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Parenting Natasha wasn't always easy, especially in the beginning. She was timid and shy around them, craving touch and attention but confused about how to express it. Learning that she was allowed (they encouraged her) to come to them if she needed anything.
Once in the beginning, they were having waffles for lunch per Tasha's request. Pepper tied an oversized bib around Tasha's neck and she looked up at her, scandalized, and Pepper smiled in response.
Tasha grabbed her pink plastic cutlery and started cutting into the crunchy treat (not without difficulty) and after watching her struggle for five minutes Clint reached for the utensils and took them from her "Just use your fingers, baby."
Natasha looked horrified before cautiously lifting the poorly cut waffle to her lips, letting the jam and whipped cream spill onto her hands. She soon forgot about the loss of table manners and focused on getting the meal into her belly.
When she had cleared her plastic plate of all traces of jam, a hiccup escaped and they all shared a smile. It went unnoticed by Natasha who looked down at her hands in worry, eyes darting to all of them in question. Pepper saved the day and appeared with a napkin on hand and wiped Tasha's face and hands "There you go, all clean."
"You all done sweetcakes?" Steve asks and waits for her small nod before taking her plate.
Bruce grabs her sippy cup and starts walking to the kitchen with it, but stops abruptly when Natasha makes a displeased noise, grabs for it, eyebrows knitted together in dislike.
"What, Tasha?" He asks, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth at her frustration.
Natasha hadn't really begun talking around them yet, and hearing her express herself with words is rare. She scrunches her nose, whines and grabs for the pink and blue container.
"Use your words, Tasha." Clint instructs.
Natasha grumps and buries her face in her arms on the table, mumbles something inaudible.
"What was that?" Steve leans over and puts a hand on her head, inclines his head for better hearing.
"Want 'm sip."
He smiles and looks up, strokes his hand down her back. "She wants her sippy cup back." He clarifies to the rest.
"Well, why didn't she say so?" Bruce smiles and places the cup in front of her.
She grabs it and looks miserable at being made to speak, glares but doesn't whine.
They all help to wash up except for Tasha cause kids don't have to help clean up. By the time they're finished Natasha has dozed off on the tabletop, still clutching her sippy cup.