The Legality and Emotional Investment of Holiday Cards

As I was waiting in line for zone 4 to board (I'm so spoiled when I travel with priority-seating Appa), I struck up a conversation with another off-duty mama heading home to her three kids. It was pretty superficial, but when she asked how many kids I had, my deliberate response was "Two. An almost-3-year-old and a 1 year old."

Usually I qualify this statement to avoid the confusion that results when I am found to only be parenting one child, but this time, with this stranger, I just tested it out on my tongue, the idea of being a two-boy mama. I let her believe that I was heading home to a rambunctious pair of brothers.

It was fun.

Granted, there was a bit truth stretching involved. Oh yes, I totally get the way brothers fight and make up. Oh yes, there isn't anything better than two little boys snuggling on their mama. Mmm humm, mmm humm, mmm humm. However, I consider Little Bro my son, and see little harm in role playing my upcoming reality.

Yet, when I started designing our holiday cards last night, I was stumped as to whether or not to include Little Bro in the signature. He isn't really a member of our family yet, not fully. Something could happen. I'm not really his mama and Appa isn't really his father and Little Bro is decidedly not wishing our 80 friends and family warmest holiday wishes for this holiday season and the new year.

It's okay to role play with a stranger in an out-of-state airport, but it's different when it comes to serious business like holiday cards.

I take my holiday cards VERY seriously.

I asked Appa to weigh in on the subject, and he immediately responded that Little Bro should be in the signature. When pressed why, his response was "why not?"

Appa does not take my our holiday cards VERY seriously.

This period post referral/pre travel is such an ambiguous period. You fall in love with a picture, the idea of a child, but can't truly love the child as your own until you meet him or her. Because legally, the child isn't yours. And beyond that, you don't know what to love about that child. I love the idea and future possibility of Little Bro. I love the way his mouth quirks up and his mad drumming skills. But what else is there that I can love about a child who I only have pictures and some basic eating and bowel movement information on?

Do I love him....YES, not in the same way I love Little Bug.

Not yet, but I have no doubt I will.

To people involved in the adoption process, these conflicting feelings make sense. You can love and claim that child as your own without actually having met him. You can declare your position as his mama even though that position currently belongs legally and physically to two other women. It's all good. It's how we roll in the adoption world. It's our version of bonding with a huge swollen tummy.

To the 60 other people on our holiday list, that might not make as much sense. It might seem more final that it actually is. It might seem more delusional than it actually is.

And yes, I am over thinking this, but holiday cards are basically legal documents to me, so they bring up strong emotions.

Anyway, bottom line is that Little Bro is going on the signature line. Not because we are pretending that he's home and not because he gives two hoots about anyone's holiday season, but because in Appa, Mama, and Little Bug's hearts, right now his name belongs there with ours.