I'm sorry, but Daddy and Sylvia have officially given you your nickname. It was brought up only a few days after you were born, when a book titled Margot L'Escargot arrived in the mail from Papi. It's a darling little book about a sweet snail named Margot, but I had some major concerns. Okay, one major concern: I didn't want anyone calling you a snail. I know! It doesn't make sense! I don't know why I'm okay with calling Sylvia a nugget, but I refuse to call you a snail. Nicknames are funny that way. Maybe I was just upset because I didn't come up with it myself. Either way, I put my foot down and scolded Daddy and Sylvia whenever they called you Margot L'Escargot. I did the same thing when Daddy tried to call you Margot Blargot. That one will NOT FLY! But here's the thing about the snail name...
You're kind of, a little bit, totally like a snail.
You can do some amazing things, Miss Margot. You can clap, you can sing, you can wave bye-bye, you can feed yourself, you can shake a maraca like it's your job...but it took you ten and a half months to learn how to crawl! I know that's not a big deal, plenty of kids don't crawl at ten months, but you were showing no signs of wanting to move anywhere - at all - ever. That's when Daddy pulled out the nickname and it stuck. Because it fit. And for some reason, at that particular point in time, I thought it was cute. So there you go.
You must have an IQ of four million, because it seemed like as soon as you heard that nickname you were all, "Excuse me?! Are you calling me a SNAIL? THAT'S IT! I've had enough! I'm outta here!" And you crawled away. Just UP AND CRAWLED like you've been doing it your whole life! The "rocking back and forth" phase lasted, like, one day, and then you were OFF! I couldn't believe it. So now you're stuck with this adorable nickname and it's even funnier because you are FAST! You're welcome.
I'm very proud of you for giving us the baby equivalent of the finger. Don't let anyone tell you who are or what you can do. And when someone says you can't do something, you just go right ahead and SHOW them that you can. I think that'll be your gig. Judging by your tenacity and your gigantic, powerful set of lungs, I don't think anyone will ever assume you can't do anything. You're a go-getter, Miss Margot. And I love it!
Just remember, no matter how far that go-getter, up-yours, I-can-do-this attitude takes you, there will always be a warm pair of arms here to hold you when you need it.
You can be as tough as nails out in the real world, but your Daddy knows the truth. You're his Margot L'Escargot and you can slow down with us whenever you want.
Love you Forever and Ever,
Mama
P.S. So sorry I haven't kept up with monthly letters. This two-kid gig is tougher than I thought.
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