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[raisingstarks]

Nobody asked, but I’m sharing anyway: the title of my blog is in a font called “Brutal” which, I think, accurately sums up a fair bit of my life. Peter and I thought it was funny. Pepper not so much.

[raisingstarks]

Peter told me that I’m supposed to introduce myself, which does feel mildly absurd, considering that you really ought to know who I am. And, well, if you don’t know who I am, Google exists. But, as the kid points out, can Google tell you that York Peppermint Patties are my second favorite candy? No, it cannot.

Pepper thinks that this whole blog is ridiculous. When she told me to make it, I don’t think she actually expected me to do it. Peter is torn between being wildly amused and terrified of how many doors of future embarrassment this opens for him. Morgan thinks that it’s all very, very exciting. Then again, most things seem very, very exciting at her age. Oh, the joys of being four.

Pepper is the alpha of the household. No doubt, no competition. If either of us wear the pants in our relationship, it’s her. You will never see a sixteen-year-old boy yield to authority as quickly as Peter does to Pepper when she really means business. She’s also the only one who can actually get Morgan to bed before 8:00. How she does it, I know not, although I suspect that dark magic is involved.

Besides being the mother of the year, she’s also a goddamn powerhouse. She’s always been one, ever since the first time I saw her, and not a day goes by that I don’t stop being in awe of her. Sometimes, I wonder if there’s anything that she can’t do. She runs my company seamlessly, all while nurturing Morgan, supporting Peter as if he were her own, and being my mental and, after Thanos, sometimes even my physical, backbone. PTSD sort of comes with the territory of being a superhero. It’s an unfortunate package deal. And yet, Pepper handles the effects it has on me, and even Peter, with a grace that I just don’t understand. She cooks better than me, too, but listen. I’m working on it. I can now reliably make mac n cheese and asparagus. And other things.

Peter is sixteen, although he’ll turn seventeen in August, which is a fact he reminds us of constantly. Less than two years shy of adulthood. Right now, he’s fascinated by biochemistry, but I’m hoping to sway him towards electrical engineering before he gets around to college applications. He still says that his favorite color is Iron Man Red, which I both tease him about and secretly adore. He’s afraid of thunderstorms, and so is Morgan, but while they’ve frightened Morgan for her whole life, I can still remember a time when Peter loved them. Now, he jolts awake at the first crack of thunder, though it always takes Peter double the time that Morgan does to show up in my room during storms. Sometimes, I think he’s stuck between the adulthood he’s determined to earn and the childhood that he’s still in. I know he wants to be protected just as much as his sister does, but he doesn’t want to ask for it.

To clarify, because I seem to get this question non-stop, I didn’t play any role in the composition of Peter’s DNA. He’s not my biological child, but at this point, he might as well be. I can’t take all of the credit, though. His aunt did all of the heavy lifting. I appreciate that now even more than I did before I had Morgan.

I think it’s every parent’s curse to think that their child is special, but with Peter, I feel pretty confident in that assessment. After all, most teenagers have after school activities like debate team, or sports, or tutoring. My kid, though, likes to dress up like a glorified spider and swing through New York until 3:00 am. That isn’t exactly the most standard extracurricular activity. Although he is on his high school’s Academic Decathlon team, so I guess that counts for something. A slice of normal inside every part of his life that definitely isn’t.

Random, non-Googlable facts about Peter include: he thinks that Banquet frozen meals are the height of luxury, I’ve yet to find a movie that he can’t sleep straight through, and while he’s brilliant at math, if I don’t proofread his essays then there isn’t a single chance of the end result being comprehensible. He can quote every single line from every single Star Wars movie, including the Clone Wars. He talks in his sleep.

Morgan is four. In my opinion, it’s the best of her years yet, although I guess my sample size is pretty small, considering that I only have three others to compare it too, and that a majority of that time was spent with 50% of the universe gone. But, anyway: best year so far. No diapers, totally potty trained, lots of sass but not too much sass (although that can still be pretty debatable at times). She’s old enough to start taking her first wobbly steps towards independence, but still small enough to hold. And she’s still young enough to be absolutely fascinated by, like, the veins in a leaf. I think that’s one of the things I love most about Morgan: her endless curiosity. She’s enthralled by the simplest things, and I dread the day that she stops asking me questions about anything and everything.

“Daddy, what’s the biggest word? What does it mean? How do you spell it? When is something big instead of small? How big is big? What sound does a giraffe make?” 

I swear, my kid is a genius. Watching her grow up is simultaneously the most exciting and most terrifying experience of my life. In so many ways, I can’t wait to see where her brain takes her, but I also know that not everywhere she goes will be kind. I think, sometimes, of the places that my brain has taken me, and how few of them have been truly good. I never want to see that to happen to her. I just want her to be happy.

Random, non-Googlable facts about Morgan include: she hates vanilla ice cream because it’s “boring,” she wants to have as many different careers as Barbie, and I think she might be headed into a horse girl phase after watching the movie Spirit. One time, she actually tried to ride our alpaca, Gerald, which... I mean, no one was hurt, and when you’ve got kids like mine, that’s considered a win. Her favorite food is mac n cheese and asparagus (on the side, not in the mac), and she knows every single word of the Frozen soundtrack. Which means that I do too, since I’ve had to hear it so much.

This got much longer than I expected. But, really, you can’t be surprised. If there’s one thing that everyone should know about me, it’s that I love to talk. And of the things I love the talk about, my family sits pretty firmly at the top. And Peter’s had no problem telling me that my blog title is corny, but I’m not wrong. Parenting really is an adventure when you have kids like mine.

[raisingstarks]

Pepper has informed me that all the moms these days have blogs about parenting, but she’s too busy running a company. So the job has fallen to me since I am, after all, the true mom of the family.