Cold Weather

Sunday night, Kaleb puked up his koolade.  On my couch.  It was red.  He had a fever of 101.  Kurtis and I tried to make him comfortable.  Kurtis placed his hands on his head and said a prayer.  The next morning, he got up, got dressed and was a happy boy.  He went to school.  Then, around 4:30, he started to not feel well again.  He said his tummy hurt.  An hour later, he threw up again.  Then, two hours after that, he threw up a third time.  I hate puke.  The thing about Kaleb is that he throws up so rarely, he can't remember the last time it happened.  I can't either, to be honest.  But after he threw up, because he didn't like the taste in his mouth, he refused to swallow.  Then the drooling that causes makes him cry.  He's a mess.  Yes, we gave him water to rinse out his mouth with.  It doesn't matter.  Once we got him to swallow again, he calmed down.  Yesterday, he stayed home from school.  He ate a little here and there, regaining his strength.  Today, he is fine.  He still doesn't eat as much as he should, but he went to school.
Today, is a crisp autumn day.  There is a slight breeze that comes and goes.  The sun is shining, though, and my black coat soaks up it's rays as Kaleb and I walked to school.  He refused to wear a hat, but I made him wear put the hood on his coat up to try and keep his ears warm.  He said everything was warm except his face and his legs.  I told him at least he was wearing pants, so that should help.  I walk faster than he does, so he lagged behind a little.  I waited for him at the corner, and we held hands as we crossed the street.  He'd put his mitten in his mouth, and it was wet, but I held on any way.  He said there was a hair in his mouth.  I told him to take his glove off and take it out.  He didn't want to do that.  My hand gets colder.  We walk a little further, and I tell him my hands are cold.  I put my hand back in my pocket.  "I want to hold hands, Mom."  "Oh.  Okay."  We switch sides so I can warm my cold hand.  I need a new pair of gloves.  Or at least to find my old ones.  They are light blue.  I bet they are in my room somewhere.  "Mom?"  "What?"  "Will you come pick me up after school?"  "Why do you want me to pick you up after school?"  "Because I will miss you."
We get to the school, and he asks me to wait for him until the bell rings.  I never did that with my other kids, but with him I do.  I don't have any little kids to rush home for a nap, so I figure, why not.  I tell him he will be warmer if he runs around and plays with the other kids.  He says he is too cold and doesn't want to.  A boy in his class comes over, takes off his coat, and runs to play.  Two minutes later, he's back again for his coat.  I don't blame him.  It's 39 degrees.  Last week it was 70.  The teacher comes out to ring the bell, and asks Kaleb if he is feeling better today.  He says he is.  I hug him.  Sometimes he doesn't hug me good bye any more.  I wish he would.
 As I walked home alone, it seemed colder to me.