MARK MY WORD: DAD FINDS MORNING RUSH A TOUGH TASK FOR MR. MOM

It isn't easy being Mr. Mom-in-the-morning.

It's particularly tough now that Becca is in kindergarten and has to get to school on time.

With Joni away on a business trip last Friday, I had to get the kids up and dressed, and make Becca's lunch.

Normally, Joni does all that, and gets herself dressed too in the same amount of time it takes me to wake up, take a shower, shave and get dressed.

Joni doesn't think this morning division of labor is the least bit fair.

Her thoughts are echoed by friends who are moms.

All I can say is that it takes us guys longer to wake up. We're not good at making early-morning decisions such as what clothes the kids should wear.

I do well with lacing their shoes and occasionally finding the right pair of socks.

I prefer to let Joni pick out the clothes.

All dads are wise to let the moms choose the kids' clothes because we are color challenged.

Guys only know the basic colors. Stuff like periwinkle is way beyond our understanding. Why can't they just call it blue?

My two girls have tons of clothes, which makes the clothing choices even more difficult.

Fortunately, Bailey -- who is approaching 2 years of age -- typically will wear the first thing you pick out, or at least the second. She often is dressed before Becca gets out of bed.

Becca, on the other hand, is more20discriminating. She prefers to say no to a whole bunch of outfits before she settles on the lucky clothes of the day.

But getting the kids dressed wasn't my biggest chore. I had to make Becca's lunch.

I had to make her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. But Becca's picky about her sandwiches. I had to thoroughly mix the grape jelly and peanut butter until it resembled a buttery spread.

Then I had to spread it on the bread, and remove the crust from the bread. After that, I had to cut it into four squares.

Before leaving on her business trip, Joni advised me that she sometimes cuts the sandwich into triangles.

Thankfully, she doesn't cut them into circles.

Even so, my squares didn't look as good as Joni's. But I placed them in the lunch bag anyway and hoped Becca wouldn't notice the imperfections.

I hauled the lunch bag and her backpack into the van, as I shepherded the kids out the door to the chant of "We're going to be late, we're going to be late."

By now, the kids are used to my lament. I'm sure they ask themselves, "Why is dad in such a panic all the time?"

I can't answer that. I'm too busy trying to herd everyone into the van.

Bailey has taken to climbing into the van herself.

Once inside, she prefers to climb over the seats and generally scamper away from the outstretched arms of mom and dad.

After capturing Bailey, I placed her in her car seat and quickly strapped her in before she could jump out.

By this time, I was almost out of breath from having rushed around doing those mommy chores.

All set, I launched the van on its mad-morning dash to the elementary school.

I left Becca off at the curb. She's a big girl and doesn't like being walked to class anymore.

I said goodbye from the front seat while at the same time I kept a watchful eye on the assorted debris of toys, papers and petrified food to make sure none of it fell out of the van and landed on the assistant principal's feet.

Nothing fell out, including Bailey, much to my relief.

A few minutes later, I had maneuvered the van across town to the day-care center, where I convinced Bailey to leave the van for the toys inside.

After dropping off Bailey, I breathed a sigh of relief. Actually, I was just trying to catch my breath.

You can get winded doing this mom stuff.

As for the sandwiches, it's tough to be square.

~Mark Bliss is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.