Eleven

On the glass floor at the top of Willis Tower in Chicago

Today, Max Benjamin, you are turning eleven.

And you're kind of "meh" about the whole getting older thing. You realize that you're having a pretty amazing childhood, and that adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be. But you also can't wait to get your birthday present, so getting older will have to come.

This year you started your last year of elementary school. You were Prince Charming and a Guy in Tie, and will soon be a barkeep and a Lion King. You were a singing, two types of guitar, flute-playing wonder. We marched for our lives together. You had another epic summer at camp, and we all know Gurim was robbed at Zim. You finally made it to Mount Rushmore and the world's biggest ball of twine, driving 5800 miles with Dad. You got an iPhone and used it to text your grandparents.

You are all things YouTube and film-making (be sure to like and subscribe!), and “did you know” political facts and conspiracy theories and, as of this past week, a taxi-driving alter ego, Daniel Dingleschwaber. You have your own sense of style, lately favoring jeans and accessorizing with bracelets, and of course, your long hair. You want to know everything, and you want to share what you know even more. Your sister’s support means everything to you, and she’s still your best friend, followed closely by our new puppy, Shira.

So much lies ahead for you. Fifth grade graduation and starting middle school, a full seven weeks at camp, and so many more videos to be made. I'm so proud of you, and grateful that I get to be on this journey with you. Happy birthday - I love you, buddy.

(You can also see letters for ages three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine and ten.)