Bring on the strawberries!

Since our girls were adopted through foster care, the information we received about their backgrounds and medical history is...spotty, to say the least.

Before our adoption was finalized, we received copies of the CPS files; if everything is piled in one stack, it's over a foot tall. Unfortunately, it's not because there's that much information. It's because they copied everything 3 or 9 times.

So. In all of this voluminous paperwork, there are at least 30 separate pages that indicate Tinkerbell is allergic to strawberries. And this is one of the first things that she ever told me, on the very first night I met her, "I'm 'lergic to strawberries." She didn't know what it meant exactly. "Strawberries might make me throw up."

For almost 3 years, my sweet Tink has been diligent, sometimes more diligent than me. We check every label; "Is it fake strawberry or real strawberry or no strawberry?" And all this time, it's made me crazy that there's no proof. Just words on paper.

So finally, last week, I asked the doctor if we could check it out. I thought they would do that scratching on the back with the grid thing or whatever, like I've seen on TV. But no. My sweet baby had to have blood drawn. For the third time in three years. But guess what?

She's not allergic to strawberries!

And guess what else? I forgot to tell her for two days. I know; I'm an awful mom. But I told her last night, and she begged Big Daddy to go to the store and buy strawberries. But I wouldn't let her eat them at night, because I didn't want her to go into anapha-whatever shock while I was asleep. Just in case the test was wrong.

But this morning, make no mistake. Miss Tinkerbell had Strawberry Banana Yogurt, and real strawberries on the side.

She's not crazy about the plain strawberries. Figures.