Have you heard about how parents are creating business cards of sorts for their children? Apparently this is a thing now, at least among some up-and-coming parenting-types.
They use their child’s card as a way to exchange contact information with families they meet while playing at the park, for instance, or maybe as a way for their toddler to begin networking before the academic rush of Pre-K begins. Who’s to say? Even the young can learn to schmooze, right? Babies are naturals at this kind of “winning people over with a drooly smile” kind of interfacing.
While a calling card isn’t really a new idea, it’s a novel idea in today’s culture of electronic communication. And it’s original because it is intended to market a pint-sized member of the family. Perhaps the Royal Family of Britain is already on it. Maybe little Georgie has a design team currently plotting out his card.
I haven’t jumped on this trend, probably because I don’t do Pinterest (we would have ugly cards), and I’m really bad at schmoozing.
But I recently saw a calling card designed by a mother for her daughter with special needs and I fell immediately in love. I thought it was so great that I wanted to re-visit my defunct Pinterest account and pin it, for Pete’s sake.
This preteen girl’s card began with all the things she can do, like express “more” and “enough,” and communicate with the help of an electronic paddle near her head; the back outlined the specifics of her disability for teachers and therapists, neighbors and peers.
I think everyone on earth could benefit from a card like this one, telling the world, “Here is what I can do.” It’s a real mood-booster to see one’s strengths listed factually and indisputably. If the world then cared to know the rest of the story, the why’s and what’s about the way we are, they could flip the card over and read up.
My family’s card (aside from being aesthetically disappointing), might appear as follows:
We are a family with four boys. We can:
* Eat cheeseburgers, chicken nuggets, and fries in a booth at AstroBurger without making too much of a scene (and it only took years for us to accomplish, woot!)
* Ride in the family car, keeping our seat-belts buckled and our pants on (most of the time).
* Pound a 24-pack of mom’s Cherry Cokes like nobody’s business.
* Keep teachers, bus drivers, and sitters constantly on their toes, thinking outside the box, and upping their game, etc.
The back might read:
Among the six of us you’ll find autism, ADHD, anxiety, Macrocephaly Cutis Marmorata Telangiectasia Congenita Syndrome, social phobia, communication disorder, chronic diarrhea, allergies, tenacity (i.e. stubbornness), willfulness, the predisposition for destruction, and plenty of opinions. Pleasure to meet you.
My personal card might say something along the lines of:
* I read (but only what I want to read, and nothing more)
* I blog
* I clean up lots of poop
* I manage a family of unique little people, which leaves little time or energy for much else
And on the back:
* I suck at party-planning
* I loathe Braggy Braggertons
* I stress eat (esp. dark chocolate coconut almonds, right out of the freezer)
* I say no when people make demands on my time and energy, because my supply of both are limited and my mothering job is unusually demanding.
I just may need to get some of these ugly little suckers printed up. I’ll be handing them out at Back to School Night and at church.