Eleven.

And let's not forget my daughter's 11th birthday, which was yesterday. Actually, I feel as though we have been celebrating since last Saturday when she had a birthday party sleepover with her closest friends. And then she will continue with yet another party with her dad's side of the family this coming weekend.

So does this mean I'm officially a mom of a tween? Girls are indeed dramatic, so I can already see where this is all going. I know I can't tell her what to wear, as indicated by the tearful protest in the backseat of the car on the way to our Thanksgiving festivities because she felt that I made her dress like her little sister. What? That cute leopard print skirt with military jacket wasn't cute? Yet, she was right. That is definitely something her little sister would wear and I felt bad that I ignored her pleas to wear what she really wanted to wear (leggings and top) because I wanted her to dress up for a change.

But I have to say my oldest child is as sharp as a tack. I rarely have to hover over her when it comes to schoolwork, except for the slight challenges she has had with accelerated math this year. She loves to read. She loves makeup (even though we don't let her wear it in public). She's feisty yet sweet. Actually, she's a lot like me in some respects, especially the feisty part.

As she slowly enters her teenage years, I hope it continues to be a smooth ride, most especially for her. I hope I've equipped her with enough self confidence and sweetness to make these coming years memorable for all of us - in a good way that is.

Happy Birthday, big girl. Your mommy loves you.