The Mother-Daughter Dance. By
Cathy Guisewite. Andrews McMeel. $9.99.
Fowl Language: Welcome to
Parenting. By Brian Gordon. Andrews McMeel. $14.99.
Silly Wonderful You. By
Sherri Duskey Rinker. Illustrated by Patrick McDonnell.
Balzer+Bray/HarperCollins. $17.99.
You Made Me a Mother. By
Laurenne Sala. Illustrated by Robin Preiss Glasser. Harper. $15.99.
All We Know. By Linda Ashman.
Illustrated by Jane Dyer. Harper. $17.99.
Pretty much every parent has
likely heard some variation on the question, “If there’s a Mother’s Day and a
Father’s Day, why isn’t there a children’s day?” And pretty much each mother or
father has probably answered something like, “Every day is children’s day.” In that spirit, every spring
inevitably brings forth a new crop of wry, amusing, “awwww” books to celebrate
family days of all sorts. And who knows the mother-and-daughter dynamic better
than Cathy Guisewite, whose long-running Cathy
comic strip still has plenty to say to adult children and parents of adult
children? The small-size hardcover gift book, The Mother-Daughter Dance, neatly encapsulates a lot of what is
involved in having, or trying to have, a grown-up relationship between two
grown-ups who just happen to be intimately genetically related. “Sometimes moms
just need to give and daughters just need to let them,” says one left-hand page,
while the opposite right-hand one shows adult Cathy and her mom at the
breakfast table as her mom says, “I will eat the stale, charred fragments of
the burned crust so you, my beautiful baby, can have the perfect piece!!” Another
left-hand page says, “With every passing year, a mother and daughter have more
common ground and less chance they’ll be standing on any of it together.” And
the right-hand page has mom remarking, “Age spots! Welcome to the club! I
remember the first time I saw…” as
Cathy runs from the room, shrieking her trademark “AAACK!” Yet another left-hand page says, “It’s so
easy to give to a mother. So hard to get her to keep anything.” And on the
right, Cathy’s mom has just unwrapped a package containing a brand-new handbag,
which she is now holding out to Cathy as she says, “This is too beautiful for
me! I want you to have it!” Well,
one thing The Mother-Daughter Dance
shows that daughters can give and
mothers will keep is love. In fact,
mothers can give it back and still keep it all.
This does not, however, mean
that being a parent is anything close to a sweetness-and-light experience. At
least not all the time. Brian Gordon’s Web cartoon, Fowl Language, is now available in book form, and if it scarcely
has the warmth and sense of underlying delight that Cathy offers, it has other things that will make parents sit up and
take notice. Including, yes, foul
language. The title is of course a pun – the parents here are ducks, father
Dick and mother Jackie, and they have two ducklings, and the cartoons, most of
them single-panel, offer Gordon’s take on parenting experiences to which book
readers and Web-site visitors alike will, for better or worse, relate. One
panel shows an extremely bizarrely dressed duckling and is captioned “‘What
would a crazy, homeless princess wear?’ (What my 3-year-old asks herself every
time she gets dressed.)” Another shows a super-enthusiastic duckling jumping on
exhausted daddy duck’s stomach, with the caption, “FACT: Small children
actually get more hyper when they’re overtired. This phenomenon is called
‘sucks to be you.’” Still another splits the single panel into two, the first
called “Daycare Drop Off” with the child saying, “No!!! Don’t make me go!!” and
the second called “Daycare Pick Up” with the child saying, “No!!! Don’t Make Me
Leave!!” And then there is “ME-TIME,” another split-in-two panel, with a
smiling daddy duck at the left, drink and popcorn and TV remote at the ready,
saying “Finally! Kids are asleep. Chores are done. From now until bedtime I can
do whatever I want!” – and, on the right side, the same scene “Moments Later,”
with the parent sound asleep, drink spilled, TV ignored…you get the idea. The
language in Fowl Language is stronger
than it really needs to be for the scenes, but that is probably because this is
the Internet age and what used to seem like strong verbiage now seems pretty
doggone (or duck-gone) mild. The actual scenes are ones that parents in any age
(and of any age) will recognize, and
parents will find plenty of things to chuckle at as long as they keep the book
out of reach of their children.
Much better books to share
with kids are ones featuring some of today’s top illustrators and cartoonists,
but clearly designed for parent-child interaction. Mutts creator Patrick McDonnell, an expert at heartwarming art and
sentiments, lends his special brand of cuteness to Sherri Duskey Rinker’s Silly Wonderful You, a celebration of
messes and crashes and grumpiness and stinkiness and all the other things that
make a house with a small child a home. “Since
there was you,” Rinker writes, “my days start oh-so-early, with bright-eyed
alarm clocks,” and McDonnell obligingly calls up a super-early-morning scene
featuring a mom with one eye open as a little girl with both eyes wide open peeks
over the edge of the bed. “Since there was you,” Rinker continues, “I’m always
surprised at how much fun you are,
and how GINORMOUSLY I love you.” And
McDonnell offers the little girl wearing butterfly wings and her mom happily
breaking away from kitchen chores so the two can go running outdoors and mom
can lift her daughter WAY UP in the air.
Yes, mom gets tired, even exhausted, after a full day of delight with
her little girl – Rinker says so and McDonnell adeptly shows it – but the whole
point here, even when worn-out mom falls asleep in a chair and
can’t-get-to-sleep daughter comes looking for her, is that “dreams really do
come true” as the two cuddle together and drift off to rest. All right, every
parent knows life is not really this heartwarming, but where is the harm in
pretending, at least for a while, and especially when reading a book with a
child, that all the irritations and hassles really are worth it? They are, you
know – or can be.
The message is much the same
in Laurenne Sala’s You Made Me a Mother,
which benefits enormously from the recognizably Fancy Nancy-like illustrations of Robin Preiss Glasser. This is all
about “Love. Big fat love.” The worries of a mother-to-be before baby is born,
and the life transformation afterwards. The realization “that I would spend my
life doing things to make you happy. And that would make me happy.” Here too
there is acknowledgment that not everything is perfect: “Sure, there are times
I still get nervous” shows mom sitting on her child’s bed as the child screams
from – pain? nightmare? something else? “But then you smile,” writes Sala, “and
I remember that everything is magic.” And then, with the few words “and love
would rain down all over you,” there is a perfect two-page illustration showing
the little girl, looking almost exactly
like Fancy Nancy, romping in the rain (in three different poses) while
umbrella-carrying mom looks back in delight and, on the next page, tosses the
umbrella aside for no reason more complicated than joy. A purely celebratory
story that will likely bring tears to the eyes of moms and dads alike, You Made Me a Mother makes a perfectly
wonderful read-aloud and look-at-it-together book for just about anytime.
All We Know is a better book for kids just learning to read, who
want to read to mom rather than have
her read to them. Although intended, like Rinker’s and Sala’s books, for ages
4-8, Linda Ashman’s offers words in much bigger, easy-to-read type and presents
its story in a pleasant poetic cadence – with Jane Dyer’s warmly atmospheric
illustrations using more close-ups than do those of McDonnell and Glasser, lending
this book a high level of intimacy. The theme here is the same as in You Made Me a Mother, but the
perspective is different, with the mother narrating a story about all the
things that just happen naturally in the world before she flashes back to the
time just before her child was born and how she “just knew” how much love there
would be between them. The mundane scenes move from indoors to outdoors: “A pup
knows how to wag. A kitten, how to play./ Swallows fly to winter homes and
never lose their way.” And the mother-child relationship is cast as part of a
grand natural one: “The stars know how to shine. The earth knows how to turn./
The sun knows when to wake each day – it didn’t need to learn.” By the end of
this easy-to-read, easy-to-enjoy book, which shows the mom reading a book to
her child as a cat and dog look on with near-human pleasure, the message is
abundantly clear: love is as natural a thing as can be, and there is plenty of
it in the household shown in All We Know
and, by extension, in the household of the family that is reading Ashman’s
book.
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