Dear Brigette

Dear Brigette,

Today you are 11, I am in awe of you and well kind of in awe of me for having made a human being who is now eleven years old.

You came into this world on a bright summers day. The evening before you were born I fell asleep holding my belly and told you that I was ready. Ready for you to make your arrival. You kicked and fluttered and made a rhythm that I fell asleep to. I was woken up by my water breaking and 1 epidural, 1 vacuum and 12 hours later, you were born. 38 weeks. 6lbs 2 1/4 ounces and ever inch, perfection.

I loved you instantly and constantly. You have grown so fast and so bright.

You are kind and caring and sensitive. You have matured to a young girl who is able to take care of 3 siblings without burning the house down. I love that you believe in fairies and magic and that your favourite pen pal is the tooth fairy. You have a love of sweets that shows no limits. You have long since realized that the Santa at the mall is clearly not the “real” deal but you know that your wishes and letters get to the big guy who fills your stocking. And about that elusive Easter bunny, well, one day I’m sure you’ll catch a glimpse of him, just keep your eyes peeled.

Every day you show more and more independence and I am both thrilled and terrified by it. You are creative in ways that inspire me. You take amazing photos, write fantastic stories and shoot hilarious videos. If Hogwarts was a real school, we would send you there tomorrow. I love that you can pick up accents and repeat them with shocking accuracy. I love that you try new things but only after you’ve carefully weighed out the risks and rewards. You have reluctantly but expertly learned how to ride a bike, ski, play piano, ride a horse, skate, swim, speak french and sew.

Most recently, you’ve decided that you want to learn to bake. You want guidance but what I hear most from you is, “can I just do it by myself?” You strive for perfection in all that you do, causing an error like mistaking 1/4 TSP for 1/4 CUP of salt to be catastrophic and soul crushing. However you were eager to move on and try again to make it just right.

I love that you laugh at your own jokes. I love how funny you are. I love your unruly hair. I love your emerging sense of individual style. I love to look at your collection of treasures you display in your room so I can see what you hold dear. Sketches of our beloved cat. Painted clay animals made in art class. Polaroid snap shots of you smiling with your friends. The stuffed bear you got for your first birthday. A scrap of material you’re saving to make a dress for your sisters doll.

I love you Brigette. You are my treasure. It would be cliche of me to say that I’m proud of you because at age 11 how can I not be, so I’ll just say that given all the things you’ve done so far in your short life, I am giddy with excitement to see what is yet to come.

You are amazing.

Happy Birthday!