Dear Baby Brother,
I'm not one to get all sentimental, but bear with me if you ever read this. My, how much you have grown! It feels like yesterday you were just a baby, and I was learning how to change your diapers. It's hard for me to believe that you've already finished your first week of middle school.
To be perfectly honest, when Mom and Dad told me that there was going to be a new addition to the Mayembe family, I was hoping for a girl. I mean, I already had a brother, so what the heck was I gonna do with two? But when you were born and I saw you in the hospital, I was smitten. When you and mom stayed in the hospital for all those days after your birth, I was restless and a little mad at you. I later learned that it wasn't your fault for why the two of you stayed there for so long; I was still adjusting to having another member of the family.
You always made me laugh. From your weird obsessions like wearing a suit around the house to dancing for everyone we knew (others I won't say to save you from embarrassment). You had and still have an endless amount of energy, and I hope you never lose that. When we found out that you had asthma, we were all so worried that you wouldn't be able to live an active life. You proved us wrong by racing your tricycle at super speed down the drive way and playing baseball and soccer. You also loved and still love to talk my ear off about everything. From toys to video games to cartoons, I know far more than I care to admit sometimes, but that's OK. I enjoy the passion and enthusiasm you put into whatever you love.
You have to be, hands down, one of the funniest kids I know. I'm not just saying that because you're my sibling; it's because it's true. You have this knack for telling people how it is or making a comment without cracking a smile. I don't know if you mean to be funny or if you're dead serious; I just know that I try my hardest not to laugh (though I usually fail). You have this quick wit that sometimes stuns me — a talent I didn't possess until later in middle school, but you seem to have had it since you were young. Not going to lie, it pisses me off.
I think the one thing that really impresses me is how smart you are. Everyone thinks that their sibling is smart to some extent, but you truly are. You've always excelled at school and now you're taking all accelerated classes. To be honest, I'm a little jealous (then I remember I'm in college so I'm OK). You're a wizard at LEGOs; ATMs, Captain America and catapults are some of my favorite things you've made thus far. You're not only book smart, you're just life smart, too. You have the ability to think critically all the time, an ability that some people my age and older can't grasp sometimes.
Well, enough with the praise for now. I know it's gotten a little tough for you and our brother now that I'll be going back to college. You both have lived with me your whole life, seen me at my best and my worst, always reminding me that you love me and that I need to do better. Middle school is going to be crazy. School will get tougher, and our parents will put pressure on you from here on out. You'll make new friends and have a fall out with some. The worst part is your body changing, but that's a discussion for another time. I just want you to know that, no matter how far away I am, you can always count on me. I know I may be tough on you sometimes, but it's because I'm your big sister and that's my job. I may not have had the best time in middle school, but that's not going to happen to you, OK? You won't be the new kid like I was.
I never know what to say when I conclude whatever it is I'm writing. I guess the whole point of this letter was to say I hate that you're getting older. I understand it's part of life, but it's a part of your life I won't see much. It also means that I'm getting older, too, which is good and bad, I guess. No matter how smart you get or how tall you are, you'll always be my baby brother who talked my ear off about everything.
Love,
Shannon
