my emotions have been fuzzy. not a sweet kind of fuzzy but a numb kind of fuzzy. flat and confused. tired. overwhelmed. anxious.

i keep trying to wrap my head around what happened to my little boy and what has transpired since.

the first week of august brody started having horrible nightmares. crying himself to sleep. waking up in the middle of the night bawling. refusing to go to the bathroom alone. wetting his pants.

luckily for us, brody talks. and talk and talks.

to our horror, he recounted stories about friday the 13th, teenagers being drowned, children being terrorized with axes at summer camp, candyman in the mirror...on and on. when asked who told him these stories he said his teacher did during camp fire at school.

he's 4 years old.

luckily for brody, his parents fight back.

he was pulled from the school immediately. it wasn't convenient. it wasn't simple. we juggled him at home for a week. he asked us everyday why he couldn't see his friends. we called over 20+ schools with no openings. it's preschool. it's fall. they were all full.

going back to the old school wasn't an option. the teacher was still employed in his classroom and the director was threatening to dis-enroll him for what she said were false allegations, claimed that we were being difficult and they were spending too much time dealing with it.

we finally found a new school. he is happy. we are happy.

the director is likely losing her job. rightfully so. we'll find out next week.

many parents reached out to me. gave advice. gave hugs. helped find daycares. listened to me. set up play dates with brody so he could say goodbye.

some though didn't. some distanced themselves from me. as if i were a threat to them. a threat to how others may perceive them. some took sides with the preschool as if we did this. as if we were the problem. we didn't ask for this to happen to us. my little boy didn't ask to be told these cruel stories. but when someone hurts your child and you don't fight back...you have already failed them at a very young age.

i wonder sometimes what i will say to the director if i run into her. most things are better left unsaid but i will indeed tell her that she messed with the wrong kid.