Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh.
How in the name of curly hair are YOU going to be 11 freaking years old Friday?
When the crap did that happen?
It was like a minute ago that I was peering over the couch at your infant body beaming and shouting every time you would blink.
I remember wondering what your voice would sound like. I never wondered that about our brothers because I was too young to understand that new life is amazing in every way ever. (Plus they were icky boys). But with you? I got it.
Your life is amazing.
I like to say that you’re this little version of me walking around out there, but really, you’re cooler, better and tanner.
You’re funny, you’re smart and you have an incredible heart. You have a confidence at 11 that I still struggle to find at 26. You know how to find a peaceful place among all the craziness that is our totally blended family, which includes random brothers, dads and nieces/aunts. And you know that brown, never, under any circumstances, goes with black.
Also, you get me.
That’s what I love most about having a sister. You can talk to me with your eyes. Whether it’s a conversation about how mom is nuts, or about which paper shredder to buy, no words are needed. We both get it. Mom is nuts (Sorry mom). Get the cheaper shredder.
It’s a phenomenon that I wouldn’t have ever understood before I met you. And I’m old enough to know it’s special and (hopefully) to remember to never take it for granted.
I love that you’re becoming an adult. Sometimes, you even trick me into thinking you already are one. (Is that make-up young lady?)
I can’t wait to go out on the town with you, and commiserate about our umm, “time of the months,” and how lame boys are. I can’t wait to call you up late at night, when I’m crying and freaking out and have you say exactly what I need to hear. And I can’t wait to have the privilege of having you think to call me when you’re the one crying and freaking out.
My wish for you is that you’ll use every ounce of intelligence you’ve been blessed with. That you’ll never let a boy get anything he doesn’t deserve (especially your tears). That you’ll become whatever makes you happiest. That you’ll keep your pure faith in God and Jesus and all that is good. That you’ll never forget that even though bad crap happens, it also always teaches you something. And, that you’ll get to take hot showers whenever you want and sleep in more days than not.
Love your biggest fan,