Preschools, Skinny Friends, and War

I've looked at three facilities this week. I think I may have found the one but it's quite different from what he's used to. But really, anyplace would be different. His friends wouldn't be able to move with him as they only have one spot and we're still waiting to hear if he'll get that spot. If he does get it, he'll move to going there 3 days a week July 9-August 3, then he'll have a week break, then go full time during the regular school year. I'm hoping for the best.

I picked him up early yesterday and we went downtown to visit our friend. She recently had weight loss surgery and boy, did she look smokin' hot! We really enjoyed the glass elevator and the free fruit. And, of course, the visit with "Wee" (as Aidan refers to her). He carried some flowers for her desk but complained the entire walk that they were "so heavy." She taught us how to clip the ends so the flowers will last longer and she was so nice that she even gave Aidan the orange flower, which is his favorite color and the only reason he chose the bouquet that he did!

Last night before bed we were reading Return to Neverland. The first page says that there is a war going on. Aidan says to me, "Mommy, what's a war?" So I tell him it's when people fight.
"When big men fight and want kill each other?"
"Well, yes. And sometimes women too."
"Do they kill people?"
"Well, yes. They kill each other."
"They kill people like me? Like us?"

This was difficult for me to hear him ask because I know that children his age and just as innocent are being killed in war elsewhere. So I woosed out and said, "Well, we don't have a war going on, so we're safe. There's no war here in our town." Then Aidan said as he was taking the book from me, "I don't want to read this book. I want to read a happy book." And that was it. Conversation over. I found out later that Jason had a similar conversation the night before. I guess he was checking to see if our stories matched. He must suspect that sometimes parents lie for your own good.

Honestly, I thought about not being entirely honest with him. But I couldn't look into his face and make up something that he'd later learn was fabricated or half-truths. I didn't go as far as to tell him that we could be in a war or that other little kids halfway across the world are being blown up each day. I spared him the extra information that might haunt him. But I also communicated to him that I'll always be honest with him, even when it's not easy to be. And to me, the more important thing is that I didn't pass judgment on war even though I don't believe it's the absolute answer. Although I'm certain that he was able to read the sadness that I have when I think about war or try to put into words something that I'm not entirely sure I understand. I'm guessing there will be many more of those conversations!