They're only little once, right?

...let me begin by saying that I am wholly committed to extended breastfeeding, and letting my son wean himself at this own pace and when he's ready.  I wouldn't be nursing a toddler (34 months!)  if that weren't true.  With that being said...

Little Man is wearing me out.

Our entire family has been battling a weird cold/allergies/cough bug.  Just when you think you're over it, BAM!  Another annoying symptom.  Drake gets the worst of these, I think, because he's exposed to all the germs that his two older siblings carry home from school.  With an immune system already going haywire from all the new pollen he isn't used to, he's got no chance to stay cough free.

About a month ago I decided it was time to night wean my booby monster.  We have co-slept since he came home from the hospital, and the bed was getting a little crowded.  He was wanting to nurse when he awoke at night, I was waking up when he wanted to nurse, and neither of us were truly getting any sleep.  Drake has moved from needing breastmilk for nutrition to using it for comfort, so I was okay with putting a limit on night nursing.  At the time, DH was suffering from an infected tooth, and was sleeping upright in his recliner to ease the pressure in his face.  Perfect!  I put Little Man to sleep, wrapped him up, and placed him on the couch.  When he awoke, Dad was there to take over, and Drake inevitably went right back to sleep.  No booby, no Mama.  We were both in a better mood.

Now, Little Man isn't fully weaned.  He wants to nurse for his nap (if he takes one, but those are also spreading further and further apart), and its better than a band-aid for a boo boo.  But now he's sick.  And he wants Mama.  And bewbie.  Lots and lots and lots of bewbie.

I feel bad for him, I do.  And I know that all that white gold will help him get better faster, and keep him hydrated.  Its just one hell of an adjustment going from one brief ( two or three minute) nursing session every other day to feeling as if I'm nursing a newborn again.  Every time I sit down, he's on my lap.  If I try to get up to do something selfish (like *gasp* pee) he wails in DH arms.  He's slowly killing me.  I'm turning into a sleep deprived, bedraggled, unshowered Mama.  I smell like Vicks baby rub.  I have boogers crusted on my arm where he napped today.

But he needs me.  And that little glazed doughnut face looking at me, begging to nurse...who can say no?  They're only little once, right?