I’ve never considered 11 to be much of a birthday. Shoved between 10 (a whole decade!) and 12 (last year before you’re a teen!) it’s always been an inauspicious no man’s land for me. Of course, there’s no such thing as a small birthday in our house (I blame myself — okay, and my mom) and as it turns out, 11 has been a pretty big deal for Sophie.

This week is big in general — school dance, visits from out of town friends, and the last day of elementary school. I’m a mess and so is Sophie. She’s admitted on more than one occasion that she’s sad to be leaving her school. I feel like this week is slingshot-ing us both into summer, and we’ll free fall til it’s time for junior high to start.

Eleven is big because I see, more clearly than ever, how Sophie is teetering on the brink of adolescence. Her version, anyway. Among her birthday presents this morning were a phone, makeup, Barbies and a cute striped tank dress, but she also received a stuffed Peppa Pig, the star of a show meant for toddlers, and aside from the phone, I have a feeling that Peppa was her favorite gift. At 11, Sophie still sucks her thumb when no one’s looking — and even when they are.

She has been a diva this past week (too much birthday partying, I fear) but she is also wise and kind. Yesterday she dictated a thank you note to her aide at school, who stood in line at the Disney store with a lot of other “Frozen” fans to get her a stuffed Olaf and an Elsa dress, and at the end of the note Sophie added, “Thank you for taking good care of me.”

Last night at the school dance, they played the theme song to “Frozen,” and my friends and I giggled at the little girls belting out the angst-ridden anthem and wondered what these kids have to worry about, anyway. I watched Sophie approach several groups of girls, trying to engage them (with varied success) and thought to myself, she has plenty to angst about. I just hope she doesn’t realize it.

Today, Sophie wore the Elsa costume to school, over her new tank dress. She did not look anywhere close to 11. But she looked beautiful.

See also: For My 11-year-old Annabelle: Things to Worry About