It seems utterly impossible that you are four years old! On the one hand it seems like just yesterday that I brought my little bundle of joy home from the hospital.
On the other hand, we are seeing glimpses of the teenage hell that awaits us in a few years ("Just don't talk to me!", "I'm going in my room and never coming out again for the rest of my life!", "You're ruining my life!") and I have to remind myself you are only four and I probably shouldn't call you something that rhymes with "hitch".
Seriously, (to use a pop culture phrase you have adopted as your own) I am amazed at how quickly you are growing up. Everyone warns you when you have a baby and the sleepless nights seem like they will never end that your baby will be grown-up before you know it and as I look back on your fourth year I know such prophecies are true.
The last few months it is like light bulb after light bulb keeps going off in that curly head of yours. Letters are a piece of cake, coloring inside the lines not a problem. To your Daddy's delight hopping on one foot and stepping into a throw are also part of your bag of tricks now, too. You are a very inquisitive child and few things go by you unnoticed - that is unless it's Mommy or Daddy intentionally trying to get your attention and then you are remarkably oblivious. Indeed there are times when a little less nosiness might have been preferred. Like the other day when we were at Kroger and a rather large lady rode by us on a motorized cart and you blurted out "Mommy, why is that lady riding around Kroger? She should walk like the rest of us. Walking is good for you!" Or the other day when we were outside and our rather odd neighbor did walk by and you blurted out (again in your not so quiet voice) "Why does our neighbor walk around town all the time? Doesn't she like her house?"
Our annual trek to Kiawah was full of entertaining questions like "Why is there sand on the beach?", "Why do mosquitoes bite?", "Who made the beach?", etc. The last question reminds me of one of your favorite Campbellisms right now - "all the way to God and back" is your substitution for anything that should have "very, very, very" in front of it. "Mommy, I love you all the way to God and back." "Daddy, I'm going to be good all the way to God and back." "Dotdot I can jump all the way to God high."
While on vacation this year we took advantage of your curiosity to plan some fun activities. We took several gator hunting bike rides and rode out to the nature preserve (where you tinkled in the great outdoors for the first time and thought it was hilarious), and we did a treasure hunt in downtown Charleston where you led the way ("I am the leader! Everyone behind me! Daddy! You're not behind me!").
Just before leaving for Kiawah this year, Dotdot and Mommy started plotting for a little bit different family vacation next year - the pilgrimage no American family (especially with a little girl as princess-crazed as you are) can or should do without - Disney World here we come. I am very excited (though as of yet you don't know we are officially going - that will be this year's big Christmas surprise from Mommy and Daddy)! But, as we prepare to spend a small fortune on this trip - very likely at the cost of Kiawah and any other travel next year - I have embarked on the daunting task of teaching you not to throw fits.
All in all you aren't too bad - especially when you get enough sleep. But, having inherited your father's stubbornness and your mother's fiery temper you certainly can throw a fit - and once one starts you cling to your irrationality like a mule. With nightmare images of you deciding to have such a fit in the middle of Cinderella's castle, and after multiple talks where as soon as the fit is over you, of your own accord, acknowledge you shouldn't have acted like that, I decided to try to help you identify your behavior while we are in the dangerous whiny stage and before we reach toddler Chernobyl.
So, about two months ago we instituted the "Mickey policy" whereby at bedtime every night you are awarded a Mickey or an X. You have to string together seven or more Mickey's to be allowed to talk about what you want to do if we go to Disney. If you get an X you have to start all over. At first the system worked like a charm. You even made it the entire month of May without a single X. The last couple of weeks, however, we've hit a snag and the month of June is riddled with X's. I knew I was reveling in my superior Momminess too soon! Now I am back to questioning if I was cut out for this. Not that I have a choice or would trade having you for anything in the world. But on days when you are cranky and end up with an X it tries every ounce of patience I have and leaves me questioning what in the world I'm doing and praying with every fiber of my being that I won't screw you up.
I see so much potential in you - you are wicked smart, ridiculously funny and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful - and I don't say those things just because I'm your Mommy. Strangers stop me on the street and affirm these truths all the time. So, by the time you are reading these old, sappy posts of mine, I hope that you look back on the February of your fifth year and the trip we made to Disney with fond memories of princesses and fun rides and are warmed by memories of love and happiness. I also hope that your calendar at your house is covered in Mickey's and there aren't any X's insight because I know that this is but a small test on my parenting adventure so if I can't even teach you not to pitch a fit then I probably need to apologize to you for all the ways I failed you! But, since you are a naturally happy person and since we are coming up on the magic seventh Mickey mark again . . . I'm cautiously optimistic that I can at least instill this lesson successfully!
Now, as I realize that this post has gotten all together too long, I will close with a few fun pics from your fourth birthday party. We had a kids obstacle course (slip-n-slide, sprinkler, zip line, etc.) and a Rapunzel cake. From all accounts it was a huge success since all the kids (and possibly a few adults) ended up soaking wet. Your amazing grandparents hosted the party this year after hosting last year's nearly landed me an extended stay in a padded room. (So, after you look at the pics, my dear sweet daughter, pick up the phone and call Dotdot and Peepaw and tell them you love them and thank you for the best fourth birthday party ever. It will make their day!)
Happy Birthday, Campbell! You are the hardest thing in my life. Raising you scares the hell out of me and leaves me feeling like I don't have a clue on a daily basis. But, having you was the best the thing that ever happened to me. I love you more than words can ever express - you are the light of my life, my everything!

All of my love -
Mommy