Learning Lessons in Grace

Potty Training.  It has to be the worst part of parenting - right?  Please tell me this is as bad as it gets? Everyone told us - don't try to potty train her before the baby is born - or right after - her world is going to be rocked enough.  Listen?  Of course I listened.  I didn't want to have her regress and deal with that.  Well… her teacher thought she was ready and Andy got all excited… so we bought some pull ups and away we went.  About 2 weeks after Nicholas was born, Bronwyn was wearing big girl underwear.  Well… let's just say it isn't going great, it could be worse… but eh… details.
One of the really fun parts of all this is the trips to the bathroom and the fights that ensue from that trip to the potty.  I'm not sure how many times I can plead to turn the water on or off, or put the seat up or down, or for the love of all that's holy can you just take the paper you need instead of the entire roll.
All of this to say, we made some awful stuffed peppers.  Awful.  Andy and I put them together - he wanted to try them out.  He had stuffed peppers when he was a kid and remembered them with warm and fuzzy thoughts - well… we smashed that memory right into the ground.  We found a crockpot recipe and I smelled it all day.  Mind you, I smelled this all day after yet another "fun" round in the potty that morning before Bronwyn when off to school.  When Andy told me he was going to be late, I knew that wasn't going to be good.  So… off to school I went to get our girl, that went well.  Came home and played outside since amazingly there was a swingset under all that snow!  Then dinner.  I dished hers out as I fed the baby, she took a few bites and then my favorite words "I don't want that" - when asked to eat it? "I don't want to."  Well…  let's just say she ate 5 bites and then was free after some rather loud discussion.  Then I finally had a chance to eat mine.  Mushy, no flavor, no texture, blah!  I forced myself to stomach it since she was watching.  At 8 when Andy came home - he excitedly dished himself a pepper, then promptly validated my plea to "please don't ever make me eat one of those ever again."
I'd love to say our night improved from there, but the puddle on the couch spoke otherwise.  I love my girl, and I'm happy she's excited about this new adventure into underwear (or panties as her friend Sylvie calls them), but those peppers?  Oh… that made a bad day worse.  Recipe?  On no, you can't get that out of me… not going tell you… yuck.
Update: It's been a few weeks since I wrote this and Bronwyn?  She's doing great.  Thankfully she's mostly figured it out.  Those peppers?  Still won't share the recipe with you... but willing to try something new... maybe.