Theodore

 Someday when my children sit down to read all that I have written here, my dearest, youngest son Theodore will say these words:

"Why is there nothing about me on here?"

And sadly he won't be wrong. I will give him the normal excuses, but that won't take away the fact that his keepsake bin is empty while I can't close his sisters. My excuses won't take away the fact that he has never had his own, specifically decorated just for him room. And my excuses certainly won't take away the hand-me downs that have been worn one too many times or the many toys that are missing pieces or have sat battery-less his whole life. When you are the forth, life is just...different.

But my hope for my fourth sweet little is that none of the above will matter. I hope the memories of his siblings fighting over who gets the first morning kiss from him outshines what is missing. I hope the battle over who loves Theodore more (it is totally me by the way) rings true in his ears. I hope he smiles when he remembers the "who can make Theo laugh the most" competitions. Above all, I hope he always knows and feels how loved he is. Our Theodore, our gift from God.

Besides his plethora of names (Theodore, Theo, Peo, P...) he is also called Angel Baby and Toy at our house. 

He is ornery, the most stubborn and headstrong yet. But in the best way. I have always called him Angel Baby, and the older he gets the more I can't think of any other way to describe him. With his stubbornness also comes a sweetness and easiness that makes him just irresistable. He wants to do has to do everything his siblings do which in the end causes tears and tantrums (the best, falling on the ground in slow motion and rolling around tantrums), but scoop him up, give his squishy cheek a kiss and maybe promise him a snack, and his world is right again. He pats us when he give hugs, gets in line for goodbye kisses in the morning and waves night-night to everyone when he decides it is bedtime. He sleeps like a rock (which I love him for), but my favorite thing right now is morning Theo. When I go in to wake Auggie and Bennett, Theo slowly stirs. It takes a few moments before he realizes that today is a new, glorious day, but when he does make this realization he pops up with a smile and reaches out to me. I grab him, hug him tight, but he doesn't want me. He wants to be put in Auggie's bed for their morning cuddle. It might last all of a second before he wants me back, but seeing them linked arm and arm makes my mom heart melt every time. He has made all of us sweeter, all of us more loving. 

Theodore is a toy. Who needs toys or tv when you have a baby brother Theo. He loves to be chased and "scared" and while he is horrible at this little game of hide and seek, the belly laughs it ensues from all of us are just simply the best. He mimics everything. A ball gets thrown or kicked (with two older sons and a sport loving husband you can imagine that this is constant), you better bet that Theo has to throw or kick something too. He is always, always watching, and we love to see what he thinks he can do. "Ball" is probably his most said word...next to "Auggie", and he is trying to say so much lately. Elmo, yellow, all gone, poop (yes, poop). He wants to make us laugh and his goofy side has come out more and more lately. I have videos of him rolling on the floor all alone just laughing at him self. He makes the silliest faces when we ask him to smile (Aug went through this phase, and I would be fine if it never left), he loves to wrestle with his Daddy, and he has to be right in the middle of all the action (our bathroom in the morning is not at all big enough). 

He is obsessed with ketchup, his paci, being outside, and suckers. He looks just like his Daddy and Emery, he thinks Auggie is the coolest big bro, he steals Bennett's toys, and he loves me lots. He is our Theodore, our gift from God. Our Angel Baby. Our Toy. And even though I don't write about it and he won't have the pictures as proof, I promise we love him more than words.