ADHD Parenting Blog

Archives: March 2009

Quick Organizing Tip

When you’re parenting a child with ADHD who has “Mess” as a middle name, it’s the little things that count.

I came across an organizing tip that is absolutely thrilling. Life changing! I’ll share it with you. But first, you have to promise not to laugh.

With a child with ADHD creating chaos in a house, stashing, stowing, and sorting stuff becomes a full-time job. That’s why I was so happy to find just one little, itty-bitty but oh-so-satisfying no-cost tip that really works.

It’s for corralling plastic grocery bags. Don’t just shove them in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. Stuff them in an empty facial tissue box. When the box is full, you have enough. Do not--repeat: do not--keep any more. Throw the rest away.

Okay, I couldn’t quite follow those directions to the letter. I had to take it to the next level.

I have an empty tissue box stuffed with plastic grocery bags in each bathroom, where I reuse them as trash bags. If all the tissue boxes are full, any additional plastic bags go immediately into the trunk of my car for drop-off at the public library, where they are reused by library customers.

I know, I know, an even better solution to my plastic grocery bag storage problem would be to eliminate accumulating them in the first place, by packing groceries in cloth or canvas bags. That’s an organizing challenge I’ve yet to master. I have several reusable bags, but actually getting them into the car, and then remembering to take them into the grocery store with me is a skill that, so far, eludes me. I’ll get there, I promise.

Until I do, I’m just happy--unreasonably, disproportionately happy--to have this one tiny challenge figured out. After all, when you’re parenting a child with ADHD who has “Mess” as a middle name, it’s the little things that count.

I think the credit for this tip goes to Real Simple magazine, but I didn’t organize myself well enough to keep track of my source. One step forward, two steps back. Oh, well. My bags are stored away neatly, and I’m happy.

Not Exactly Mom of the Year

During a visit from our case manager, we had an embarrassing moment.

I thought I’d die of embarrassment the time Natalie announced to our pediatrician that she’d eaten ice cream for breakfast (and was telling the truth!). I won the “Miss Ugly” contest at Camp Fire Girls camp one year; I might as well win the “Worst Mom” award to go with it.

As if the ice cream for breakfast revelation wasn’t bad enough, Nat managed to raise the bar on the make-your-mom-look-awful competition Tuesday afternoon, during a visit from our case manager.

Our family receives services through a Children’s Mental Health waiver. We qualify for this assistance due to the challenges Nat’s ADHD presents. Tammy is the case manager who overseas the services.

Tammy and I sat at the kitchen table and talked about Natalie’s progress toward her goals. As we talked, Natalie and her friend Bekah divided their time between the kitchen and the front yard via the garage. They set up what looked like a make-believe store (but may have been a school), creating a huge mess in the garage as they did so. Nat emptied all the shoes and boots off some shelves in the garage so that she could move the shelves to the driveway. She took her art easel apart, used some parts in her creation, and piled the remaining pieces on the rear end of my car. She emptied everything from the kid-sized workbench that Don made for her onto the garage floor, and pushed the bench to the driveway. She pulled a couple of lawn chairs over, and she and Bekah were in business.

“Do not take one more thing out of the garage,” I admonished, before sitting down with Tammy to talk. “Play with what you already have out.”

The girls ran inside to make name tags to go with whatever it was they were playing.

“How do you spell Captain?” Bekah asked. She made Nat a name tag that said “Captain Natalie." She made herself one that said “Mate Bekah.” Not store, not school--so, ship, maybe?

They returned to the garage for a few minutes, and then reappeared in the kitchen. Tammy and I looked over as they walked in.

Nat stood next to Tammy proudly holding a completely empty bottle of Captain Morgan Spiced Rum.

“What do you have, Nat?” I asked. Then, “Oh, my God!”

Upon finding her eight-year-old client holding an empty booze bottle, Tammy sort of shrieked, and then laughed.

“Nat, how many times have we told you to leave the empty cans and bottles alone?” I said.

“But it’s a Captain!” Captain Natalie said, displaying the label.

It sure is, Natalie. That it is. And I wouldn’t mind sharing a good stiff drink with The Captain himself right about now.

What’s the most embarrassing thing your child with ADHD has said or done in front of a doctor, social worker, or teacher?

Sensitive About Haircare

I found a coping technique that reduces this daily struggle.

Natalie hates brushing her hair. Lots of kids do, right? But most kids don’t have Sensory Processing Disorder, making them extra-sensitive to the feeling of the brush’s bristles and the tugs. And not all kids have ADHD, making holding still long enough to do the dirty deed into a challenge in itself. Even fewer kids rock back and forth to fall asleep, creating super-sized knots. No wonder my poor girl cringes and screams!

We keep Nat’s hair short to lessen the torture. We use lots of conditioner when we wash, and spray with anti-tangle spray before brushing (creating an additional sensory challenge). Sometimes Nat will do the brushing herself, ripping through the tangles in take-no-prisoners fashion, then slams the brush down and declares herself “DONE,” whether I agree with her assessment or not.

A couple days ago I spritzed a few times, then wielded the brush. Nat held still, didn’t pull away, didn’t make a sound.

“That was easy!” I said, as I finished.

Nat looked up, surprised. “You’re done?”

As I brushed, Nat was focused on popping the bubbles in a sheet of bubble wrap.

“Can I do this again tomorrow?”

Now, when it’s time for this daily chore, Nat asks for the bubble wrap.

This may be one of those coping tips that works for a few weeks and then loses its appeal, but I plan to milk it for as long as it reduces this daily struggle for my sweet, sensitive girl.

Does your child with ADHD or Sensory Processing Disorder hate haircare? How do you help?

ADHD Therapy Success

Natalie reached a major milestone last week. She was discharged from occupational therapy!

Natalie and I arrived at ChildServe for our weekly appointment with Nat’s occupational therapist, Summer Barber.

“It’s time for a quarterly review,” Summer said. Nat played on the bolster swing while Summer and I talked.

Nat’s handwriting has improved dramatically. Her core strength, motor planning, and coordination have too. We’ve worked on Nat’s Sensory Processing Disorder. We talked about how well Natalie did in social skills group.

“She learns very well. She just needs some repetition,” Summer said.

Summer remembered quite clearly what had brought us to her in the first place.

Nat came home from kindergarten one day, in tears. “Why am I the only one who drools? Why am I the only one who puts things in my mouth? Why am I the only one who rocks? Why am I the only one who scribbles?” Nat’s perfectly articulated frustration with what she recognized as differences sent me scurrying to find help.

“Natalie's school says that speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy can’t help,” I told Nat’s pediatrician, Dr. Halbur. Nat had worked with all three through the Area Education Agency while in preschool.

“Oh yes they can,” Dr. Halbur said, and she sent us to Summer.

Three years later, I can say, with confidence, and unending appreciation, Summer most certainly did help--and not just Natalie. She’s been a vital source of information and support for me these past three years, too. She’s caring, knowledgeable, and a true professional.

Thanks for everything, Summer. We’ll miss you!

Obama's Special Mistake

As a mom of a special-needs child, I'm willing to forgive--this time.

I stayed up late last Thursday night to watch President Obama’s appearance on Jay Leno's show. I’m a big Obama fan. I desperately want him to have a kick-butt presidency, for his sake, for the U.S.’s sake, for the world’s sake. So, I gladly gave up an hour or two of sleep to watch him cast about his charm via Leno.

“He’s so intelligent,” I commented to my husband, Don, as the back-and-forth banter started.

“He doesn’t sound like a politician at all,” Don responded.

Then, it happened: Obama’s Special Mistake. Did you hear it, or hear about it? Obama compared his bowling prowess to that of a Special Olympian.

Don was right; that certainly didn’t sound like a politician. “He’s in trouble,” I said, disappointed.

After the gaffe, I read that the White House issued an apology before the show even aired; that Obama phoned the Special Olympics chairman from Air Force One to apologize personally; and that Sarah Palin was thrilled that President Obama threw her a crumb to use to her own political advantage.

As the mother of a child who receives special education services, I’d like to tell the President that I’m sad he made a joke at my child’s expense, but that this time, I’m willing to forgive him. I’m confident he’ll spend the next eight years making up for his mistake by devoting a little time and attention to special education initiatives and mental health care reform!

Yes, I’m sad, and not just because my superhero took a step off his pedestal. Nor because he showed such poor taste by choosing Leno over Letterman. No, I’m sad mainly because Nat, in true special-Natalie style, chose the one night I stayed up past 10 p.m. to awaken, fully refreshed, at 1 a.m.

Oh well, with Sarah Palin out there attempting to make her move, who can sleep anyway?

ADDitude Adjustment

Who was that woman who was so stressed out just a few weeks ago?

Last time I wrote about Natalie finally reaching the point, at age 8, where she can play outside for short periods of time without direct supervision, while other neighborhood kids are achieving that level of trustworthiness at age 5. For Natalie, two factors are clearly at play. One: kids with ADHD mature later. Two: the meds to treat Natalie’s ADHD must be doing all they possibly can to minimize impulsive behaviors.

As you know, we’ve been working on med changes since November. Several times along the way, I’ve commented that such-and-such seemed to be working, and then something would go wrong: a report from school, a disturbing side-effect, trouble sleeping.

Now, once again, and hopefully for the long-term, we seem to be in a very good place. Natalie is taking 40 mg of Ritalin LA, in the morning and at 2:00 p.m., and 0.1 mg of Clonidine at 8:00 pm. Things seem pretty darn good.

We had to get documentation from our pediatrician in order for insurance to approve the second dose of Ritalin LA. Nat metabolizes meds quickly, and we’re lucky to get six hours of coverage from a dose of LA. The second dose gets us through until close to bedtime. We have permission to add a booster of short acting Ritalin to get through the evening, but haven’t felt the need so far.

The Clonidine is definitely helping with sleep, but hasn’t solved Nat’s sleep problems completely. She woke up at 4:30 a.m. a couple mornings ago and could not get back to sleep. We have permission to increase the dose by half a tablet, but plan to wait and see how often she has problems before making that change.

I believe that the Clonidine is helping with more than sleep. Nat seems unusually calm (but not at all sedated) and well behaved most of the day. She seems almost, well, normal!

I googled to see if Clonidine effects anxiety or ADHD behaviors, and all I found is that it’s used to help with sleep in kids with ADHD. Nothing about what I think I’m seeing. I can’t wait to ask our pediatrician about it.

Natalie was off from school last week for spring break. I’m hoping that following her first full week back at school, I’ll hear from her teachers that they’re as happy with how her meds are working as I am.

Spring began on Friday. And Friday was also my last day of work. Nat’s meds are working near-miracles. Suddenly, life is good!

An Outlet for ADHD Energy

I’ll take summer--and the ADHD-friendly active play that it offers--over winter anytime.

Here in central Iowa, we’re having a reprieve from winter weather, with temperatures in the mid 60’s to low 70’s. Being able to send Natalie outside to run, bike, and swing away her ADHD energy is a dream come true. It’s been a l-o-n-g winter.

I’m feeling my way as to how much freedom Natalie, at age 8 1/2, will be able to handle this spring and summer. Can I fill the dishwasher while she plays in the yard, or do I need to be outside with her? Will she dart across the street without looking both ways when she sees Lindzey come out her front door? Will she get into Don’s tools in the garage?

So far, most signs point to an awesome, low-stress summer.

We’ve re-established some standing rules already. A couple of time-outs for crossing the street impulsively seem to have done the trick, at least for routine crossings. We’ll see what happens when something really exciting is happening on the other side!

Ty and Kate, two five-year-olds in our neighborhood, are experiencing a new of freedom, for the first time, this spring. Five seems to be the age where kids make that transition from having a parent supervising them directly when they are outside, to having a parent nearby, and simply checking in at regular intervals. Judging from our neighborhood standard, Nat’s only three to four years behind!

After playing outside with minimal supervision all day on Saturday, Nat and Kate ended the day badly. We grilled hamburgers and hot dogs for supper, and Kate stayed to eat with us. I cleaned up while Nat and Kate played outside. Nat ran inside to ask, “Has it been two hours?”

“Two hours since when?” I asked.

“The lady said the dogs would sleep for two hours, then we could play with them again.” I had no idea who she was talking about. Uh oh. What had I missed?

“Can we go see the dogs?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“NO!”

A minute later I looked outside, and the girls are gone. I found them four houses down. They rang the doorbell of a neighbor we don’t know, and asked if her dogs could come out and play.

Oh, how quickly they can find danger! Ringing a stranger’s doorbell, for goodness sake. I could have died.

I marched Kate home, and reported the incident to her dad, then made Nat come inside for the night.

So summer won’t be completely stress free. But I’ll take summer--and the ADHD-friendly active play that it offers--over winter anytime.

A View of ADHD from the Driver's Seat

My car is a microcosm of my life as the mom of a kid with ADHD.

Empty cups and fast-food wrappers cover the floor. Legos, markers, mittens, and school papers add to the chaos. Every time Natalie gets in the car, she grabs all the toys she can carry and takes them with her, and there they stay. If she’s carrying her backpack, whether to school, or home from daycare, she can’t leave it zipped. She has to empty it out. There might be something interesting in it! The mess grows.

Crumbs, chocolate smears, and a blue stain from a melted crayon disgrace the upholstery. The windows and rear-view mirror are fingerprinted and cloudy. There’s a gaping hold where the cup holder used to be. Natalie kicked it and broke it off.

Plug your nose: There’s a moldy apple core and a sippy cup of soured milk under the seat, along with the remains of Nat’s school lunch from two weeks ago.

The trunk holds a laundry basket full of detritus that used to be in the car and that now awaits sorting, a garbage bag full of Natalie’s too-small clothes for drop-off at Goodwill, and plastic grocery bags for reuse by the public library. I’ll take care of them...later.

I’m six months past due for an oil change, and have limped along by adding a quart of oil--3 times. Who know how much damage was done before my last oil change, when I ran it completely dry before dragging in to the dealership?

I’m nearly out of gas. And what’s with that rust spot? How old is this car, anyway?

My car needs gas, an oil change, a wash, carpet and upholstery cleaning, and windows washed. I need a good night’s sleep (Nat woke up at 4:30), to have my hair cut and colored, healthy food, and some exercise. I need a chance to organize my household; time to organize my thoughts.

With a little TLC, and a little luck, we’ll both be good for a few more miles.

Special-Needs Novel Hits Close to Home

The novel I'm reading is a compelling and painful must-read for parents of kids with special needs.

Whoa. The book I chose to bring with me on vacation, Jodi Picoult’s new novel, Handle with Care, is not a light read. But it sure as heck isn’t a book I could close easily in favor of a quick nap on a lounge chair by the pool.

Handle with Care is the story of Charlotte, a mother of two girls, the younger of whom was born with a rare bone disease. Charlotte sues her ob-gyn best friend, Piper, for malpractice, alleging that Piper should have diagnosed the fetus’ problem earlier in-utero. If she’d done so, Charlotte charges, she would have (may have?) chosen abortion.

This is not a book about abortion. Pro-choicers won’t love it, while pro-lifers picket bookstores, nor vice-versa. It doesn’t further either camp’s cause. What it does is ask questions: one unanswerable question after another, each more thought- and feeling-provoking than the one before. It’s a book about life, and about death. It’s about parenthood, friendship, and marriage. It’s about adoption. It’s about the politics, realities, and misconceptions of differing abilities.

OK, ‘nough said. This isn’t a book review site, it’s a blog about parenting a kid with ADHD. So let me bring it back to that.

I read this book for entertainment, while taking a vacation away from my child with ADHD and other special needs, and the whole time I read it, I thought about both of my kids, my life, my choices.

And as I read, I kept flashing back to this: When I drive to Stomping Grounds for coffee, a couple of mornings each week, I pass a Planned Parenthood office. For the last couple of weeks, there have been protesters outside. Each time I see them, I’m instantly angry, and this is the thought that pops into my mind: How many kids with special needs have you adopted? How many kids that someone else couldn’t, for whatever reason, care for, are you feeding and housing and loving? Put your money where you mouth is, I want to scream.

Whoa. What’s that about? I guess my reaction to them--and to this book--is as complicated as the book itself. I’ll leave it at that. Read this book, parents of kids with special needs, and then tell me how you react.

The ADHD Factor

Could my vacation be ADHD-kid compatible--and relaxing?

This getaway vacation for two to Florida started out, in the dream stage, as a family vacation.

“Our younger child has special needs,” I’d e-mailed the travel agent. “In order for her to travel with us, we need a direct flight--no connections. And the shortest ride possible from the airport to the resort. We need a beach, a pool, and food on-site, so we don’t have to drive anywhere once we arrive.”

“I don’t want to take Natalie,” Don said, as our planning progressed. “If we take her, it won’t be a vacation. You know how hard it is to take her anywhere, even the two hours to Mom and Dad’s.”

Restaurants. School carnivals. Football games. Church. The grocery store. He’s right.

So, it’s just the two of us, Don and I, in Florida. Yesterday, we rented bikes and rode for hours, all over Sanibel Island. We stopped for a mid-afternoon drink at Doc’s Rum Bar. We walked the beach at dusk, seashell searching.

“Aaron would go nuts if he saw these sting rays!” I said, wading in the surf.

“Nat would play for hours in this sand!” Don said.

“Nat would love the biking.”

“But she’d keep stopping, we’d never get anywhere.”

“Aaron would love all the signs about alligators.”

“But Nat would run right in the water.”

We spent the day auditioning the island for ADHD-kid compatibility.

“This would be great for the kids,” one of us would say, “except for the ‘Nat Factor.’”

The Nat Factor: The propensity to over-stimulate. The ratio of fun time to time spent waiting. The degree of impulse control needed to navigate a setting safely.

Don was right. If Natalie were with us, this wouldn’t be a vacation. But every time I think of my kids, I feel twin tugs of pain in my stomach. I love them. Nat Factor or no Nat Factor, I want my kids with me...next time.

A Vacation from ADHD Med Worries

Hello from sunny Sanibel Island! Don and I are on a four-day getaway. Grandma Helen (brave soul) is home with our kids.

I spent the week leading up to take-off worrying that, for one reason or another, this vacation wouldn’t be a go. Reason Number One: Natalie’s ADHD; specifically, the unsettled state of her ADHD meds.

Natalie recently starting taking Clonidine to help her sleep, and we are right smack in that critical evaluation stage, where I track an untried med’s effect, day and night. After week one, we had permission to increase the dose, but I wasn’t comfortable having Grandma do so when I wasn’t there to watch.

In addition to this nerve-wracking unknown, I’m still experimenting with whether or not Nat needs an evening dose of short acting Ritalin. I feel like I’m the only person in-tune enough with Nat’s history and present situation to guide these changes; to make med decisions day to day.

How could I leave?

I would have had a better handle on how the Clonindine is working, and whether or not Nat needs that happy-hour Ritalin cocktail, but, the night we started the Clonidine, Nat went to bed feeling sick.

Sure enough, she woke up at 1 a.m., burning up, and was home sick from school for two days. That ADHD-fever effect, which I wrote about just a few weeks ago, added an extra variable to our Clonidine trial.

Nat returned to school midweek. The bug hit me Friday night. Drat.

Don was at a basketball tournament with Aaron. I stretched out on the couch and moaned while Natalie played with jewelry-making beads at the kitchen table. I rolled off the couch as infrequently as possible: to lift Nat down from the kitchen counter when she climbed up to rummage in the stuff on top of the fridge--an assortment of things, like permanent markers, that are there specifically so they are out of her reach--and to intervene when she asked if she could color these cool pictures of our house, and I realized that the only pictures of our house she could mean were in the file that holds our mortgage information.

At one point in the evening, I heaved myself off the couch to do a quick visual check of Natalie in the kitchen.

“I mixed all my beads together,” Nat said. Her cousins gave her a starter-set of jewelry-making supplies for Christmas, along with thousands of tiny beads in various shapes and colors, and small plastic see-through vials in which to keep them sorted. Nat had dumped every vial into a plastic tray and was stirring them all together.

“Okay,” I replied, emotionless, and headed back to the couch.

“’Okay’?” Nat said. “That’s all?”

I guess there’s a feelings-flattening fever-effect for moms of kids with ADHD, too!

Anyway, Grandma showed up, we packed up and left, and I’m here in Florida. My cold is getting better by the day, and by all reports, all is fine on the home front.

Time to hit the beach! Signing off for now from Sanibel.

Artificial Colors are a Mess for ADHD Kids

I learned the hard way that ADHD and artificial coloring in foods are not a good mix.

Yesterday, I wrote about ADDitude’s new free printable ADHD diet guide. One of the things it suggests is reducing artificial colors in our children's diets. I found out--the hard way--that there's more than one reason ADHD and artificial colors don't mix.

When Natalie came home from a respite weekend with Aunt Ann a couple of weeks ago, she brought some Trix yogurt home, too. I usually don't buy brands like Trix that are marketed to kids, because they contain extra sugar. But, like a good Grandma, Aunt Ann likes to spoil Natalie (then send her home!), so she provides lots of yummy treats.

A few nights later, Natalie and I had just arrived home for the evening, and were mired in that difficult transition from daycare to home that's always compounded by Natalie being hungry. I'd put a Trix yogurt on the table in front of her before she'd even removed her winter coat, in an attempt to combat hunger-fueled behavior problems long enough to get supper on the table.

The phone rang. It was Harry's mom, Victoria, calling to arrange a play date--which I would have gladly done, if Nat would have let me talk to her. Instead, thinking I was saying no to time with Harry, Nat flew into a fit. I couldn't hear Victoria over Natalie's screams, so I hurried out of the room. I walked back in moments later to find that Nat had knocked her Trix yogurt over, and was fingerpainting the day-glo pink and blue cold creamy mess all over the kitchen table. When I yelled at her to stop, she picked up the container and threw it. It bounced off the kitchen wall, splattering pink and blue everywhere.

Sure, it's a good idea to keep unnecessary chemicals out of our children's bodies and brains. But my once-white curtains and spotted walls are all the proof I need that--nutrition aside--ADHD and artificial coloring in foods are not a good mix.

A New ADHD Diet Guide

ADDitude's ADHD diet guide is on our fridge as a reminder that diet matters.

I recently downloaded and printed ADDitude's new free printable: 5 Ways to Cook Up an ADHD-Friendly Diet. Thanks, ADDitude! It was just the tool I needed to try and bring my husband, Don, on board with some ADHD diet recommendations for our daughter, Natalie.

Natalie's ADHD behavior is clearly reactive to her level of hunger. When Natalie is busy, the last thing she wants to do is to stop and eat, but a kicking and screaming fit is nearly guaranteed when intense hunger hits. More than once I've spooned ice cream in the poor girl's mouth as a flailing fit is in progress, desperate to get her blood sugar level to rise as quickly as possible.

It seems I'm always reminding Don that Natalie needs a snack. "She's been eating all night!" he always says.

"But she hasn't had any protein!" I respond, sounding like a broken record. Now, I can point to ADDitude's #1 ADHD diet tip: Beef up protein levels!

I've also been working on ADDitude's tip #2: Limit foods high in chemicals. I try hard to keep foods (if you can call them that!) containing artificial sweeteners out of the fridge, freezer, and pantry, but Don seems to be drawn to them. I buy the all-natural frozen fruit bars; he buys the sugar-free, artificially sweetened variety. I buy no-sugar-added applesauce; he buys the artificially sweetened variety. To me, it's more important to eliminate artificial sweeteners than to reduce sugar. My approach when Natalie eats sugary foods is to balance the sugar's effect with protein.

ADDitude's ADHD diet guide is on our fridge as a reminder, to Don and I both, that diet matters.

Tomorrow, I'll share a funny--in the "you might as well laugh as cry" kind of funny--story about my next challenge: cutting back on artificial color in Natalie's diet.

ADHD-Approved Classroom Furniture

Can you imagine how much better school life would be for our special needs children if more teachers were open to non-traditional ideas?

A big thank you to Jeff for highlighting this New York Times article in his blog, Jeff's ADD Mind: .

The article focuses on fidget-friendly classroom furniture developed by Abby Brown, a Minnesota sixth-grade teacher. Ms. Brown's classroom boasts stand up work stations with--get this!--swinging foot rests, and adjustable height, optional-use stools. Students can sit or stand, shift their weight from one foot to the other, or sit and swing their legs, all in the name of better learning. Best of all, using this furniture isn’t a special accommodation for kids with ADHD. It's being used by the whole class. In fact, ADHD, with its known "fidget-to-focus-factor," wasn't even mentioned in the article.

Can you imagine how much better school life would be for our special needs children if more teachers thought as creatively and were as open to non-traditional ideas as Ms. Brown? I'd love to see Natalie's school try out this innovation, but I can think of a million reasons why they wouldn't (money, space, resistance to change among them). Ms. Brown, wouldn't you like to move south, to, say...Iowa? (And bring your classroom furniture with you?)

Better yet, let's send Ms. Brown to Washington to work with Obama's education team! Let's give her a million dollars; a free trip to Hawaii; the Nobel Prize! Let's crown her prom queen! Let's start a revolution! (In our spare time.)

Well, I can at least forward a link to the Times article to a few teachers and school administrators. Will you do the same?