Our little Deak has never been known as a great sleeper. Abby would sleep 12 - 13 hours a night (still does actually) and take a 4 hour nap, at two years old. We're lucky to get 9 hours out of Deak, and maybe a 1 -2 hour nap. I can't say I blame him though. He struggled to breathe enough air in at nights his first year of life, and has dealt with countless ear infections in his second year. Plus, he is always hungry (partly due to his asthma meds, and a few rounds of steriods.) Needless to say, there have been some days when I have wondered how I have even functioned, let alone do things like drive a car and attempt to counsel other peoples' kids. I cannot tell you how many times I have been blessed at 3:00 in the morning, after being up maybe 2 or 3 times already - when poor Heavenly Father hears me saying again, "Please just let us sleep for a couple of hours. I need to be here tomorow. I have to go to work." I have always felt really guilty even asking for this, because I deeply understand that my lack of sleep pales in comparison to the miracle of Deakon being here. Heavenly father must still love me though, because somehow I always get by.
Well, as of a couple of months ago, Deakon had finally become healthy enough to sleep through the night. I found myself waking up several times a night and turning up the monitor just so I could hear him breathe at first, but then when I realized he was okay, I rediscovered that this sleeping all night thing was pretty cool. But, in Deak's little life - months don't often go by without some sort of medical procedure, and last month was no different. Deakon was scheduled an MRI to use as evidence for our insurance company in order to help us get Growth Hormone Therapy for him. Deakon has learned a little too much in his short life about Hospitals and Nurses and Doctors, and recently (probably due to the age and an awful blood draw) he has decided he hates them. He had to be sedated for the MRI and it was a nightmare for him. He hit the nurses and kept yelling "Naaa, Naaa" or "No" in Deaky language. They actually had to sedate him early to prevent him from going into an asthma attack. Once sedated, the MRI went fine, and he recovered really easilly, thankfully. With one minor exception - he now refuses to sleep again. Deak will hit us and scream, and then laugh when we come get him out of his bed (even though Supernanny says not to, we do, we can't help it).
Moving on to the importance of the swing...because he is so small, even though he is almost two, he is still under the weight limit and can easilly fit into the seat. Deakon loves swinging and has not yet discovered it is a magical sleeping machine. But, we know - and are thankful for its' awesome powers. At midnight a couple of nights ago, after I had rocked him for an hour and a half, driven around town for 30 minutes, and fed him 2 bottles - I remembered that I still had the swing. I carried it up the stairs and into the family room. Within a few minutes, he was peaceful.
Now he will sleep again...he will even go into his bed after falling asleep in the swing. To quote Blair, "Abby, that swing is not a toy. We cannot waste its' batteries on your doll. We do not want the batteries to be dead, because when we need it - it is an emergency."
Let us all hope that it takes him some time to figure out what the swing really does.
