The "Mommy and Daddy" shelf.

First, the good.  My white board made it up onto the wall:

So pretty!  And yet still so blank.

In other good news, Jeff is totally on board with not only trying the Zone out but also researching the heck out of it.  He loves the mathematical aspect of it...you know, the part that makes most of us want to run out and just grab a pizza rather than having to divide anything by 9.  More on math, and how hard it is, later.

In not-so-optimal news, an entire container of the organic strawberries that I bought at Whole Foods last night (in preparation for "trying out" a few zone meals this weekend) suffered a brutal massacre this morning while Mommy was at the gym not-PR'ing her clean and Daddy was "watching the kids".  The carnage:

Nope, that's not wasteful at all.

 Thank God organic strawberries are only, like, $45 a pint.

The real victim in all this is me and my deviated septum and non-Botoxed forehead (I'm growing old with grace here, kids) and our truly horrendous selfie. Or perhaps it is you, for having to look at it.

Ok, but it's hard to get really mad when the perp looks like this:

She's almost 6 years old and weighs in at a whopping 35 pounds (but only when she hasn't taken a crap in about 2 days).  Her t-shirt says "Everyone Loves a German Girl"...in case you were wondering.

Anyway, I of course want my girls eating lots of beautiful organic fruit, especially that peanut right there because it's one of the only things she actually does eat.  But when I am planning on eating a specific thing for every meal and snack of the entire week, I don't need my strawberries highjacked by a blonde wood sprite who eats one bite of each one before tossing it for the next one.  That will leave me going off the rails faster than you can say "spoon in the peanut butter jar."

You might be tempted to say that I should just tell them not to do that.  Well, if you think that way then you've never met a child so please go away.  Taking care of young kids can best be described thusly:

So it looks like there is going to have to be a special "Mommy and Daddy ONLY" shelf (or shelves) in the fridge.  You know, sort of like the special "Mommy and Daddy ONLY" drawer in the bedroom...only, you know, more organic.  I hate to be this way, but its what's gonna work so I have to make it happen.

Right now, by the way, my fridge looks like this:

That empty ginger ale bottle and Coke can are really the secrets to my success.

I'd better get to work.