddenly, AF heard the toilet flushing. AF ran up the stairs, worried about what might have been lodged in the drain pipes.

He found JF with his pants off, the toilet apparently plugged up, sopping wet and poopy underwear hanging over the edge of the toilet, and poop everywhere.

AF's recounting of this incident had me hiccuping with laughter.

We knew JF had watched how we respond to a poop accident: We dump poop from his underwear into the toilet, gingerly rinse the poopy underwear in the toilet, and flush while maintaining a grip on the underwear.

But we didn't know JF that was capable of mimicking these actions!

My high school memories of special-needs kids

When I was in high school, a girl named Tina sat next to me in one of my classes. Looking back now, I think she had Down's Syndrome. She often had headaches, and would occasionally lean her head on my shoulder. She told me about kids who teased her, and I tried to be supportive. But I never went out of my way to be nice to her.

There was another special-needs kid that I met briefly, but the circumstances weren't ideal. I had my lunch tray and was looking for a place to sit. As I walked past one long table, a few of the kids sitting there invited me to sit down. This had never happened before. I was wary, but I sat down.

If I remember correctly, it was a mixed group, boys and girls. They started talking to me about how hard it is to play the dating game. They asked me what kind of guy I was interested in. I may have said something like, "Tall, dark, and handsome." I may have added that I would like to meet a bookworm like myself.

Then they introduced me to a young man sitting in their midst. I don't remember whether I even noticed him until they pointed him out. He may have been sitting in a wheel chair. I think he didn't have complete control over his arms, legs, or mouth. Maybe he had muscle spasms. I definitely remember dark hair, large glasses, and his mouth hanging open.

I honestly didn't know what was going on until they started explaining how this young man was exactly what I was looking for. The young man was looking at me with a hopeful smile.

I felt betrayed, humiliated, and trapped.

I tried to think of a way out, that wouldn't hurt the young man's feelings. But while I tried to think, my reaction was already starting to hurt him. His smile had disappeared, and I could see tears in his eyes. I stood up, took my tray, and said to the young man, "These people are not your friends. They are tricking both of us. I'm sorry." Then I walked away as fast as I could.

I was not mature enough to humor them, face my fears, and give the young man my friendship. I regret my behavior back then, to both of these special-needs kids.

Now I look at my son and worry about his future. Will he have bullies? Will the majority of his classmates ignore him? Will he have any friends?

We'll find out eventually, I guess.