Since the first of our five children started attending grade school back in 2003, we’ve been a family committed to Catholic education. Because our faith is central to how we live our life, the idea that our kids could combine their academic growth with spiritual growth always appealed to us.

Despite living in an affluent area in San Diego that has great public schools, we felt strongly that our kids needed the Catholic school experience and that it would help us raise our children surrounded by the faith. We like the fact our kids could say “Merry Christmas” at school and attend Mass with their classmates each week. It’s always been that way, and despite the significant costs and sacrifices we had to make as a family, we never once thought twice about it.

But next week, my almost-12 year old son will make the move from five years of Catholic school to a large, public middle school and we’re feeling good about it.

It’s not that our idea of support of Catholic education has waned. We still believe in it and I pay a pretty penny for my oldest child to attend Catholic high school at this very moment. But at a time when education is getting more competitive at an earlier age, I’m afraid many Catholic schools are falling behind. While they remain strong in the faith, many are losing academic excellence and kids are not being challenged enough. That’s exactly what happened to my son.

When we moved to the Kansas City area from San Diego, we chose a Catholic school in the general vicinity of where we wanted to live. The school, it’s staff and

teachers were welcoming and we felt great about our kids attending. Even through the first year, things went great. My 8th grader was welcomed with open arms and what could have been a difficult year for a pre-teen ended up being an amazing school year where deep friendships were forged. Gone were many of the materialistic focus we saw in Catholic schools on the west coast and kids seemed to be at the right speed here versus in San Diego.

When my son moved into 5th grade, we noticed all of the other kids had homework but my son never did. Assuming the worst, we asked the teachers if he had not been turning in assignments. No, they said, he had just finished them during study time and he was indeed keeping up his A-average. No worries they said.

At first, that was a relief. But as the year went on, and he complained of doing math he had reviewed a few years before (a credit to the academics of the more secular-driven Catholic school he attended in California), we became alarmed. Numerous studies and data shows that if pre-adolescent boys aren’t challenged in school, they soon can become lost, uninterested, and fall behind. We wanted our son to be challenged and to continue to love learning.

With numerous teacher changes, and a lack of focus on math and science, we decided it was time to move him. It required 6 months of deliberation and discussion for us to get there but, ultimately, we needed to do what was best for our son academically. He is at a crucial point in his education – the point he’s being readied for the barrage that is high school. Even though it hurt us to think we had to abandon Catholic education for three years, we had no other choice for our son.

If you look at the history of Catholic education, it hasn’t been until recent years the schools have been considered elite private institutions. In fact, the genesis of Catholic schools was born from the inability (at the time) for public schools to provide a quality education for immigrant and poor Catholics pouring into American cities. That, and the fact Catholics have been discriminated against since first coming to America, the idea made perfect sense. The religious aspect of parochial schools was also appealing to a population that was closer to its faith then.

Today, Catholic schools are becoming victims of a lack of funding, a lack of Catholic identity and a sort of economic barrier for many to take part. Couple that with areas with great public school districts, and these very important institutions are struggling to keep their enrollments up. A note: this does not mean there aren’t great, faithful, and academically stellar Catholic schools – there are many. But the financial condition of many (due to low enrollment, low tithing in parishes, and even the legal problems associated with the abuse scandal) is putting the future of Catholic education in danger in America.

We’re sorry to have had to move our 6th grader away. At the same time, we’re excited to see our son benefit from the advanced programs in engineering, computer sciences and even music our local school district provides. We think he’ll be challenged and that will make him a better student. He’ll continue his religious education at our local parish during off hours. He won’t lose his foundation in the faith.

We’re also open to our three youngest boys (not of school age yet) attending Catholic schools. We only hope, if we do, we’re not faced with the same dilemma a few years down the road.

This post, however, is not the same, but rather, talks about how the iPad can make education fun for kids. While my kids love school, the iPad (or any tablet for that matter), can supplement the education they are getting in school.

Here’s how:

At the very basic level, kids, as young as 2 or so, have an eagerness to learn their ABCs. The ABC Animals app helps you do that.

After kids start to learn their alphabet, they want to start spelling. It’s part of their curiosity scale. They are like sponges and want to continue to learn and after ABCs, spelling is next in line. The Word Magic app can help kids with their spelling curiosity.

Kids are also visual and audio learners. The interactivity of some iPad apps really help kids soak in the knowledge. The Spell and Listen Cards app is a cool way for kids to become the sponge.

Want to teach your kids about the history of the US. Check out the Manual for the United States of America. Believe me, you’ll learn a couple of things too because you were probably falling asleep in history class.

How about Astronomy? Pocket Universe: Virtual Sky Astronomy is pretty bad ass.

Another great way to learn, though the industry is dwindling, is newspapers. Keeping them up to date with world events is a great educational experience. Newspapers is good app to check out.

What about tunes? You gotta teach your kids about music. The Preschool Music app is fantastic. You’ll find yourself playing this one for sure.

There’s a slew of other apps I’d add to this list. What would you add?

Michael Keaton in Mr. Mom

Two to three times a month I do school drop off. I feel like Mr. Mom when they said to Michael Keaton, “You’re doing it wrong! It’s the South to drop off MORON!!!”

I don’t know where to stand. Not sure of the protocol. I am also one of the few dads there. We are the proverbial fish out of water.

The scene is best described as controlled mayhem. Kids are screaming, fighting, dancing, yapping, etc.

It makes me long for the office. Then again, it doesn’t because these are the days I’ll miss when my girls are teenagers and I just drop her off. She’ll be too cool to hang with dad. She’ll want to kibitz with her friends. Gossip about boys (brutal).

I’m not looking forward to those days at all. How do you moms do it everyday?

God bless ya.

My youngest and oldest walk to the front door for the first day of school. My youngest missed her sister big time.

Last year at this time, my oldest daughter was headed to Kindergarten. It was a scary thing. Here she was, an innocent, shy, caring girl that was going to be throw in the wolf den that is the public school system. I only call it the wolf den because it’s the unknown. You’re dealing with kids from all types of backgrounds, demeanors, education level, mannerisms, etc. Public schools are one big ass bowl of jambalaya.

My wife and I went through all the emotions of being a first time “big school” parent (pre-school was a sort of a cake-walk compared to a school where she was on the bottom of the food chain — her school is k-8).

This year, the transition from Kindergarten to First Grade was a piece of cake. My daughter has a good chunk of her friends from last year in her class this year. Additionally, some friends that aren’t in her class, are in classes right next door. So basically, she’s with her crew and my wife and I will see the same moms and dads as we did last year. There’s a weird comfort in that, which I think has something to do with stability and familiarity.

I realize that with each opening of school, it’ll get easier and harder at the same time. Easier in the fact that we’ve been there before, done that. Harder in the fact that she’s getting older and she will no longer be the little girl we brought home from the hospital as young parents.

They say that it’ll be easier with our second daughter, but something tells me it’ll be harder. She’s our baby and we, of course, would like to keep her that way. But, time keeps rolling and there’s nothing we can do about it but hold on to the hand rail and enjoy the ride.

How did your first day of school go with your kids?

Don Martelli is just a dad, moonlighting as a PR exec, photographer and civilian journalist. He’s the executive editor for Technorati, a co-founder of Every Other Thursday and is a contributing writer for Shamable and the PR Finish Line. Connect with him at www.donmartelli.com or @bigguyd via Twitter.

Not sure about you, but when I was growing up, my mother was the key-driver behind all the school stuff. I mean, yea, my father did homework with me from time to time, but whenever shit when down at school, mom was always there to deal with it in one way or another.

With two kids heading to school this fall — one in first grade and the other in pre-school — my educational experience got me thinking about how important it is for dads to be involved in their kids school work and experience.

Since this is a dads blog, I’m focusing on the dads, but you get my drift. Parents need to be involved, period.

The reason why it’s important for dads to be involved in the educational experience for of their kids because it is something they will be dealing with for 16+ years (not to mention having to pay for it when they go to a college prep school and/or college).

Dads (and moms) have to be involved in the schooling of their kids because it provides structure. Be sure to review their homework consistently. Be sure to set aside time from your busy work schedule to be there during the parent/teacher events. Be sure to show up for the little shows and competitions at school.

Yea, I know this is all basic stuff but believe me, us dads get rapped up in the day to day things. Sometimes we need to stop and think about how our schedules can impact the entire family — like rescheduling a 5pm conference call for the next morning so you don’t miss dinner at home where you’ll ask about your kids’ day at school, inquire about how they did on a test, etc.

Dads just can’t be on the sideline reviewing the report card every quarter. We need to be just as involved as the moms and make an effort to do so. After all, it’s their future. Don’t you want a role in making it a positive one?

Don Martelli is just a dad, moonlighting as a PR exec, photographer and civilian journalist. He’s the executive editor for Technorati, a co-founder of Every Other Thursday and is a contributing writer for Shamable and the PR Finish Line. Connect with him at www.donmartelli.com or @bigguyd via Twitter.

In waiting I am able to be still in ways I am not normally still, and it allows me time and patience enough to stare at you in mild, loving appreciation, this face so like the face of your mother stamped on the enormous long head of your father and topped by a handsome head of unruly fair hair. Your eyes, your mother’s sleek eyes, are starlight blue. The mouth is hers, the smile is mine. As I wait, it seems you’re in no hurry to respond to what I’ve said; you have a child’s indifference to any sense of conversational obligation. You’re happy only to belong, and to let the obvious speak for itself. “Is that good fruit smoothie?” Blue eyed smile. “Did you see Pop-Pop today?” Something about the question amuses you.

I wonder what you’re thinking. Your mind must be crowded with immediate ideas, pondering the things you love and which of them you’ll do next. You do talk, of course. You often preface sentences with the phrase, “What about…?” This means you want to investigate that thing. “What about… Number Factory?” This means you want to watch a video of that name. “What about… pot lids?” This means you want me to draw pot lids on your magnetic drawing board. You’ve also learned to say, “I want” and “I need help,” though we have to remind you to say the latter; more often, you simply start going after what you want and only when you can’t get it confess, “I need help.” Your other well known words are “I not!” This actually means “I won’t” or “I do not want to.” Put your shoes on. “I not put my shoes on!”

We say the things that are comfortable to us, the things we have rehearsed and the things that come natural to us. Even adults do this. Like a child a year younger than you, you tend to repeat the same basic phrases, the same jokes, the same quotes from TV shows and well worn indications of need. In between, you smile, a lot, you’re a very happy child. You fall naturally into place wherever we go, take your place beside your brother, or in my arms, or off to the side, or far ahead, or in your mother’s lap, doing your own thing. You are, I am grateful to note, very cuddly, and this is something I cherish in part because your brother, a big first grader now, is pulling away, no longer cool with being kissed and held by his dad, only occasionally by his mom.

Is it ironic that your father is a communications professional and spends his days coordinating conversation and spreading messages? I cannot make you talk, but often I am good at eliciting some speech from you. The way your face lights up when you see me tells me I “get” you. Part of it is in knowing your rhythms, in reading your cues, a kind of mind reading, like we did when you and your brother were babies. A fuss at 9:00 A.M. most likely means hunger. Excessive climbing on the couch in late morning means you need to be taken to a park and run. When you sit as if exhausted in mid afternoon that means it’s time for a popsicle, a glass of ice water. These are things you say without words and we try to put speech to them. “Are you hungry?” “Are you tired?” Wait, wait for the answer, even as I reach with my hands for the solution.

I pray for you. I pray for you every day. Our conversation is somewhat like prayer in that I have to do all the talking and listen, read the signs, for the response, wonder what the other party is thinking. With prayer, there is always the deeply buried fear that you are talking to yourself. Like prayer, you talk, you connect, out of love, hope, and desperate need, in recognition of kinship, in the need to be known – in prayer, by the maker; to a child, the made.

You are fascinated by my ability to draw. It is a language that interests you far more than speech. When I bring toys to you and your brother my gift to you is a blank notebook and a fresh set of markers; you fill it furiously with scribbling and then draw over your scribbles. The fact that you can draw, can write, can read many words, hold a pencil better than your brother, but can’t talk very well seems like a piece to a puzzle, but I don’t build much out of it. This summer, you’ll be seeing specialists and going to a special pre-school. Maybe they will recognize significance in this behavior. For now, as we wait, it’s just one more thing we do, one more thing that makes you what you are. A bright face in whose smiles I lose myself, a pair of tiny legs I am always pursuing.

Abby makes a strategic headband adjustment

Abby & I have a great relationship, but she’s definitely a mommy’s girl. Things were different with my 5 year-old Molly. When Molly arrived she immediately took center stage, kicking our dog Brisco to the side and commanding 100% of my focus. Together we experienced many firsts: my first attempt at changing a diaper; the first time my wife Katie headed to work and left me (gasp!) alone with the baby; my many failed attempts to give her breast milk via a bottle when Katie wasn’t around; etc., etc. As she grew into a toddler, she became my little buddy. I’ll never forget the night we spent at home together when Katie was still at the hospital after delivering Abby. Molly & I went swimming and made tacos for dinner, and when I tucked her in that night I just knew that things would never be the same. The next morning we’d head to the hospital to bring her new baby sister home. For 2.5 years she’d been the only little girl in my world, and as of the next day she’d be sharing that space with Abby. Not that this was a bad thing. I just knew it would be different.

Abby has been an extension of her mom from the moment she arrived. I sensed this immediately in the delivery room when I held her for the first time and she started crying. She just naturally gravitates to her mom, often wandering the house asking “Where’s Mommy??”, opting to sit on Katie’s lap during meals (even now!), and requesting that her mom be the one to read her stories and put her to bed at night. I often joke with Katie that perhaps she should chew Abby’s food for her and spit it into her mouth like a mother bird, and frankly I don’t think Abby would mind this! Katie comforts me by saying that Abby constantly asks for me when I’m away from the house. Abby comforts me by saying “I want YOU to put me to bed when Mommy’s at work, Daddy” (gee thanks for choosing me over Brisco, Abby!). But I know the truth, and I also understand that it doesn’t mean she loves me any less.

A slight underestimation on my age, but otherwise she did OK

Several weeks ago Katie got held up with a meeting and asked if I would go pick up Abby on relatively short notice. When I walked through the classroom door, her big smile quickly faded to a frown: “Where’s Mommy? I wanted Mommy to pick me up!”. That was the memory I carried with me as I walked back into school yesterday. Would this be another case where she was upset that the “wrong” parent had arrived? I cautiously knocked on the door and walked in, hoping for the best.

The class was assembled in a circle playing a game where each child was asked to erase a different object on a whiteboard. I immediately noticed Abby on the outer edge of the circle, looking in a different direction. One of her teachers said “look who’s here Abby!” and she turned. The moment of truth! She made eye contact with me and her face lit up: “Daddddyyy!!!”. She immediately ran over to give me a hug and insisted on sitting in my lap for the remainder of the session. From there I got to experience a couple other rituals of her day:

• The lineup to go wash hands before snack- this was cool because I learned a couple new pirate songs.
• Snacktime! In a slightly awkward situation, Abby decided she’d rather sit between two of her friends. This left me sitting at the end of the table between 2 little girls, in a chair that was roughly 6 inches high. I reverted to cracking jokes and won them over with the silly things I said to the animal crackers before I ate them (“It’s judgment day, Mr. Hippopotamus!”). Now I know how Billy Madison felt.
• Another lineup, this time for outdoor playtime! Abby paraded me around like a prop and had me play all her favorite roles in a variety of princess games (“mean witch” is her personal favorite). One of her classmates tried to steal me away a couple times once she recognized my incredible versatility as an actor, but Abby quickly came to my rescue.

As we walked to the car together after school, I reflected on all the qualities I love about my Abby: her fierce independence; her willingness to walk up and introduce herself to anyone with a loud “what’s your name??”; her preference to be wearing dresses and princess clothing at all times; her ability to get away with saying just about anything due to her cute little way of delivering the message. We’re accustomed to being with our kids at home, but seeing them interact in school, sports, and other activities provides a whole new perspective on how quickly they’re growing up. My time with Abby that morning confirmed that I do play a special role in her life, even if her mommy tends to be the first choice.

Since I was savoring my own time in Abby’s spotlight, I decided to propose that we continue the special morning together. “Abby”, I said as I strapped her into the car seat, “I was thinking we could go to Subway or McDonald’s for an early lunch, just the two of us. What do you say?!” She gazed back at me with those innocent blue eyes and responded without missing a beat: “I want to go home and see Mommy.”

Did I mention she can get away with saying just about anything?

Now, my daughter is in kindergarten so we are blowing threw books like they are toilet paper in the mens room. However, she’s not just the most proficient writer just yet so that portion of the project takes a little longer than expected, but that’s ok.

Here’s the kicker.The more books the students read, the closer they get to winning the grand prize — being able to throw a pie in the principal’s face.

At this young of an age, kids don’t need motivation to read because they are so naturally curious, but being the ONLY kid in school to be able to diss the principal is pretty awesome.

So hey, if my daughter wants to win, that’s fine with me. We’ll read until the cows come home. And if she doesn’t win, it doesn’t matter. She wins and I win for reading to her. She learns. I parent. It’s a win win.

Kudo’s to the school for bringing fun back to educating.

To that end, my kids have attended Catholic grade school and junior high. The mixing of intellectual and spiritual growth has been important to us as parents and I have no regrets about the additional cost and the sacrifices we must make to do so.

As we get closer to my daughter entering high school, I am rethinking my position on Catholic high school.

A smart (brag: my girl is on the Honor Roll!), confident and intelligent pre-adolescent, our plan has always been to send her to the one and only all-girls Catholic high school in San Diego. We have several friends who went there as girls and speaking nothing but good things about it. It’s a long haul (over 26 miles one way) but we’re prepared to do that as we believe strongly in Catholic education.

But when I started to hear some things about not only that school, but other Catholic high schools in my area, I started to think twice. When the Catholic schools aren’t providing a more Catholic environment, is it worth the cost?

The American public education system, once the envy of the developed world, has lost some of its luster but still is ahead of most other industrialized nations. Our kids get good educations (OK, in most neighborhoods) and grow up learning from passionate and engaged teachers. But due to more cultural sensitivity, and some Supreme Court rulings, faith – at least some – are not part of the equation.

I’ve struggled with that. And, frankly, it’s one of the reasons I have been so resistant to send my kids to public school. Some Catholic school parents fear public schools. I am not one of them.

After hearing what I’ve heard about many of our Catholic high schools, I am left wondering if its worth the money. My kids have a strong faith foundation. Why spend $10,000 a year to send them to a “Catholic” school when they’re not doing any more than reading some books and having casual discussions about Catholicism?

For example, in our neck of the woods, the local public high school has a strong and active pro-life club. It also has and LGBT group, SADD, etc. All of the groups  you’d expect. The local Catholic high school hasn’t allowed a pro-life group. That’s odd to me and underscores my new philosophy that your faith is your faith and it can be compatible and nurtured in the public school enviornment.

I still do believe in Catholic schools. This parent just wants them to be truly Catholic or I’ll take my money and save it for college. If not, then why are they there? With a massive public school system, flush with resources, why pay extra if you’re not getting better academics or faith foundation?

Follow Scott on Twitter @sdgully or email him at scott@everyotherthursday.com. His personal blog, where he writes about public relations and social media, is www.scottgulbransen.com. Scott also contributes the the Shamable Blog and is known as the Gluten Free Father and reviews GF food.

The school district said, “‘It’s hard to sit and read the dictionary, but we’ll be looking to find other things of a graphic nature.” Are you fucking kidding me? They are going to scan the dictionary looking for curse words and what they deem inappropriate? Are they going to ban the encyclopedia too? This just stinks of a snap decision based off the opinions and heated whining of one idiot parent who wants their kid to live in a freaking bubble. If you want your kid to live in a bubble, then put them in a goddamn bubble. Don’t piss and moan until you get your communist agenda to go your way.

This is not good for kids. I’m not saying kids should know what oral sex means or even is, but they should have the absolute right to look shit up in the fucking dictionary! We can’t protect our children from all the naughty things in the world, have you met the internet? One can only wonder what led that parent to look for the definition of oral sex and then decided to wage a campaign against the dictionary. I’m guessing the conversation in that house went like this.

Father: “Honey, think we can poke a hole in the sheet tonight and have intercourse.”
Mother: “We just did.”
Father: “That was last summer.”
Mother: “Oh, didn’t realize.”
Father: “Well, there must be something else we can do. What’s that thing you do when you put the man’s penis in your mouth?”
Mother: “What? That’s not a real thing. You are making that up. It sounds disgusting.”
Father: “No, really. It’s real. I bet it’s in the dictionary. Hold on.” Gets the dictionary. “See, right there – oral sex.”
Child: (standing in doorway) “What’s oral sex?”
Father: “….”
Mother: “….”
Child: “Is it oral stimulation of the genitals? Because that’s what it implies.”
Father: “Where did you learn that?”
Child: “The dictionary, in school. Duh. You have it in your hand.”
Father: “Aaah! Dirty! Dirty! Damn schools and their learning materials! I will have the dictionary banned!”
Mother: “This conversation has gotten me hot. You can give me a back rub.”
Father: “Score!”
Child: “Then oral sex?”
Father/Mother: “Go to bed!”

Mind you, the phrases of cunnilingus and fellatio have been in the dictionary for a long time. Why the outrage now? Especially when you consider that learning about oral sex at a young age might lead to a drop in teen pregnancy. There are tons of phrases in the dictionary that can be deemed inappropriate, but that’s not the point is it? The point is there are still tons of parents out there that are simply afraid to be honest with their children. There are schools that give in to this lack of honesty by pandering to weak parents. Until this changes, there will be a small handful of Californian children that won’t know what oral sex is until they are getting it behind the bleachers in high school, at which point they won’t give a shit what it’s called.